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

Future World Champ

parking1.jpg

There are some things I’m modest about. Others, not so much.

But lately the thing I’ve found myself most proud of are my AMAZING (and I do mean A-MAAAAY-ZING) parallel parking skills. I promise you I can parallel park in a spot that’s literally too small for my car and still have 3 inches of space in the front and back (and by ‘literally’ of course I mean, I’m a comedian and prone to exaggeration). I secretly love to be in the car with someone who is a poor parallel parker because there’s always a chance they’ll ask me to help them get into a spot.

On more than one occasion, I’ve pulled my car into a particularly tight space on my way to meet friends, and then forced them to come back outside with me and see what a good job I did. I know it’s a disease. I feel like Rain Man… “I’m really an excellent parker. Dad let me drive slow on the driveway.”

But I really am good.

Almost two years ago, I moved into the place I live in now and it’s a one-way street. At first I found it challenging. Why, you ask? Well because I was a much better parallel parker on the right side of the street than on the left… Though I’m sure that even then, I was a better left-side-of-the-street parallel parker than any of you reading this.

Did I mention that I’m also a really big shit talker?

Anyway, the one-way street parking has only enhanced my skills–and what will one day (I’m sure) be a legendary career in parallel parking. Really. There are sports for so many ridiculous things. Why shouldn’t I be able to park competitively? Maybe not in 2012, but I’m gonna petition for that in the 2016 Olympic games for sure. Curling? What? Parking is where it’s at, son.

EJ. Future World Parking Champ. Out.