I am not proud of this moment of weakness and would like to blame it on the euphoric feeling I was experiencing after reading a captivating and thought provoking article by my favorite writer. He dazzled me with his expertise of football, amazed me with his knowledge of statistics, and delighted me with his use of the English language...He of course is me.
I stood from my desk secure in the knowledge that at any moment the Pulitzer Prize people would be calling. I headed for the coffee pot—I needed more legal stimulant. I was preparing to churn out another articulate article on the finer points of why Rich Rodriguez is now dead to me.
That's when it happened. I was in the kitchen but close enough to the living room to hear those magical words on the television—"Jessica Simpson." I glanced over just in time to see the ultimate dumb blonde shimmy her upper torso in a way that would make any exotic dancer proud. I am guessing here because, as far as my wife and girlfriend know, I have never seen a dancer, exotic or otherwise.
I moved closer for a better look and it happened!
I was watching "ESPN First Take."
It was too late as I quickly turned away. Brain cells were falling as I retreated to my office. The voices of Jay, Dana, and someone named Skip were chasing me and I couldn't out run sound. These people have names that sound like "Little Rascals" instead of sports commentators. They are pure evil. Their ability to misjudge and over analyze the simplest aspects of sports were haunting me as I sought audio cover.
I was truly scared!
I was frightened their idiotic view of sports would cost more brain cells than I can spare. I was having flash backs from when "Cold Pizza' once caught me by surprise when I thought it was a cooking show.
Then it hit me!
It was not my fault.
These are the same evil morons who tried to kill sports under the name of my favorite breakfast food. The devil may prefer Lucifer but he is still the devil.
Yes I am a sinner. I confess willingly. I will repent. I was in a prideful and weak moment and my ego gave these vessels of stupidity a doorway in which to enter.
I promise to all that read this, both of you, that I will not leave the channel turned to ESPN again while not in the room. I will be more careful in my pursuit of glimpsing blondes. I will beg that you forgive me, for I am just a man.
I will do community service to atone my sin.
Does 40 hours at Bob's House of Buxom Blondes, applying glitter to wayward women sound fair to you?