The Inevitable.

This post marks an official change of format for Vikingblog. It is now a sports blog, and as such, I am now officially christening myself “a sports writer.” Thus, I have lowered myself to membership in two of the lowest reaches of the human species: Blogger, and sports writer.

 I only say “sports” blog, because I might want to write about baseball in the summer. Consider it a hockey blog. I live in Ottawa, and follow the Senators, so it will be somewhat Ottawa Senators-heavy. Deal with it, kids. Snazzy, sporty new look coming soon.

Time to get a little less masturbatory…

Since those last two posts were no good, and in addition to that, exhibited my being full of myself, I hope this post ends up actually being about something… I’m glad this doesn’t have a theme, like a political blog or something, because I have enough trouble writing when I have the entire universe to write about, nevermind if I were limited to one thing. That being said, here are my thoughts on my universe as of late.

Most of the important events in my universe are minor sports-related occurances, by the way. I’m a little conflicted about one event in particular… The Blue Jays trading former (and surely future too, if he really works at it) New York-Penn League All Star Eric Hinske. It’s down to a pro/con thing for me.

Pro – He sucked, made way too much money, and it was a struggle for him to hit his weight every year… In his defence, he’s gotten kind of fat, but that’s still not such an impressive number.

Con – The trade was Eric Hinske, his ridiculous contract, his retarded goatee, and cash to Boston for a ‘player to be named later.’ This means that they literally couldn’t GIVE Eric Hinske away — they were willing to give him up for nothing, and they still had to pay a team to take him. This emphasizes what a completely mediocre player he was, and why it’s good to have him off the team. However (and here’s why it’s a con): Everyone knows that in baseball trades, a “player to be named later” is always a middle relief pitcher from the team’s AA affiliate. The Red Sox just want to name the player later because they have yet to determine who their worst AA middle reliever is. The Blue Jays don’t need a mediocre AA middle reliver. They’ve already got Scott Downs.

Pro – His play is bound to cost the Red Sox a few games, and if he’s bad enough (which is about the only thing he’s proven he can be “enough” of in the past four seasons in Toronto), maybe he’ll even put the Red Sox out of the playoff race altogether. It’s like he’ll be an American League East sleeper agent acting on behalf of the Blue Jays to bring the Red Sox down from the inside. Bill Buckner was an All Star – imagine the damage Eric Hinske could do!

This is a pretty smart move on the Blue Jays’ part, really. The things they needed to get at the trading deadline were “pitching,” and “rid of Eric Hinske,” so they’ve gotten one of the things they needed. It’s a perfect match, really. I hate the Red Sox, and I wish terrible things upon them. The Blue Jays have just inflicted a terrible thing upon them.

Con – The Red Sox will probably be smart enough that they won’t even think about playing him. They just got him so they could have a higher payroll or something. If he sits on the bench all the time, then he won’t get a chance to bring them down from the inside, so it could be the worst of both worlds — The Red Sox could win another World Series, AND Eric Hinske would have a ring. Just so the world could spite me, he’ll probably get in the hall of fame or something. He’ll be “Eric Hinske: New York-Penn League All Star, 2002 American League Rookie of the year, 5 time World Series Champion, greatest third string DH/first baseman/third baseman/right fielder/left fielder of all time.”

While we’re at it, Dominik Hasek will lead the Red Wings to another Stanley Cup this year. What with him being my favourite hockey player, and the way that I have not yet seen the Red Wings win enough Stanley Cups in my lifetime. I’m really not sure why I’m a sports fan. I must be really down on sports if I can turn something as wonderful as the Blue Jays getting rid of Eric Hinske into a negative.

Encouraging people to love you is always a bad idea…

I’m not always a believer in karma. Except when something bad happens… The Vikingblog Love Olympics are cancelled. Due to my banning from a certain messageboard (I posted a really funny picture that happened to have a dick in it, so it was clearly worth it) – this blog has not received a single hit since the day the Love Olympic torch was lit. It previously received about 5-10 hits a day, so while that was not a lot, this is a big enough dropoff (since it was a dropoff to zero) to be such a tragic incident that it has harmed the Love Olympic movement so much that we simply cannot allow competition to continue. Since it never really started.

I’m not sure why I’m posting this on a blog that no longer has readers, but I am. I’m sorry, vikingblog. Someone will read you again someday, and when they do, I’ll be loved again.

In other news, fuck I’m glad the World Cup is over now. My Swedes were long gone unfortunately, but I can at least be happy it’s over. I don’t have to pretend to know anything about, or pretend to be interested in soccer again for another four years. As soon as I can get the Montreal Canadiens’ fans to stop singing that god forsaken “Ole, Ole, Ole…” song, my whole world will be back to normal.

Maybe I’d love them if I got to know them better?…

There are pretty terrible people in the world. Murderers rank among them; whether they’re the worst or not, I’m not to say. But they’re pretty bad. In fact, I hate murderers – if you’ll permit me to make such a broad generalization; particularly considering that I have, to my knowledge, never actually met a murderer before. Pretty well as a rule, I hate every murderer. Even religion, and “the bitch cheated on me” do not equate to satisfactory justification for murder to me, and even given these possible factors, I disagree with murder in every way that is currently apparent to me. Murder is a pretty impersonal issue to me compared to others, mind you. There are no murderers in my family, or among my friends after all.

I hate them. But every murderer has a family; I’d be willing to place a significant bet that upwards of 100% of all the murderers in the world have (or “had” if they’re the Menendez brothers) parents. I know not all parents are alike, but this means that in most likelihood, there is, or was, someone in their life that loves them. Assuming that their parents, spouse, friends, or other close family members were not the people that these murderers killed, it’s possible that they still do have people that love them. Despite having performed about the worst action a person ever could, these people – through decision, or inability to change – still love that person. They love their son, or daughter, or anything else; and that person is a murderer. They still love them, because when they look inside that person, they do not see a cold-blooded killer, or a heartless bastard, or anything else we call murderers. They see the person they love, and regardless of what that person has done, they are still that same person, and have formed an unbreakable bond of love. Though the murder is inexcusable to anyone, the murderer is seperate from their action in the minds of the people that matter. These family members, or friends don’t see the mugshot, or the footage on the 11:00 news. Because they love that person, and what they see inside them will always be good, and they know their heart too well to let their actions obscure their view of that heart. No prison bars can stop them from being touched by that heart.

Murderers or not, anyone is very lucky to have such a person in your life if they do. I really don’t know if I have any such people. And I’m not normally one for such pontification, or for posing a question to the universe. However: at a peak readership of eleven hits in one day (WOOO!); this blog is a far cry from “the universe.” As such, I pose this question to you, vikingblog readers – and I know you love me, because you’ve read my blog, so you pretty well don’t have a choice anymore – do you love me that much? Do you love me so much that, no matter who I murdered, or what I did to your prize-winning geraniums; nothing could ever change this, and you would still love me?

I guess what I’m really getting to here – what this entire entry has been stumbling toward is this: Do you really love me so much that it would not make you think any less of me as a person if…

Also…

Father's day is coming up. Double-you Tee Eff do I get my dad?

UPDATE!… I solved this issue – I forgot about Father's Day. PHEW! Really dodged a bullet there!

You know…

I bet when people break up with their boyfriends/girlfriends/significant others/spouses/ life partners/slaves/masters, etc… The worst part about it (you know, aside from the loss of their love, and companionship and all that shit)… is having to change the “status” box on their myspace page. The one where you choose ‘swinger, single, in a relationship, divorced, or married.’ That’s probably the saddest myspace update that ever happens. Either that, or changing the “companies” page, because they got fired from their job or something. Or changing their profile song, because they’re just not a Hollaback Girl anymore… All in all, myspace is a pretty depressing place, I guess.

Don’t read the rest (seriously) 

It’s a Thanagarian snare beast, that’s why…

Why the hell is every girl on earth afraid of bugs?… I’ve never met a single girl who didn’t have at least some kind of fear of bugs. Be it spiders, bees, or an “EEEEEE! WHAT’S THAT?!?!?!” – they’re all scared, and none of them seem to make it through their lives without shrieking in terror at the poor little bugs.

I’m sure it’s cute sometimes – I like feeling like a big, tough man as much as the next guy; and maybe sometimes smushing a moth with a dirty sock does make me feel like a hunter, and a protector. But this bullshit has to stop. They’re not scary. They’re not going to kill you. Most bugs probably have about 1.5 brain cells, and a life span of like two days, so just leave them alone.

What’s worse is that the portion of our population that has the “EEE! BUG! BUG!” complex is likely equalled by the “Omgz! Don’t kill it! It didn’t do anything to you!” people. Nobody in this society has a healthy attitude toward bugs. A healthy attitude toward bugs is as follows:

1. They are not scary. They’re not going to hurt you – if they’re on the other side of the room, or down the street, just settle down, and let the bugs go about their business, and you go about yours. No more shrieking, regardless of your gender. That shit is tired. If those guys can wear those beards of bees, surely you can take ONE bee flying around outside your window.

2. While they aren’t scary, they also are not members of your family. Bugs are annoying, and stupid, and it is your duty to kill them, should the opportunity arise. It’s not worth getting out of your chair to do it, but if they’re within swatting range, it’s well within your rights to smack those little fuckers into the stone age. If they’re nowhere near you, leave them alone – you look like a 7 year old if you’re running around chasing a bug. But if they get close enough for me to kill them with such ease, I consider that an insult. The bug is taunting me – it wants to die. It MUST die.

3. Nothing cruel – you don’t get to burn them with a magnifying glass, or pull off their limbs and wings (unless you’re REALLY bored, or they’re bugging you while you try and eat [I HATE that!]). It’s not that they deserve respect based on being living things (becasue they don’t), it’s just stupid to do all that. But you do get to crush them, or stomp them with all your might. Use a dirty sock, or a kleenex (if you’re a chick) to protect yourself from the bug guts; and one healthy, moderately hard whack. Don’t smear the guts everywhere, that’s gross. Fly swatters, bug zappers, and citronella candles are for babies, and interior decorators; and the bug has absolutely no rights to its life whatsoever. We are humans after all. Our comfort, and the enjoyment of our lifestyle comes before any insect, rainforest, or indigenous society.

Now that we know the rules, I hope everyone now understands both the necessity of, and the ettiquete involved in the removal of insects.

Ooh! You stud, you!

Alright, so the stud farm isn’t a new concept to me. Like with most men; only a few seconds newer to me is the concept of the ‘human stud farm.’ Look, we men work very hard in our lives. We need some kind of reward at the end of our peak years, like great racehorses get. Not just every man, just like it’s not just every horse. Sorry guys, it’s time to face it. Some of us are studs, but only some. The rest are hot dogs, and glue. We’ll have these human stud farms, but only the truly deserving, and/or genetically advanced will be put out to stud; like great scientists, or gifted athletes. Humanity can’t afford the loss of these people’s genes. Once they’ve outlived their usefulness, they can run free, and spend their days spreading their seed.

By their fireplace, with Barry White playing. That’s how genetically gifted people roll.

I really see this as a bold new direction for mankind. This would be an advancement of science that the human race could not do without. And of course with such a bold, and radical new procedure, there are risks, and I realize that there are things about our species with which we may not wish to trifle. I would not be so foolhardy as to suggest that right away we start to risk the health of our great scientists, and athletes by making them the first human studs. Heavens no – that’s where I come in. I know a lot of people offer their bodies to science, but I don’t think many do so in such a courageous, and noble manner as I am offering to.

… Watch out, ladies. Stud comin’ through!

The future… Inbox (2)

To: My future children

Re: I’m sorry.

I’m sorry you don’t like your names. Your mom picked them, but I’m sorry nonetheless. I should have spoken up, and thought of something better. Names are as important as they are permanent, and we just should have given yours a second thought before we let them print up your birth certificates. Sorry.

I’m sorry we lost your birth certificates. How often do you really need that thing anyway? I’m sorry we never took you to Disneyland. But GOD is it expensive!

I’m sorry I never let you win at any sports or games that I ever played with you. Your dad is very complicated, and somehow feels like it makes him less of a man if he loses to a six year old at mini golf.

I’m sorry your allowance kind of sucked. I know this is going to be a very ‘dad’ thing to say, but I never got one at all when I was a kid… Only reason you got one was because I was always mad at my parents for not giving me one… I’d like to think your tooth fairy payouts were pretty generous… You said your friends got more, but I think that was just a negotiating tactic.

I’m sorry I didn’t buy you the really fancy jeans when you were 16. Hopefully when you’re older, you’ll understand they were a waste of money. But probably not. That’s why I’m sorry.

I’m sorry your mom always embarassed you in front of your friends, and called you "honey" and stuff. I told her to cool it with that, I swear… She loves you very much – and I’m sure you know that – but her loving you doesn’t make you feel any less uncool when she walks into the change room before grade nine gym with your gym shorts in hand, and goes "oh, honey, you forgot these!" and kisses you before she leaves… Sorry about that. I know adolescence is a very awkward time. It was our job as parents to make sure of that.

(PS: To their future mom, in case she reads this… you really are going to do that… I know you don’t think so now, but you will. That’s how moms are. Not only is this something I will accept from you, but it is in fact an expectation that I have of you. I really don’t have a lot of those upon which I am insistent, but this is one of them… And they’ll be adorable, so you’ll pretty well have to – if you don’t do it, I will, and that’s a lot more acceptable from a mom.)

I’m sorry my generation didn’t save the planet for your kids… Look, I’m from the third generation in a row to do this, and the planet is still here. Don’t worry about it. Don’t forget you grew up in Canada. If the globe got a few degrees warmer in your lifetime, I really don’t see what the big deal is.

I’m sorry I called the music you listened to "a lot of racket." I’m sorry I said that, but it’s still pretty awful.

I’m sorry I never taught you to ride a bike, or swim. I do not know how to do either of these things myself. I trusted your mom, and the YMCA to do a good job of both, and you haven’t died in a bike accident, or drowned yet, so they did.

I’m sorry we never put you in really nice schools. Look, I just think private schools are bullshit.

I’m sorry I kiss your mom in front of you sometimes… I know you think it’s gross, but hopefully, someday you’ll be married to someone that amazing, and perfect, who you love more than all the video games, bad MuchMusic shows, overpriced jeans, and slurpees in the world put together; and you’ll understand why we were always that way. We always thought that if you saw, and felt the love in your house, you’d be able to have that same love in your house when you grew up… We really did try not to be too gross, though, I promise.

I’m sorry that when you went away to college, we bought you a lot of furniture from Ikea, and I didn’t know how to put any of it together.

I’m sorry I tried to teach you how to skate, and shoot a hockey puck before you could walk or talk… Dad has a bit of a problem.

I’m sorry we had you watch PBS when you were little, and I never donated any money to them… I guess this apology should be directed at PBS, not my pretend children… But I still feel really guilty about it.

I’m sorry I yelled at you a few times. I know it hardly ever happened, and you might not even remember it, but I remember, and feel bad about every time. I guess you really didn’t deserve it.

I’m sorry you never had really cool birthday parties like the kids on TV. Like with pony rides, or Barney, or clowns, or one of those big inflatable bouncy house things, or something… Actually, no – we’ll have one of those inflatable bouncy house things, but it’ll just be in the back yard all year round. It won’t just be for birthdays or anything.

True Patriot Love…

When I hear ‘O’ Canada,’ even when I’m just at home watching a hockey game on TV; I always stand… When there’s people there, I pretend to have a reason to get up, so it’s not embarrassing. I just think it’s rude not to.