The temperature dipped below seventy degrees today, and all the douchebags with scarves showed up.

this is a douchebag with a scarf.

I’m going to make this short: scarves were invented for hot weather. they were intended to wipe sweat off your face. you wearing one when it’s not even cold but to PRETEND that it’s cold so you can look like a hipster asshole is failing on so many levels it’s hard to comprehend.

and people still think humanity will be saved. if god chooses to save us, i will be disappointed in him. he can do better than this.

In the final thirty seconds of the #1 Indiana versus #4 MIch. St. game, the game stopped twice because of the incompetence of the timekeeper, which apparently is just some dumbass who wears a ref outfit, and sits in a chair the entire time. Why he doesn’t just have a sign that says: TIMEKEEPER in front of him is beyond me. They make him dress up in a monkey suit so basically everybody can point him out when he fucks up royally.

“You guys, make sure you press the button this time, okay? it’s kind of your only job.”

Anyway, twice the game started and the clock didn’t start, and twice all the refs congealed into a suck-tank around the replay screen, taking five to ten minutes each time to get the clock to the correct tenth of a second. each time the players, who are high on adrenaline from the game being close, have to wait around, having it wear off. the effort indiana had put into their full court press to enable fuck-ups because of fatigue down the stretch are now moot. their momentum on offense completely gone. their focus now shifted because of the confusion, and through all that, good ol Dick Vitale and Magic Johnson both concur,

“The important thing is they get the clock right.”

NO. THE IMPORTANT THING IS MY ENTERTAINMENT. 

you know whose adrenaline and focus all went out the window during these breaks? ME. the fucking fan who pays for you guys to compete. i don’t give a shit if the clock is a tenth off, or even a second off for that matter. WHAT I CARE ABOUT IS THE DRAMA OF SPORT. and every time you think you’re correcting a wrong by getting the clock right, you’re taking away from why anybody watches the fucking game in the first place.

So, let’s go through this logically, shall we? What do you get by getting the clock exactly right?

—A: The time.

What do you get by getting the clock estimated right? Or ignoring small ticks off the clock altogether?

—A: Drama, excitement, momentum, the chaos of the last moments of the game. heartbreak in real time.

You know what you don’t see in sports movies? assholes stopping to get the clock to get it right.

I mean, I’ll make it once they get the clock fixed…..okay….they’re still fixing it? hmm, what are you guys doing after the game? I guess I could see if my mom would let us have a party here, although bill’s house is much better. Oh. They fixed the clock? What was i saying?
Oh yeah, I’ll make it.

Getting the clock right has to be the dumbest fucking idea. it completely goes against the reason people watch sports. people don’t want the rules to influence the game, yet they’re fine with every other variable that makes the rules completely arbitrary. does it REALLY matter if the game clock is exact every time? how many games would be the outcome be changed? maybe 1 out of 100. but it probably changes a lot more based on the time it takes to fix the clock, slowing momentum and fatigue, benefiting the less in-shape team or the team that used all of its timeouts already.

it also changes 100 out of 100 games for the fan, who now has to let their excitement dip, and not reach the fever pitch that drama is supposed to build to. and those are who is important.

US. THE FANS. FUCK YOU TIMEKEEPER MAAAAAAN.

stay hot.

This is the definition of superficial:  of, relating to, or located near a surface (2) : lying on, not penetrating below, or affecting only the surface<superficial wounds>

This is where fat is located, according to wikipedia:  adipose tissue is located beneath the skin (subcutaneous fat), around internal organs (visceral fat), in bone marrow (yellow bone marrow) and in breast tissue.

Therefore, Rex Reed, the critic who called Melissa McCarthy a dump truck or something, is not being superficial.

This is not an example of someone feeling comfortable in “their own skin,” as deadline.com reporter Mike Fleming is quoted as saying. this is an example of obesity, a condition that is more dangerous than any other disease in america. it’s also preventable. if mike fleming wants his daughters to feel comfortable in their own skin, then he’s not describing obesity. people aren’t born this way. this is skin with 100 pounds of layered fat underneath, volunteer fat, fat that is not necessary for this body to function, and is, in fact, doing the opposite. this is not the same as someone being ugly. you are born with your face. you are not born with this body.

that people are calling for rex reed’s resignation and calling him ignorant because he called someone fat in a demeaning way is hilarious for a number of reasons:

1. people actually care about these two people. one is an actress is movies, the other is a guy who writes his opinions on these movies. they have no bearing on anybody’s daily life.

2. people actually have their blinders on enough to call this guy sexist cause he wouldn’t call a man fat, ignoring the 150 or so blatantly sexist movies and thousands of sexists songs that come out every year. nobody is calling for Flo Rida’s resignation from Atlantic.

3. lumping obese people in with other conditions such as disabilities, being ugly, race, etc. is not only ignorant, but insulting on such a higher level that all people who have this opinion should resign from their jobs if rex reed has to.

4. Her comedy includes fat jokes. i don’t like carlos mencia because all his jokes are about race. if rex reed doesn’t like female fat jokes, how is that any different than anyone’s opinion on what’s funny? FUNNY IS SUBJECTIVE YOU IDIOTS. THERE IS NO DOUBLE STANDARD. i like seeing women naked, not men. is that a double standard? fuck off.

5. most of the people who are upset at rex reed for name calling are, in the same fucking breath, calling him names. a few examples:

one more thing:

the defense to this shit is that rex reed is a “professional” critic and should be critiquing the merits of the movie. this implies, however, that there is some form of set rules for critiquing a movie, which they are none. a movie is a subjective experience, and just because you know something about film, doesn’t make your opinion more valid than someone else. the only thing that makes an opinion more valid is that someone else thinks it’s valid and decides to pay you for it. that, of course, is the Observer, the publication Rex Reed works for. therefore, saying Melissa McCarthy is “tractor-sized” is a critique of the movie by definition because the critic wrote it. if you don’t agree, then jesus christ just move on. it’s ridiculous that people feel threatened by other people’s opinions, like it’s somehow going to fuck up their own if they don’t rant and rave and try to get that person fired.

STAY HOT. IGNORE OPINIONS. ESPECIALLY THIS ONE.

i was scrolling down gawker.com yesterday and noticed one article had like a billion more clicks than any other. it was an article titled:

How to Talk to a Woman Without Being a Creep

The theme of this article was hard to gauge, but i think it was roughly similar to, i dunno, about eight thousand other blog posts written about relationships in the past couple seconds.

The internet. so original!

The worst part about this article is the comment section, filled with hundreds of posts with hundreds of replies, people having the same damn conversation about the problems with males and females and sex and flirting and every other cyclical frustration they occupy their youth and middle age with.

Here’s the answer to all your problems:

GIVE UP YOU PUSSY. 

That’s right, give up! What magical thing do you think is going to change by re-reading and re-hashing these issues that’s going to increase your chances of being in a good relationship? I don’t see you playing sports anymore. Or piano. Know why? you sucked at it! You gave up! Too bad! You correctly decided to spend your time more elsewhere, but for some reason you can’t apply the same logic to relationships, and now you’ve gone and gotten some random chick pregnant. nice one, bro.

Relationships are the biggest illusion of productivity. You can mask a blind date or a night at a bar as doing something productive, but the amount of time/money spent versus the outcome of your relationships is incredibly concave. There is very little upside (a 50% chance of getting/staying married!) and a lot of downside (jealousy, insecurity, money spent, time).

“So what TMF, am I just supposed to sit at home and jerk off every night?” – Chuck Klosterman

No! Just stop fucking stressing about it. it honestly doesn’t matter. putting all your time and emotion into relationships is just going to increase your chances of falling into the biggest fucking pitfall of all:

PROJECTING

Projection is the main reason i try to avoid listening to people talk about their significant others. 99% of the time they’re talking about a completely different person than the one they are currently dating, piling on projection after projection. why? because people are so goddamn afraid of being alone for more than two seconds they date people they legitimately don’t have anything in common with. and then i got to hear them bitch about it. (but the minute i start complaining about socio-economic issues or shitty tv shows, people think i’m a downer)

So what makes a good relationship?

I could not care less. the only thing i know is that there are better things to do with my time than listening to other people’s advice about it, especially on the internet. i prefer to focus on shit that actually makes me happy 100% of the time, like tennis, and writing, and talking shit on Andy Greenwald. i don’t need to project, and the amount of time i put into it, the better i get, especially with talking shit on Andy Greenwald. I’m a fucking pro at that now.

STAY HOT.

Need something done? POWERBALL IT, BITCH.

Here’s a list of things i would FOR SURE do if there was a powerball involved.

1. Vote. 

2. Pay my taxes. 

3. Get a motherfuckin’ flu shot. 

4. Be nice/respectful to people. 

5. EAT VEGGIES. 

You know what’s lame as shit about america? we believe in free-market capitalism but don’t use it to our advantage. instead, assholes are gaming the system while simple shit, like voting, gets manipulated due to people’s dogged laziness. Obama has one good choice, and that’s to powerball everything. don’t want to vote? fine, fuck you. no powerball ticket for you. you don’t want to eat healthy and get cancer? well, fuck you, no powerball ticket for you either.

you could probably turn most of this fucktard population into decent citizens within six months. for thousands of years, we’ve manipulated our tendency to lean towards emotions rather than logic (gambling, credit cards, etc), it’s time to start applying your inadequacy towards self-improvement. it’s certainly a better plan than the one that’s in place now:

fuck that shit!

STAY HOT.

(btw i’m going to mexico this weekend and will probably die [not before i vote for bill simmons in a mexican election though], so this is likely the last post ever. POWERBALL ticket for everyone who searches for my body.