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Jan. 22nd, 2005 04:11 pmSomething I will never understand:
There is a storm coming. So people go insane and run out to buy everything in the world. Last year at this time, a storm caused an HOUR LONG line at Movie Gallery. This year, I spent today's shift madly running about and ringing people up for the gas that they SO CLEARLY need in order for their car to - spend the blizzard sitting in the driveway. Of course.
WTF?
This is MAINE in the twenty-first century, people, not Oregon in 1860. A blizzard is not going to cut us off from civilization for a month. It's going to inconvenience us for a weekend. There is no need to stock up as though you'll be stuck in your home til mid-February. Really. I promise. And if you cannot understand this, please move to Florida. Thank you.
So this could very well have been the worst day ever. Even worse than yesterday, most of which I spent in a homicidal rage. And, yeah, the last hour and a half was rough, as I had spent the previous five or six using every ounce of energy I had without a chance to stop and eat something substantial. Or, you know, breathe. So I was pretty wiped.
But most of the shift just flew by, and I was in a good mood, and guess who I have to thank for this?
Princess A-Rod, that's who.
Because before things got crazy, I had a chance to pick up a Boston Herald and read this story, wherein A-Rod tough-guys about Schilling's calling him on his "bush-league play" in Game Six: "I just hope he continues to talk about me and my teammates. It's going to give us great motivation to beat him up in the future." He then goes on to say, "To me it was just odd, because I mean we beat him a couple times during the year and he was crying on the bench."
I can't IMAGINE how Schill could possibly imply that this guy is classless.
So I thought the highlight of the article was Schilling's response to this: "I don't care what Alex says. When someone says that, you consider the source." So few words, such an overwhelming win for the title of Snark God.
But. It gets better. Because . . . well, I really don't think I can say it better than the Princess himself.
"Coming in for me was totally different than most players. I think you have to ask Rocket [Roger Clemens], myself, probably Randy [Johnson] and the upper-echelon-type of player, because there's a much grander responsibility that comes along with being who I am, and I understand that completely."
UPPER-ECHELON. GRANDER RESPONSIBILITY. Dude. You hit a BALL with a STICK. If I had written this shit as dialogue in my fic, I would have deleted it for being too over-the-top.
Just when I think A-Rod's total lack of self-awareness has reached its limit, and that he must have a basic sense of irony somewhere in there (I still believe this of all human beings, for I am young and naive), he proves me wrong. Boy, does he ever prove me wrong.
Thank you, Princess, for filling my day with such joy. Above, you will find an icon that I have made in tribute.
And thank you, Fate, for keeping this guy off our team. Because DAMN.
There is a storm coming. So people go insane and run out to buy everything in the world. Last year at this time, a storm caused an HOUR LONG line at Movie Gallery. This year, I spent today's shift madly running about and ringing people up for the gas that they SO CLEARLY need in order for their car to - spend the blizzard sitting in the driveway. Of course.
WTF?
This is MAINE in the twenty-first century, people, not Oregon in 1860. A blizzard is not going to cut us off from civilization for a month. It's going to inconvenience us for a weekend. There is no need to stock up as though you'll be stuck in your home til mid-February. Really. I promise. And if you cannot understand this, please move to Florida. Thank you.
So this could very well have been the worst day ever. Even worse than yesterday, most of which I spent in a homicidal rage. And, yeah, the last hour and a half was rough, as I had spent the previous five or six using every ounce of energy I had without a chance to stop and eat something substantial. Or, you know, breathe. So I was pretty wiped.
But most of the shift just flew by, and I was in a good mood, and guess who I have to thank for this?
Princess A-Rod, that's who.
Because before things got crazy, I had a chance to pick up a Boston Herald and read this story, wherein A-Rod tough-guys about Schilling's calling him on his "bush-league play" in Game Six: "I just hope he continues to talk about me and my teammates. It's going to give us great motivation to beat him up in the future." He then goes on to say, "To me it was just odd, because I mean we beat him a couple times during the year and he was crying on the bench."
I can't IMAGINE how Schill could possibly imply that this guy is classless.
So I thought the highlight of the article was Schilling's response to this: "I don't care what Alex says. When someone says that, you consider the source." So few words, such an overwhelming win for the title of Snark God.
But. It gets better. Because . . . well, I really don't think I can say it better than the Princess himself.
"Coming in for me was totally different than most players. I think you have to ask Rocket [Roger Clemens], myself, probably Randy [Johnson] and the upper-echelon-type of player, because there's a much grander responsibility that comes along with being who I am, and I understand that completely."
UPPER-ECHELON. GRANDER RESPONSIBILITY. Dude. You hit a BALL with a STICK. If I had written this shit as dialogue in my fic, I would have deleted it for being too over-the-top.
Just when I think A-Rod's total lack of self-awareness has reached its limit, and that he must have a basic sense of irony somewhere in there (I still believe this of all human beings, for I am young and naive), he proves me wrong. Boy, does he ever prove me wrong.
Thank you, Princess, for filling my day with such joy. Above, you will find an icon that I have made in tribute.
And thank you, Fate, for keeping this guy off our team. Because DAMN.
