“I was trying to help her up and she fell on her leg.”

~

Of course she did, dear.

And so it goes: another pro athlete arrested for stupid behavior that threatens an otherwise entitled and charmed life. Some people can’t see how fortunate they are. The man is blessed with tackling talent that eventually gives him an embarrassment of riches. After retirement from the NFL, he is paid handsomely to hang around the sidelines and give his opinion on stuff. Difficult job.

It’s a cruel statement, “You can take the boy out of the ghetto, but you can’t take the ghetto out of the boy.” Yet it’s been proven over and over again in pro sports — especially the NBA and NFL. Fortunately, these jokers seem to be in the minority; most pro athletes make it through their careers without spending a single night in jail. Imagine that.

And then there’s the ubiquitous shirking of any blame whatsoever. Why do they do this so consistently? Because they get away with it so frequently. Why take the blame when you can successfully point the finger at someone or something else? Sapp will plead innocent, even if they send him to jail (which they won’t). It’s *always* somebody else’s fault. And even though the truth — either hard or circumstantial — will stare the judges right in the face, they will slap little Warren with an earth-shattering punishment by fining him and sending him back to his “job” on the NFL network for seven figures, so, you know, we can repeat this scenario in five years or so and go through the same process with the same result.

And the sad part is, it’s not limited to pro sports. But don’t get me started on that. I’m actually in a good mood today.

That’s my name for today.

Fink….quit whining.

OK.

*kicking stuff*

I am ON about hate the last 12 hours, lemmetellya. I don’t know why. I just feel all itchy scratchy, and I can’t nail down the reason. Blark. I don’t usually sulk about things, and I’m not predisposed to bouts of rage, but I feel a slow, subterranean stirring of volcanic activity starting to build up steam. It could be deadly. (Or it could be Dinner Theatre.)

So why is the Fink hatin’ on things? I know not. Yet I still offer the list.

Still More Things I Hate (in addition to these and these)

1. That American Idol is one of the top-rated shows in America.
2. Bossy, controlling personalities, shielded behind the paper-thin veil of wanting to be “helpful.”
3. Being told to “relax,” or to “calm down.” I mean it. I will roll you up and smoke you like an old Laredo.
4. Not knowing.
5. Knowing, but not being able to do anything about it.
6. Politics, and the discussion of same at social gatherings, because A) it always seems to turn into a fight, which automatically ruins any magic, and B) minds are rarely changed.
7. That 5 a.m. turns to 6 a.m. so quickly every day.
8. My infuriating proclivity for procrastination where choreography is concerned.
9. My infuriating proclivity for freaking out before a freakout is warranted.
10. My infuriating proclivities in general.

Sounds to me like you’re due for a list yourself, if for no other reason than you pity me, and misery loves company. And I know that my life is great and I have a fantastic family and I love my job and my students and I am blessed with amazing fiends. But…yeah. We all got our days.

Glurge.

FO

That’s what my dad used to say when he’d had enough of someone’s yammering on about something. And that’s what I say this morning.

Seems some people are braying like donkeys about Jasper Schuringa (the guy who saved a bunch of collective hind-ends on that Northwest flight from Amsterdam to Detroit on Christmas Day) wanting compensation for his interviews on the news networks.

Oh, get off it.

Pot-and-kettle-ism. Do the networks not cash in on freely-gotten news, and do the anchors not get paid handsomely for reading it off a Teleprompter? Why should Schuringa not get his for talking about the time he saved 300+ people from meeting their maker (a service for which, by the way, he does not seem to be charging the other passengers)? FOX, CNN, the Big 3…just shut up and pay up. He deserves it, fuh cripesake.

What they really should focus on is the fact that Abdulmutallab ever got on a plane in the first place with a bomb in his skivvies.

==============

Then some idiot stick tells Demi Moore she looks old. HAA. What I wouldn’t give to look that old, right? Although I will go to the mat against her denials of ever having plastic surgery. I mean, I remember watching her every day on General Hospital back in the early 80s, and she didn’t look as good at 23 as she does now at 47. Oh, get off it. Who cares, and why hide it? Sure, it’s nobody’s business, but not everyone is a dumb sheep. It’s nothing to be ashamed or secretive of, if for no other reason than people will be able to tell you’ve had something done. If/when the time comes, blepharoplasty is definitely in my future, and I won’t bat my baby grays at people who obviously know I’ve had a procedure as if I have no earthly clue what they could possibly be thinking.

My mother always said, “Ladies don’t tell their age.” I can agree with that to an extent; I don’t shout it from the mountaintops. But there is an explicit strangeness — a quiet taboo on that subject — in the education world. *gasp* Don’t tell your kids how old you are!!! Whatev. My students know I have a 29-year-old son and two grandchildren. Why should my age be such a mystery? I am who and what I am. I think I have my students’ respect; I don’t think I’ll lose it if they know I’m 50.

==============

I have no choreography done. But at least I get to spend some time with Jake & Justin this morning. A good day for sure.

Happy Tuesday, fiends.

And no, contrary to what some might think, I’m not talking about Bye Bye Birdie, which, in fact, is going to be a fine show. (Way to start my day: pizzed off.)

Rather, I’m talking about professional sports in Cleveland. This article is disturbing. Yet another house-cleaning seems imminent for the Browns. I’m no doom-and-gloom Bratty McSourpuss (like SOME PEOPLE), but it seems that we’re on a collision course with another dismal waste of draft picks. How many do we get this time, eleven? Wonder how many will leave fans scratching and shaking their heads.

And so what if the Cavs are clinging to first place? Delonte West is doing his best to divert attention to his felonious behavior. A pro athlete in trouble with the law again. Who knew? Seriously, who needs to carry a gun and a 9-inch Bowie knife in his car? From which planet do these people come?

[this section of rant deleted in the interest of the common good] I’m fixin’ to cuss: Geezly Crow!

And so, what was going to be an excited, forward-looking post to opening night tonight has degenerated into so much acrimonious spew. Nice.

I think I need to retire. Or at least go get more coffee.

Fink, straightening skirt and hair