Holy freakin' crap - the NHL is back! Thank God because if I had to deal with a all-NBA winter again I think I would have shot myself. Finally the NHLPA and NHL owners penned an agreement ending the 301 day lockout that cost us last season. You don't care about hockey? Well kiss my ass then, cause I do!
All we need now is the players to ratify the deal and the offseason/preseason process can begin. And it's not like the players are going to not ratify the deal. They're already out a buttload of money from not playing last year. They've already screwed themselves out of a better deal when they didn't accept the owners' offer in March. So we will have hockey come this October and I am pumped. I haven't been this excited since that time I found out Perfect Strangers was on TV Land at 3am - "Balki, stop standing in the toilet!" "Oh coosin Larry, in my country, dees is how we say I love you!"
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With that out of the way I must get to some serious matters. There's a pool at my apartment complex. It is home to an inexcusable freak show of sorts. People, that is. They are freaks...hence the term, Freak Show. (I love sentence fragments.) Here's the rundown...
I was sitting by the pool yesterday when I almost boiled over. I've been by the pool with the Freak Show before but it never got this bad. I should also remind you that within the Freak Show are five human beings, if you can call them that.
There's the weird old, fat lady who looks like a horse had sex with Fred Flinstone and had a bad titjob who thinks she runs the pool, always with her hands on her hips like her shit don't stink (which it most certainly does). There's Loser #1 who is some tall skinny guy with a bad dye job who apparently knows the words to every crappy R&B song ever made and has no jumping-into-the-pool move other than a poorly executed jackknife. There's Loser #2 who is about 80 lbs. soaking wet who has an abnormally large beer gut (origin unknown), smokes cigarettes like a Richard Simmons wannabe, and can't jump into the pool without holding his nose like a 5 year-old.
Then there's the Old Homeless Dude. I'm not sure what his deal is but he's got to be like 80 and he always wears the same crusty white sneakers, beat up red t-shirt and goofy "I might have AIDS but you'd never know so I won't tell anyone for fear of being kicked out of this freak show of a pool community" smirk on his face. Then there's Psycho Hosebeast. This is a behemoth of a girl that probably fell into a vat of lard and sucked it all up to ward off asphyxiation. She waddles around the pool talking very loudly with her bright pink one piece on with her "they're only huge and super saggy 'cause I'm gargantuan" boobs flopping all over the place. She also enjoys saying stupid things like "Oh my god, what's that song by Outkast? It's so good, the 'roses smell like poo poo' one. Hahaha, it's sooo funny!". Wow, yea, I like that song, too. That line was somewhat humorous...nearly two years ago when the song came out.
And then there's Fatty Fat Fat-fat the pool attendant. She must be somewhere north of 300 lbs. as well and could not have more back titties. It's quite disgusting. Last time I checked, weren't pool attendants and lifeguards supposed to be fit? Ya know, in case someone started drowning or needed help in some way or had to be able to lift the lounge chairs out of the pool after I throw them all in? I mean, seriously. My buddy Stu and I were discussing our revulsion of them and how not ending them would be a disservice to us all. This was part of the exchange:
Me: I really want to just huck a grenade in the middle of that Freak Show.
Stu: We'd have to dive into the pool to avoid the shrapnel though.
Me: This is true, what if I just beat them all with a baseball bat?
Stu: That could work. Or what if I just took a knife and slit that fat one's Achilles tendon? She'd buckle and Eeeeerrrrrrrrggghh (cue slow falling sound of something huge) hit the deck.
Me: [laughing uncontrollably, standing up and imitating the beast going down in slow motion.]
If this cross-section of people is a microcosm of America as the "melting pot" then God help us. I can do with the weird Indian guy nearly accidentally drowning his toddler daughter in the pool or the trailer trash pregnant woman smoking or the Hard Hittin' New Britain wigger sleezeballs and their slutastic girlfriends up in this piece, but the Freak Show puts me over the edge. See kids, this is why we have abortions. Because taking them out in the 532nd trimester is considered murder. Crafty governments and their laws.
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