Saturday, January 13, 2007
Whoa Nelly!
Tonight The Wife forced me to go out and play with my friends. She realized (more than I did) that I hadn't really been hanging out with my friends much lately. I shouldn't say that I didn't realize it. It's more that when the weekend comes around, I'm just tired and I want to sit around doing nothing. But as it turned out, one of my friends knew somebody that was having a party tonight. It was a "guy" night, revolving around the two NFL playoff games tonight. And I had the best time I've had in a very long while.
In case you don't know, I'm very sarcastic. But it's more than just that. I like to fuck with people. And, really, there's no better way to put it. Generally, my targets have always been naive women. (Sadly, I turned my ability to spot naive women into having sex with them. Instead, I've made them hate me with every fiber of their being. And you wonder why I had to resort to the internet to find The Wife.) But tonight was different. I found a guy who was WAY too into football. And I realized that he'd be great to fuck with.
Dick (as I choose to call him, for obvious reasons) wasn't hard to spot. We were sitting around watching the football game and Dick came in, telling his friend about how his girlfriend's mother was hitting on him, rubbing his thigh. The story was lame, but what made it worse was that Dick told it IN FRONT OF THE TV. Thanks, asshole. When Dick's story was over, he took a seat. Dick's also a guy who clearly works out, and likes everyone to know it. And he also had his baseball hat turned to the side, which automatically annoys me. This guy just screamed that he was a jock who was way too cool for school, so to speak. At one point, someone made a comment about football and Dick belittled him, feeling the need to show how he knew more about footbal than the rest of us. And all I could think was "bullseye."
I forget exactly how it started, but somebody brought up Brett Favre. I hate Brett Favre. With a passion. I refuse to admit that he's one of the best quarterback's that ever played, solely because he spent most of his years with the Packers. So of course, I said that Brett Favre wouldn't be so good if it weren't for all the pain pills he was popping back in the day (which is a valid argument). So Dick told me that I didn't know what the hell I was talking about, that I didn't know football. Part of me got angry. But part of me realized this guy was a tool, a tool that needed to be put in his place.
So I looked at him and said in a very belligerent and stone-faced way that Brett Favre wasn't half the quarterback that Bernie Kosar was. Now, if you know anything about Bernie Kosar, it's that he was NOT a great quarterback. He's best known for being a very immobile quarterback for the Cleveland Browns who might have cost them the chance at going to the Super Bowl. He was beloved in Cleveland (as I understand it), but everyone else thought he was a bit of a loser. He did win a national championship with Miami (the University, not the Dolphins) though. And so my argument was that Bernie Kosar was a better quarterback than Brett Favre because he won a national championship and Brett Favre didn't. Dick was apoplectic.
He kept yelling at me that I didn't know football, that I was an idiot. I couldn't argue against the idiot claim (since that's exactly what I was aiming for). So instead, I kept insisting that Bernie Kosar was better than Brett Favre. I pulled out statistics like the "fact" that Bernie Kosar had a better winning percentage. I don't know if it's actually true (because I made it up), but it doesn't matter. I was just trying to push Dick's buttons. And it worked like a charm. Dick ended up in an argument with someone who was arguing complete nonsense, but he couldn't resist pointing out that I was wrong. And that just made me argue more blatantly wrong points with false statistics. If Dick would have just shut up and ignored me, the whole thing would have blown over. But instead, he had to prove that he knew more about football than everyone else. And so he had to argue with the biggest "moron" at the party. And that's what I love about people like Dick. By arguing with people like me, instead of showing how "knowledgable" they are, they show what assholes they are.
What made the whole argument better was that I was surrounded by my friends, who all knew the shenanigans I was pulling. They were laughing their asses off, which made it very difficult (in fact impossible) for me to keep a straight face. And so after about 5 minutes of me trying to convince him that Bernie Kosar would have led the Packers to more Super Bowl wins that Brett Favre, Dick realized that I was just fucking with him. It probably didn't help that I was now trying to convince him that Billy Joe Hobert was better than Favre. Still, those 5 minutes of antagonizing this Dick made the whole night wonderful.
In case you don't know, I'm very sarcastic. But it's more than just that. I like to fuck with people. And, really, there's no better way to put it. Generally, my targets have always been naive women. (Sadly, I turned my ability to spot naive women into having sex with them. Instead, I've made them hate me with every fiber of their being. And you wonder why I had to resort to the internet to find The Wife.) But tonight was different. I found a guy who was WAY too into football. And I realized that he'd be great to fuck with.
Dick (as I choose to call him, for obvious reasons) wasn't hard to spot. We were sitting around watching the football game and Dick came in, telling his friend about how his girlfriend's mother was hitting on him, rubbing his thigh. The story was lame, but what made it worse was that Dick told it IN FRONT OF THE TV. Thanks, asshole. When Dick's story was over, he took a seat. Dick's also a guy who clearly works out, and likes everyone to know it. And he also had his baseball hat turned to the side, which automatically annoys me. This guy just screamed that he was a jock who was way too cool for school, so to speak. At one point, someone made a comment about football and Dick belittled him, feeling the need to show how he knew more about footbal than the rest of us. And all I could think was "bullseye."
I forget exactly how it started, but somebody brought up Brett Favre. I hate Brett Favre. With a passion. I refuse to admit that he's one of the best quarterback's that ever played, solely because he spent most of his years with the Packers. So of course, I said that Brett Favre wouldn't be so good if it weren't for all the pain pills he was popping back in the day (which is a valid argument). So Dick told me that I didn't know what the hell I was talking about, that I didn't know football. Part of me got angry. But part of me realized this guy was a tool, a tool that needed to be put in his place.
So I looked at him and said in a very belligerent and stone-faced way that Brett Favre wasn't half the quarterback that Bernie Kosar was. Now, if you know anything about Bernie Kosar, it's that he was NOT a great quarterback. He's best known for being a very immobile quarterback for the Cleveland Browns who might have cost them the chance at going to the Super Bowl. He was beloved in Cleveland (as I understand it), but everyone else thought he was a bit of a loser. He did win a national championship with Miami (the University, not the Dolphins) though. And so my argument was that Bernie Kosar was a better quarterback than Brett Favre because he won a national championship and Brett Favre didn't. Dick was apoplectic.
He kept yelling at me that I didn't know football, that I was an idiot. I couldn't argue against the idiot claim (since that's exactly what I was aiming for). So instead, I kept insisting that Bernie Kosar was better than Brett Favre. I pulled out statistics like the "fact" that Bernie Kosar had a better winning percentage. I don't know if it's actually true (because I made it up), but it doesn't matter. I was just trying to push Dick's buttons. And it worked like a charm. Dick ended up in an argument with someone who was arguing complete nonsense, but he couldn't resist pointing out that I was wrong. And that just made me argue more blatantly wrong points with false statistics. If Dick would have just shut up and ignored me, the whole thing would have blown over. But instead, he had to prove that he knew more about football than everyone else. And so he had to argue with the biggest "moron" at the party. And that's what I love about people like Dick. By arguing with people like me, instead of showing how "knowledgable" they are, they show what assholes they are.
What made the whole argument better was that I was surrounded by my friends, who all knew the shenanigans I was pulling. They were laughing their asses off, which made it very difficult (in fact impossible) for me to keep a straight face. And so after about 5 minutes of me trying to convince him that Bernie Kosar would have led the Packers to more Super Bowl wins that Brett Favre, Dick realized that I was just fucking with him. It probably didn't help that I was now trying to convince him that Billy Joe Hobert was better than Favre. Still, those 5 minutes of antagonizing this Dick made the whole night wonderful.
