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fabot. funny enough to read

Sunday, April 29, 2007


Okay, so, i'll come out with it. I'm a wrestling fan. I always have been, and probably always will be. Even though i pine for the days of the WWF "Attitude" era, and now just pretty much suffer through the "WWE" programming, i still like wrestling, and will probably watch it for at least the immediate future.

That being said, i dislike assholes. There are some stories that you read occasionally that make you think to yourself, "wow, this guy... a-hole." Batista is a wrestler with the WWE, who was the champion until a few weeks ago when he lost it to the Undertaker at Wrestlemania. He shouldn't have been wrestling the Undertaker if he wanted to keep his title, since he's 15-0, but i digrees... and show off my infinite geekiness. Anyway, on to the story. The wrestling superstars were in europe last week doing a series of shows and promotions, and well, here is the account from a disappointed dad:
Batista upset several WWE fans from the UK earlier in the week at an autograph signing. He didn't bother to speak or look up to the fans at the signing. He also refused to have pictures taken. One youngster named Kyle went home in tears after meeting his ex-wrestling idol. Kyle's dad said, "Kyle got a ticket and couldn't sleep the night before, he was so excited at meeting Batista and he had the afternoon off school. All his mates were telling him how jealous they were. But when he got there we were told Batista would only be signing WWE merchandise. We queued for nearly two hours and he signed a WWE book, didn’t even look at him or say a word and that was it. His mum was trying to take a picture of the two on the mobile phone but his bouncers kept standing in the way to stop it. Dad also added, "And he refused to sign a birthday card that Kyle had taken in because it is his birthday in three weeks. I think it is absolutely disgraceful for a man who is loved by so many kids to behave like this. We go down to the Wolves training ground all the time and they can’t do enough for us. If they can make the effort I don't see why a jumped-up bloke in tights can’t do the the same. Kyle couldn’t stop crying." HBK also ignored several fans and gave attitude to those who approached him at different locations.
Okay, so, i'm not a parent yet, and i don't think i will be for awhile, but when i read stuff like this, it gets all my parent juices flowing. Juices i didn't even know i had. It makes me want to do something to get back at this guy who thinks he's some hot shit just because he has huge muscles and is on tv. I mean, it's one thing if the guy asking for a picture and an autograph was actually the dad for his own personal bemusement, but it was for his kid... who was there. The kid was crying. CRYING! You gotta be pretty heartless to make a kid cry.

I remember being super excited about crap when i was a kid, and feeling the chilling bite of disappointment. Unfortunately for me, the encounters of disappointment have yet to subside, but i don't feel as bad about it now, because i've come to the realization that people for the most part suck ass, but when i think back at my younger self, and his sadness upon meeting a celebrity that he is genuinely excited to meet, yet not receiving the time of day (thanks david copperfield... you bastard), i feel bad for the kid, and i want to punch david copperfield in the face. Damnit i hate david copperfield.

Oh wait, i mean, batista for being such an ass to that kid... (whew, nice save)

So anyway, my advice to you all is this: if you are famous, or one day become famous for reasons other than being on the sex tape of someone else that's famous, try being nice to people, because people won't go out of their way to tell you how great you are, but they certainly will go out of their way to point out what an asshole you are on some blog that no one reads.


Saturday, April 28, 2007


So, i realize that i haven't written a post in... iono a year? but there's a good reason for it. the reason? well, um, i've been ill. yeah, that's a good one. really really ill. okay, so not really, but i've been busy furiously writing for my other blog fulmer's belly. If you haven't been there, go there now, and go back at least 30-40 times a day. it makes you smarter. i swear.

anyway, i've been working on some new material since it's the football offseason, and well, i'll probably never post it, but you know, a guy can dream.

have a good weekend

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

Heat Wave...

Weather is a funny thing. There are many different types of weather, and different types of reactions to those different types of weather. Weather is very versatile, we all have to deal with it, and it's the universal ice breaker.

(awkward silence)
"Man, it's really windy today"
"Fancy a fuck?"

This is usually where the wheels fall off the wagon for me, but if you have had other experiences, let me know. But the weather thing doesn't seem to be quite enough for me to "close the deal" if you know what i mean.

Anyway, there was a relative heat wave rolling it's ugly ass through the california area today, and it was pretty terrible. Imagine, it's november, and i'm just minding my own damn business, and all of a sudden, there's more sweat dripping from my body than there is stink coming from the weird dude sitting next to me on the bus (ok, so i don't take the bus, nor have i ever taken the bus, but i'd imagine it'd be full of smelly dudes).

My car registered somewhere in the neighborhood 91 degrees today. Ninety one freaking degrees. I mean, wtf people? I have lived in california for the last 2 years, and i still can't really get used to the weather. And by can't get used to, i mean, can't get used to the fact that the weather never changes. I mean, it's sunny all the time. Is that even right? I don't think so. Weather is supposed to change, and the changing it does here is go from sunny, to a little less sunny. It's craziness i tell you, craziness.

Of course, this weekend, when i am out of town, it's supposed to cool down, but in the meantime, i'm stuck in a heatwave a week after i got a letter informing me that my a/c had been shut off. Yay is me. Upon seeing the forecast for today, i had to drench my boxers, then throw them in the freezer in preparation for the sweating my balls were about to encounter. Did it help? Well, once they come back out of hiding, I'll let you know.

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

Deal, or Kill me in the Face...?

Those who know me know that i'm the awesomest person to ever walk the earth a pretty laid back individual. For the most part, things don't really illicit such strong feelings from me that i am able to call it hate. The things that i in fact do say that i hate are few and far between. Generally, it can be summed up with 3 words: cil-lan-tro. That's right, i absolutely hate cilantro. It tastes like what i imagine asshole would taste like. Well, asshole probably tastes like meat, so in fact, cilantro is worse... than ass...

This brings me to my next issue of hate. For the most part, i can see or hear something that annoys me (like the el pollo loco theme song), but then forget about it when the next annoying song comes along. Most of the time, this holds pretty true, but then again, every once in awhile, there comes a force so strong, that even my powers of apathy are helpless to stop them. This brings us to our central point:

Damnit i hate howie mandel. There are a plethora of reasons why i feel this hatred. I mean, i think he's a funny guy, which actually keeps the hatred to slightly hate instead of say, wish were eaten by fire ants, but there is still more bad than good. Let's roll down the points, shall we?

1. Being a germaphobe - This has got to be one of the dumbest phobias out there. I mean, afraid of germs? Wtf? Anyone who isn't 4 years old knows that there's no such thing as germs. There's viruses, bacteria, things like that, but a word that is all encompassing? Nope. So, the germaphobe within dear mr. mandel apparently manifests itself through the inability to touch his palm against someone elses' palm otherwise known as the "handshake."
Instead, he does something called the "fist punch" or the "stupid secret handshake." He does this by extending his fist and the move is finished when the other person pounds his fist against said fist. So, what if there are "germs" on my fist? Ever thought about that? Didn't think so.

2. The soul patch - I think howie has mistaken himself for being apollo anton ohno (which in case you don't remember, which i'm assuming most people don't, was the short track speed skater in the olypmics who had pubes on his chin). I don't even know what the point is of having facial hair if it's only going to be the same shape as his pubic hair. Not that i've seen his pubic hair, and not that i want to... damnit, i knew this would blow up in my face.

3. The damn show - Is there a more mind-numbing show than deal or no deal? I've become stupider at the mere mention of the show. See? I don't even think "stupider" is a word. And if it is, may it be featured on the next compelling episode of deal or no deal. "Up next, someone will win a million dollars, or may i be labeled stupider than others." Yes, i can see it now, and it is grand.

Ok, so maybe i've been a bit hard on mr. mandel, and i'm sure he's a good guy (although rule #13 states: never trust a bald man with pubes on his chin), but for now, he's right up there... with cilantro, and if i were martha stewart, i would have to say "that's not a good thing."

Monday, October 23, 2006

New column!!!

Aiight peeps, i know like no one reads this damn thing anyway, but for the one person that does, there will be a new column this wednesday. YAY!

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

Commercialization, in a good way...

This has absolutely nothing to do with anything, but it's freaking hilarious. FWIW, the commercial was banned, and well, shouldn't be, because it's awesome.

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Jumbo Shrimp

There are lots of things that don't make sense in this crazy world of ours. For instance, the existance of a word called oxymoron. I mean, why would there even need to be a word that describes something that contradicts itself? It seems really stupid that we have words and phrases that are capable of contradicting themselves, but alas, that is the case, and such is the way of life.

Everyone is familiar with oxymorons, you've got your jumbo shrimp, military intelligence, southern hospitality, not-awesome-people named jon and so on and so forth, but overall, the true meaning of the word seems overshadowed by the fact that none of these things are truely that contradictory.

Sure, there are funny plays on words, but i propose now that we should in fact change the definition of the word oxymoron to describe things that are moronic. Doesn't that seem to fit better? Isn't the fact that the word oxymoron doesn't have "moron" in the definition seem moronic already? Or should i say, oxymoronic? Ok, that was terrible, but bear with me here.

One of the things i've never understood was lights or whistles or anything that takes extra power to do, that indicate that you're running out of power. My cell phone makes all these extra sounds, and starts blinking icons when the battery is about to run out. It uses way more power telling me that the battery is going to run out instead of i don't know, saving it's batteries. That, my friends, is oxymoronic.

My laptop actually does the same thing. When I unplugged it to sit somewhere else to write this, a little light came on, indicating that the battery was now in use. Thanks. Well, i guess i shouldn't be too critical lest the battery might explode in my face, but if that happens, well, i guess you won't be reading this anyway, so it won't matter.

Perhaps one of the most mind boggling vortexes of oxymoronic behavior i have ever seen was on an iron. Not iron as in the chemical compound "fe" but an iron as in the thing you press your clothes with. What's that you say? It's fashionable to have crumpled up clothes? You don't even know what an iron is? Well, you, my friend, suck. And look like a hobo. So go out and buy a fucking iron to see what i'm talking about.

But i digress. I witnessed an iron once, that was plugged in, used, then turned off. Now, the entire time it was being used, it made no indication that it was on except for the fact that you could burn your hand off if trying to grab it by the metal end which one could have done quite easily due to the fact that nothing on the iron (save the heat) indicated that it was on at all. Once the iron was turned off however, a light came on. A light to indicate that the iron was off. Let me repeat that. A light came on to indicate that the iron was off.

Needless to say, upon seeing this, my brain melted and leaked out my nose. In the most mind-bogglingly dumb show of terrible design ever conceived by man (and this includes the invention of the fart extinguisher), i could do nothing but take a step back and take in the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. Like i said, my brain melted, and leaked out my nose. What more is there to say? I'll tell you what, nothing.

Mitch Hedberg's QotD:
I got a lamp in my hotel room and it has a 3-way lightbulb in it. If you don't know a lightbulb is a 3-way lightbulb, it messes with your head, because you go to turn it off and it just gets brighter. Like "Damn it, lightbulb, that's the exact opposite of what I wanted you to do." And then you turn it again and it gets brighter once more. "I will break you."