Sportsies

Can somebody please tell Hillary Clinton she’s acting like the bloodied, puffy-faced boxer who throws his hands up in victory at the end of a fight even though everyone watching can see that he’s lost? Dude… quit it. You so aren’t winning. I’m sure you’re expecting some more analogies here… another sardonic observation to maybe back up that premise. Well, tough. I’m tired. I just felt bad because I haven’t posted in a while.

It’s been a long time, I shouldn’t have left you
Without a strong rhyme to step to
Think of how many weak shows you slept through
Time’s up, I’m sorry I kept you…

You’re Welcome.

I’ve had a bunch of random thoughts recently that I hope to turn into bits. One is about how I always wanted to try being a sportscaster… but I don’t have any of the prerequisites… Hilarious right? Yeah I know. I heart Bob Costas. Really. I know a lot of people are annoyed by him, but it’s just because he knows everything about everything and they’re intimidated. I, however, am not. Cause I recognize he’s supernatural. No one’s talking in his earpiece. He has every one of those facts filed away in his head. He’s like Rain Man for sports. Give dude a cape and some tights and he’d be… Fill in your own blank, I’m too tired for this ish… Huh?!?!?

Good nite