You're gonna die clown!

So, I've been a sports fan for as long as I can remember, paying attention to scores, games, what have you, for no real purpose that I can explain to a rationally thinking person.  My biggest "vice" is the Philadelphia Eagles, who continue to be the bane of my existence in every way.  They say that art imitates life(pretty sure that's the quote, call it 80% sure) and in that vain, I have taken that idea to the most extreme of extremes. 

For whatever reason I tend to notice similarities between my life and the Eagles on a regular basis.  Let's start with the basics:

The Eagles have never won the Super Bowl...they always come up short and are usually just good enought to get my hopes up every single year.  If I'm being pessimistic about my life, which is always good fun, I believe that the Eagles futility somehow reflects onto me as a person and creates this totally irrational feeling that no matter what I do, I will never achieve ultimate success.

Now that in and of itself is completely stupid and anyone reading this probably thinks I'm either an idiot or a lunatic or both, and you're probably half right with that assessment.  But recently it's actually become a fun game for me to distract me from reality.  Truth is, my reality is I'm a broke single college grad living with my parents.  Not exactly the definition of success in any way shape or form.  But I'm hardly mopey about it, well sometimes but I am human(I think), so when shit gets real I do get down from time to time.  But that reality does not bum me out for long because living life is a distraction in many ways.  Is it unrealistic to believe that the success of a bunch of highly paid athletes performing poorly somehow correlates to myself being unsuccessful in the dating world? Of course it is!  But what fun would it be to just talk about how all my problems are a direct result of my own personal actions? None at all I say. 

So what if I believe the consummation and subsequent end of my longest relationship was a mirror image of the Donovan Mcnabb era in Philadelphia?  It's not supposed to make sense to you, it's supposed to make you laugh.  And that people, is what nearly everything I do is about.  So I submit to you the reader to please have fun with life, distract yourself from our shitty government problems, and maybe consider relating your life to something totally ridiculous, it works for me.

Video of the day

Money doesn't buy happiness, it is happiness.

Do people listen to themselves when they talk ever? We're all guilty at some point or another of completely disregarding the sad fact that people don't give a shit about what we're talking about.  For me it's mostly when I talk about fantasy sports, a subject that is literally not even interesting to fellow players.  I call us "players" because that is really the only vain in which such a classification would be given.  But why on a persistent basis do people decide to bore other people with the most banal minutia ever conceived? It's almost as if for some people, the idea of a two way conversation is unthinkable.  As a self centered prick myself, even I find it fascinating when people like this actually complain about other people behaving the same way.  I don't know if it is some sort of unconscious defense mechanism that operates on it's own to protect the conscience from realizing just how dull they are as a person, but holy hypocrisy batman! All I'm saying is that if you're going to bore the shit out of me with stories about your aunt's birthday party having the best potato salad you've ever eaten, then be prepared to hear just how many fantasy points Lesean Mccoy got me this week to bring the Rainbow Jizzstains to a record of 6-4.  Stay interesting my friends.