He’s “That” Guy

.

He sat there, looking miserable and judging everyone at the table.   He rolled his eyes and sighed when someone said something that he didn’t deem to be funny.      He made rude comments under his breath and looked out the window, giving us the back of his head as some unspoken demonstration of his boredom.   He was obviously having the worst time at this gathering of friends and aquaintances for tan engagement party, but he wouldn’t leave and could have left at any time.  

So, why didn’t he?  

Because he’s that guy who can’t be happy unless he’s miserable.   You know him and trust me,  to know him is to dislike him….a lot.   

He made a crass comment about someone’s weight.   It was rude and unwarranted.     What an absolutely lousy human being.

He is name is Bob and he came with Ellen, a former colleague of mine.   She’s known  his petulent ass for a while and told me a great deal about him, so knowing what I know about him, I couldn’t understand why he’d sit there in a social setting and be so rude.     Trust me, he has no room to talk.

Shall I share what I’ve learned about this man? 

Okay, Ellen told me that Bob is that guy who orders literally.    At Wendy’s he doesn’t ask the guy behind the counter for a cheeseburger.   Oh no, he makes it far more irritiating.   He orders  “a Wendy’s Hot and Juicy single with cheese”.

He gave his twin daughters the monickers of Brie and Brita.   One is named after soft cheese;  the other is can trace her ’handle’  back to a water filter.

He’s a mouth breather.   

He’s that guy who calls jeans dungarees.

He often says when thirsty, that he’s in the mood “for a refreshing beverage”.

He wears short sleeve dress shirts even in the winter.

He owns one pair of shoes;  black atheltic-looking lace-ups  and he wears them regardless of the occasion.

And with brown suits. 

He leaves his ice tea spoon in his glass when he drinks from it, holding it aside with his fingers as opposed to removing it.

He refers to the “Show Me State” as Missoura–with an “A” at the end.   He sounds out the “S” in Illinois, too.

His response to bad news when it’s conveyed to him,  “Well, it could be worse.  You could have AIDS.”

♦

For some unholy reason, Ellen will be marrying “that guy” Bob in a lavish wedding next month.  

Love is strange.    The heart and the mind must see two different versions of the same person.   I suppose all the platitudes apply– the heart loves who the heart loves and to each his own.   Who’s to say? 

Even so, I give them two years.  

Two and a half if she’s lucky enough to lapse into a coma.

.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mark McGwire Finally Fesses Up to “Juicing”

< span style=”color:#ffffff;”>.

Yeah he admitted it, but is this really news to anyone?     

Insiders knew McGwire  used steroids off and on during most of the 90′s–including 1998 which was the year he surpassed Roger Maris’ home run record.   The media hinted at it.  Fans surmised as much.

In a flurry of tears and sobs, McGwire confessed all to an Associated Press reporter this past Monday.    He admitted that he began using steroids  between the 1989 and 1990 seasons, after helping the Oakland Athletics to a World Series sweep when he and Jose Canseco were known as “The Bash Brothers”.    He got back on the stuff after the 1993 season, when he missed all but 27 games with a mysterious heel injury.  He claims he was told that taking steroids might s hasten his recovery.

McGwire claims he ONLY did it for health purposes;  NOT for any type of strength purposes.

Yeah right.   Uh-huh.  Sure  and the check is in the mail.

I wonder how much of that record-breaking single home run season McGwire contributed to his “health”.   He now regrets that he ever used them.

A few years ago when steroid use was the subject du jour on Capital Hill,  he all but lied before a Congressional panel regarding his use of steroids.   He testified that he didn’t come to DC to talk about the past.  That was an interesting admission.  He essentially said in one breath, ”Yes I did, but no I didn’t”.    It fooled no one.

But maybe…. just maybe  MLB looked the other way—for a while, anyway.   When Sammy Sosa and McGwire were racing to beat Maris’ record back in ’98, revenues went through the roof.    Baseball was front page news once again.   America’s past time had gotten a shot in the arm–so to speak.     TV ratings were, too.   Sales of merchandise from jerseys to foam fingers soared. 

But the problem became so widespread that it couldn’t be overlooked anymore. 

Even so, there are those out there who say this is much ado about nothing.  I’ve heard arguments from some avid baseball fans that steroid use actually did wonders for the game in terms of it being a spectator sport.   Because of steroids’ performance enhancing  properties, those watching in the stands and at home got far more bang for their buck.  They were able to see more home runs that went farther ever faster.    They got to see balls thrown at speeds so fast,  virtual contrails formed behind them as they crossed home plate.    

These same fans who see nothing wrong with juicing will say there’s no difference between shooting up a little Amdro in  Barry Bonds’ butt or your average beauty queen with silicone swimming in both of her surgically engorged boobs.  

I disagree.  

Boob implants will not affect a beauty queen’s responses in the Question and Answer portion of the pageant.   Her ability to assess the issues comprising her regal platform including  the promotion of world peace, eliminating global hunger and that “U.S. Americans are unable to do so with Osama people out there who don’t have maps such as in South America and the Iraq, such as” will not be affected at all.

Uh, on second thought….

Seriously folks, steroids build muscles and in muscles we find strength and it is with strength that Mark McGwire hit 63 record-setting home runs in a single season.   It was manufactured strength; ostensibly processed in a few beakers in some Bay Area lab and not acheived through grit,  sweat and effort and no, I DO NOT consider the clinching of butt cheeks at the moment the hypodermic needle breaks the skin to be  considered “effort” of any kind.

I think he should forfeit his MLB record for the most single season home runs.   Some would argue that McGwire surpassed the record–no matter how he went about doing it.  

Well yes he did, BUT  HE DID IT WITH THE HELP OF PERFORMANCE ENHANCING DRUGS!!!!!   Am I all alone here?   This is just patently wrong in my opinion.  It’s cheating and completely wrong…wrong…WRONG!!!

Roger Maris had his faults as a flawed mortal man sure,  but at least he initially set the home run record on his own accord.  He did it the old-fashioned way—probably while hung over,  AFTER drinking  Scotch, Gin and a steady ingestion of Mickeys (the bitter pill that is the resentment of a team-mate considered more popular with the fans and adored by a hero worshipping media).

As far as I’m concerned, Maris’ record  of 61 *  (frequently (and incorrectly) marked with an asterisk because he broke Babe Ruth’s home run record while playing a longer schedule…162 games as opposed to Ruth’s 154 game season) still stands.

McGwire has become his own asterisk.  

‘