Posts tagged ‘dumb’
Why the San Antonio Spurs are Boring
It turns out my buddy Juicebox finds people calling the Spurs boring annoying. I am currently watching the game (is watching the right word? It makes it seem like I’m not prying my fingernails off), and I wanted to write a post in honor of this thing he finds annoying.
I don’t actually care about basketball that much. When I watch, I root for the Suns, so I don’t like Robert Horry. And the Spurs still hurt a little because of the year they knocked out the Suns (and the controversy surrounding it).
That’s not what I’m here to talk about though. I’m here to talk about why the Spurs are more boring than a coworker’s dogs medical history. This was very difficult to come up with, but here are five things that are as boring as the Spurs.
- When someone is telling a story and they say “hoary” and you think they mean “whore-y” but no, they meant “hoary.” Temporary dose of excitement GONE.
- The variety of commercials whenever you watch something online (like ESPN3 or TNT basketball).
- The stuff you read through when you google “really boring things.” One of which was a video of Martha Stewart talking about boring things. Oh, internet.
- This list.
- Manu Ginobili’s bald spot. (Rumor has it his bald spot isn’t even real. Gregg Popovich asked him to shave it into his head to, “add some excitement to the team.”)
In reality, I way over-explained my actual opinion on why the Spurs are “boring” to Juicebox. I explained way past the point of his caring, but I thought it was accurate and a good explanation, so here it is again.
The Spurs are boring to MOST people watching the NBA finals. Why? Because most people watching aren’t big NBA fans. I really like, and know, football. Baseball is second. If I go to a baseball game and it’s a great pitcher’s duel – only four hits all game and the game ends 1-0 … that’s probably boring to most people. But you know what? Because I know the sport, I appreciate the talent that led to that happening.
The Spurs are very methodical, smart, organized, and they execute well. As someone who doesn’t care about the NBA, this is incredibly boring. I want stupid antics, over-the-top personalities, and nonsense. I don’t want to have to admit these things, because that means I’m into DRAMA … but you know what? That’s what people are hoping to see. Lebron causes conversations, Tim Duncan causes naps.
Face it folks, we want the drama. If we didn’t, the Spurs wouldn’t be BORING, they’d be amazing.
Memorial Day Weekend Hyjinks
Over this past weekend I flew home because of the extended Memorial Day weekend. It was great to get to spend four nights in Arizona with the family.
We headed to northern Arizona, to spend time at a family cabin in the woods. It’s very beautiful there. While my parents, brother, and sister normally endure 100+ degree summer temperatures – the cabin has 70s and 80s. It is heavenly. Plus it just plain smells nice.
The crew at the cabin for the weekend was: myself, E$, my bro, sister-in-law, their FIVE kids, and my parents. It would be a relaxing weekend if not for the number five.
Here are a few highlights from the weekend (I will leave the infamous nephew’s name off).
Luxurious Armpit Pillow
Originally, the brotha-in-law was supposed to come up. Unfortunately, work reached out its evil paw and kept him in its clutches. The sleeping arrangements were then revised accordingly. I no longer had to sleep on the couch. Instead, my sister and I would be sleeping in a king bed together (I created a wall of pillows and said DO NOT CROSS – I’m a sweetheart). E$ and I taking this bed moved my brother and sis-in-law to another bedroom. No biggie.
That is, until about 3 am.
At 3 am the door to E$ and I’s bedroom started to open. You really have to work at the door. It creaks like a song in remix mode. Ree-ree-ree-ree *opened.* This woke me up. I heard a little noise (my sister guessed the poor little kid was crying) and then tiny hands moving along the bed. All the sudden the kid was up and crawling on me. I responded, in a loving voice, “which one are you?” The kid didn’t say a word! I would’ve thought that someone saying, “which one are you?” would be an upsetting question but the kiddo was unfazed (E$ aptly pointed out later that she could very well see our brother asking the exact same question).
My follow-up question was shock, “are you already asleep!?” That is just plain impressive. This kid had walked around, crawled up on me, stuck his head in my armpit (it apparently makes a heck of a pillow) and boom he was out.
E$ and I were wide awake. She decided to head to the bathroom. When she got back I figured I’d do the same. I tried to very gently roll the sleeping prince of unawareness off of me. It took. Phew! I got up and then a sad little voice, “daddy! … don’t go!?” Awww. Adorable right?
“All right, let’s take you back to your proper owner.”
The kid was returned to the parental units and sleep was soon restored.
He’ll be a Private Eye Someday (ya know, a dick)
Unfortunately this happened while I was outside talking to a friend on the phone – but it’s too good not to relay on.
The same prince of unawareness from the night before was in the little boys room. The door, of course, wide open.
His older brother asked about his whereabouts and the kiddo responded, “I’m in the bathroom!”
A minute or two later the kiddo yells out, with some concern, “you guys …. I can’t find my penis …”
Yep. That was said.
My mom offered to take the baby from my brother so he could go help a brotha out. He politely declined, choosing to let time heal all wounds. Thankfully it worked. Another minute or two passed and,
“Nevermind! … I found it …”
The youth of America, ladies and gentlemen.
DumbFunnery 