I was off today, so I slept late and wrapped Christmas presents this afternoon. I am horrible at it. When I’m done, it always looks like a 3rd grader did it.
Maybe I need to hang out at a playground and lure some unsuspecting 3rd grader to wrap for me. Hey kid… I have Kit Kats… wanna wrap a bit?
Luckily my family is used to my gift-wrapping being an epic fail.
Epic Fail fail fail fail…
EPIC. FAIL…
OK, why are those words resonating with me? It’s like there was some tragedy lurking just past my consciousness that I just can’t reel in. Hmmm…
So then, this afternoon, I nipped up to the post office to mail the package to my parents. What a treat. There were about 9 people in front of me and 3 clerks working, so there shouldn’t have been much of a wait. Shouldn’t have been.
I don’t know where the mutants in front of me came from, but it’s like they’ve never shipped anything before.
“Insurance? How much is that? Does it come with Express Shipping? How about Priority Shipping? What’s the difference between Express and Priority? How much is it for online tracking? If I send my package from Baltimore by Priority mail and my friend leaves the west coast on the Expressway, how much would their car insurance be if I tracked it online? What? No I haven’t filled any forms out, so let me do it right here at the counter. That giant line of people behind me won’t mind…”
That’s when I leapt to the front of the line, grabbed the Priority Mail packing tape and spun the tape around this idiot’s mouth and then jammed him down the package chute. I believe I got my first standing ovation ever, for disposing of that loser…
Loser loser loser…
LOSER-ER-ER.
What the hell is that? What’s with that sense of disgust and revulsion I feel deep inside? What loser? Man, I got to cut back on the heroin in my Diet Coke.
Onward… I’m glad so many of you enjoyed the tales from our football road trips to Cleveland. It was always a great time getting together as the Pittsburgh Steelers played the Cleveland Browns.
The Cleveland Browns. Browns Browns…
THE CLEVELAND BROWNS!
STEELERS… BROWNS…
EPIC FAIL!
LOSERS!!
Oh my God, there was a game last night… and… and… THE STEELERS LOST TO THE GOD DAMNED CLEVELAND BROWNS.
I’m seeing it all now…
Sack after sack after sack…
And not even because Ben held it too long… the Browns were coming like the giant bugs in Starship Troopers.
I see running for 4 yards. I see running for 5 yards. I see… what? Passing on 3rd and 1 and getting sacked?? Who does that? Why would anyone pass on 3rd and 1 when you’re ripping off chunks of yards on the ground?
I see Ben’s passes clanking off receiver’s hands. I see throws getting pegged into the dirt. I see a defense that can’t stop that Cribbs around left end. Why can’t anyone tackle that guy? Everyone knows where he’s going…
I tried everything in my power. I tried a whole new set of mojo apparel.
I went with a Jack Lambert classic jersey pullover. None of my usual lower-wear was working so I went back to what worked during last year’s stretch run… the AC/DC jammie pants. I also put away the Steelers socks I’ve worn for every game during the last 3 years.
When Cribbs returned that punt back to the 9, I realized I hadn’t grabbed my Terrible Towel yet. I put it over my right leg as usual. No better. I put it over my lap. Nothing.
I even tried moving the Terrible Gnome from the base of the TV to the coffee table. No dice. Nothing worked. The Steelers continued to suck.
I see a last second drive, inside a stadium that’s half empty. Where’d the Browns fans go, now during what could be their finest hour?
But surely Ben would pull it out? Ben, who has never lost to the Browns, ever, would never allow this kind of fail.
8th sack of the game, by the 32nd ranked defense in a 32-team league.
Third and 19… OK, they got 13. Surely they’ll convert 4th and 6… right? They won’t actually LOSE to these clowns, can they?
Ben drops back… passes… hits the guy right in the chest… the Browns guy.
What could go wrong with that?
Epic Fail fail fail fail…
EPIC. FAIL…
OK, why are those words resonating with me? It’s like there was some tragedy lurking just past my consciousness that I just can’t reel in. Hmmm…
So then, this afternoon, I nipped up to the post office to mail the package to my parents. What a treat. There were about 9 people in front of me and 3 clerks working, so there shouldn’t have been much of a wait. Shouldn’t have been.
I don’t know where the mutants in front of me came from, but it’s like they’ve never shipped anything before.
“Insurance? How much is that? Does it come with Express Shipping? How about Priority Shipping? What’s the difference between Express and Priority? How much is it for online tracking? If I send my package from Baltimore by Priority mail and my friend leaves the west coast on the Expressway, how much would their car insurance be if I tracked it online? What? No I haven’t filled any forms out, so let me do it right here at the counter. That giant line of people behind me won’t mind…”
That’s when I leapt to the front of the line, grabbed the Priority Mail packing tape and spun the tape around this idiot’s mouth and then jammed him down the package chute. I believe I got my first standing ovation ever, for disposing of that loser…
Loser loser loser…
LOSER-ER-ER.
What the hell is that? What’s with that sense of disgust and revulsion I feel deep inside? What loser? Man, I got to cut back on the heroin in my Diet Coke.
Onward… I’m glad so many of you enjoyed the tales from our football road trips to Cleveland. It was always a great time getting together as the Pittsburgh Steelers played the Cleveland Browns.
The Cleveland Browns. Browns Browns…
THE CLEVELAND BROWNS!
STEELERS… BROWNS…
EPIC FAIL!
LOSERS!!
Oh my God, there was a game last night… and… and… THE STEELERS LOST TO THE GOD DAMNED CLEVELAND BROWNS.
Sack after sack after sack…
And not even because Ben held it too long… the Browns were coming like the giant bugs in Starship Troopers.
I see Ben’s passes clanking off receiver’s hands. I see throws getting pegged into the dirt. I see a defense that can’t stop that Cribbs around left end. Why can’t anyone tackle that guy? Everyone knows where he’s going…
I tried everything in my power. I tried a whole new set of mojo apparel.
When Cribbs returned that punt back to the 9, I realized I hadn’t grabbed my Terrible Towel yet. I put it over my right leg as usual. No better. I put it over my lap. Nothing.
I even tried moving the Terrible Gnome from the base of the TV to the coffee table. No dice. Nothing worked. The Steelers continued to suck.
But surely Ben would pull it out? Ben, who has never lost to the Browns, ever, would never allow this kind of fail.
8th sack of the game, by the 32nd ranked defense in a 32-team league.
Third and 19… OK, they got 13. Surely they’ll convert 4th and 6… right? They won’t actually LOSE to these clowns, can they?
Ben drops back… passes… hits the guy right in the chest… the Browns guy.
Was that a package or a hostage?
ReplyDeleteEagle fans were not very kind to me today. No sir. Not very kind at all.
ReplyDeleteCarpetbagger:
ReplyDeleteActually, that looked nicer than the ones I did.
FAN:
When, exactly, are the Eagles fans kind to anyone?
Your duct taped package looks sturdy. You could have used some on the post office fool. I once stood behind a little olde Asian man trying to send what looked like a base fiddle wrapped only in brown paper. To Viet Nam. The clerk could not convince him that he needed a box. He left sadly shaking his head
ReplyDeleteas did all of us fans on Monday night. We need more than a box to send this instrument.
Rather than a bass fiddle, it was probably his grandmother.
ReplyDelete"But box no have air hole!"
Your story about wrapping gifts was hysterical! I just finished mine and they look very similar to yours. It's not a gender thing.
ReplyDeleteThe Steelers? We think there is dissent in the locker room. Also, my husband pointed out that this is no longer a young team. He thinks it may take years and some good draft picks (bottom-feeders get those) to climb back up. Woe are we.
I don't know about the locker room, but I know they're getting old. Ed Bouchette had a good article in the PG this morning spelling out how the core of the team is hitting their mid-30's, with precious little youth behind it.
ReplyDeleteMight make for some lean years to come.
I'm thinking it's the wrapping paper you chose, too that makes it look almost 3rd graderish. But I'm glad that you're secure in your manhood to choose such an AWESOME bit of wrapping paper!!!
ReplyDeleteCassie:
ReplyDeleteOK, I should have mentioned, that's just a pic I found online, under "badly wrapped packages". I'd already packed up what I wrapped myself, into a shipping box before I decided I needed a picture. My wrapping paper was much more tasteful looking, at least before it got bent and badly folded around some gifts and taped up like a blind window painter would do.