popping my cherry

In order to gain support for my blog idea, I convinced Omar to create his own blog. Turns out he already had two. Both had one post each. The two posts had a total of three words between them.

His latest attempt, following my encouragement yesterday, is this.

Umm.. yeah.

In other news, Darrell Hair is a choot. I was going to write a long scathing piece about him, but thankfully my rage has subsided slightly. At least it's no longer like last Sunday, when I was nearly catatonic and threw a bottle of pomegranate juice on my bed. Luckily it was nearly empty, because otherwise not only would my bed have been a mess, it would also have been worth like a million dollars more, given the exorbitant price they charge for that shit. $4.99 a bottle my ass.

For now, I have only this to say: I wish I could accuse an athlete of cheating, not provide any proof, and then in the subsequent ruckus ask my employer to give me a half million bucks to never have to work again.

And why does everyone keep talking about how he was 'technically following the rules.' Of course he's following the fucking rules, because the rules basically say "the umpire can do whatever he wants whenever he wants." Evidently, if Darrell Hair feels like taking a piss on Inzamam's shoe in the middle of the pitch, he will still be following the rules... of course, if Inzi protests, he will probably be charged with 'bringing the umpire's dick into disrepute.'

Asshole.