learning about sports

a young child assaulting a motionless object

this is the log of an interview i conducted with an acquaintance of mine he is a t-ball coach/referee and i realized upon learning that about him that i basically know shit about t-ball so in an attempt to enlighten myself as well as springwells readers i asked him a couple of questions about it:

mh: what initially attracted you to t-ball?

jb: oh, well the fun qualities of the game, i get to watch some pretty hilarious incidents on the ballfield and i get community service for it

mh: can you give an example of a specific hilarious instance?

jb: ok well, there was a time, a couple weeks ago, that a kid would not stop running around the bases, eventually passing the lead runner (which is a big no-no in this sport) and i literally had to pick him up and place him back on 1st bas to get him to stop running

mh: what do you find most frustrating?

jb: the kids have ultra-short attention spans, and this makes teaching difficult

I have to split my time between many activities to keep them engaged and am not able to focus on the key points as much as i would like

AND they constantly have to go to the restroom

it's insane

mh: are there any stereotypes about t-ball which you think are true (or false?)

jb: most are true

for example, many people think the kids are very out-of-touch with what goes on in the game

I will refer to a popular joke

a kid was running around the bases but when he rounded third he was confused because he heard his coach screaming "stay at third!!" and his mother screaming "Johnny you come home right this instant"

obviously the kid didnt get the difference between "home" as in his house and home as in the plate

mh: how important is t-ball to your self-image?

jb: well, I would say very important insofar as

1. it reinforces my image among my peers as a giving, caring individual

2. it is also crucial to my self-esteem because i am very competitive

and coaching a successful game makes me feel successful

and thats about it :0

mh: does t-ball play as big a role in your life as school? friends? god?

jb: definitely not, though that would be very funny

mh: thank you for your time

***

ironically i still don't know anything about t-ball....,

maybe i should have asked different questions

a sickening snippet

4:58:52 PM arseniy: brb pewp,

Changed status to Away: Away (5:01:54 PM)

Changed status to Online (5:02:57 PM)

5:03:02 PM arseniy: oh wow dude

5:03:07 PM arseniy: that was so good

5:03:21 PM arseniy: omg and it smelled

5:03:32 PM arseniy: good

5:03:36 PM mh: dude,,

what the fuck is this

props to my bro-dawg michael davis for bringing this travesty to my attention

this device has a small coiled spring attached to a body that rapidly rotates and vibrates the spring and the purpose of it is to froth the foam on a latte

even more despicable is the stand though, the stand is shipped with the unit itself so that the spring doesn't get scratched or nicked when you put it down on the hard marble surface of yr kitchen counter laboriously polished to a high sheen by yr impoverished housekeepers

srsly can someone explain to me why the shit this exists

an inexplicable custom

why do we name babies before they're born (or moments after they're born whatever) it makes no sense

a name is supposed to be a reflection of one's identity, a unique abstraction designed to encapsulate the totality of the bearer's ontology, therefore it is incredibly arbitrary to name a child or any other element before it has even been brought into the world

for instance native american tribes name their children after the first things they see or something equivalently retarded, so if you are born to a lakota tribe or some shit and the chief sees a 'cautious deer' and you end up growing up as an aggressive bully then for the rest of your existence your life shall be wrought with existential dissonance because your 'label' is not an accurate reflection of 'you' furthermore it will seem as if you are at fault for not matching your name instead of the fault being at the hands of whoever the myopic shit-for-brains who named you was so in this sense it seems as if it is an easily arguable proposition that pre-birth or at-birth names are 'deterministic' in a way because they create a mold into which the individual must fit lest they be burdened with the anguish of life

that or they will represent irony personified

a far better norm by which to abide would be one that sets the naming procedure to one that shields the notion of naming a child after a significant amount of time has elapsed since birth from the notion that such a notion would be socially unacceptable or for some reason philosophically repugnant. so if after like three years it turns out that yr infant sneezes a lot you could call him "sneezy" and all will peacefully coexist in monikerial harmony

this begs the question of what to call the person until the time is right to name him or her

i can imagine the question now casually strolling down the street y'know minding her business and all returning to work from her lunch break (i will personify it as female as to me it seems that if i am going to personify sentences then questions are more feminine whereas declarative sentences are masculine (i am not trying to be gender normative or anything that's just what i feel (ha ha just kidding the questions are girls because in real life girls are stupid and ask a lot of questions and the declarative sentences are guys because the guys answer the questions that the girls ask with unshakeable confidence and commanding authority)))

the question is smart, fashionable, young, on her way to a bright future, certainly won't let anything get in the way of her goals or ambitions, she's headed back to her work building with a stride in her step, her gaze inexorably fixed on the horizon, nothing can stop her now, oh fuck look a homeless dude, (the homeless dude represents this blog post,) this homeless dude is sick, poor, and starved, starved for food and attention

so this homeless guy, weakly hobbles towards her, his step ataxic, a glimmer of madness in his eyes, madness brought on by hunger,

he gets up real close to her face, she is somewhat off-put, since she was doing such a great job of walking back to her destination with such singular focus, it looked pretty bad-ass

he goes up to her and starts begging, begging for money or food or shelter

he is begging her

he is begging the question

help

do you hear that?

that is the sound of the trumpets of triumph

the magnificent bells of victory

the celebration guns, whose shots are clean, straight and true

the marching band of the ages, parading through the streets of the internet, heralding the arrival of their one and only king

a king timeless, wise, and just in rule

a king possessing comedic wit sharper than that of the tooth of a shark (sharks have p. sharp teeth in case you didn't know)

a king bearing a visage more handsome than that of any given handsome fellow

that man is of course me,

to you it may seem as if i have been gone a mere nine days but this is in fact not the case actually the truth behind my absence may 'blow yr mind' so get ready for this

i took a vacation... to the future, yes i was really gone for nine years not days so let me tell you a bit about my visit

the first thing you should know about the future is that the pyramids of giza are upside down, when i first read the newspaper in the future (called "the fututarian") i saw a picture of them and asked the nearest stranger why the hell the pyramids were upside down, her answer was (will be, i guess?) that they were always upside down. as soon as i heard her say this i panicked a little and thought that i had landed myself in an orwellian dystopia

i mean for all i know they tortured and brainwashed me and put me in a cell and i am deluding myself out of my horrible existence by pretending to write blog posts in the past

oh my god am i still in the future i don't remember returning to the past, er, the present

fuck

bottom feeding with boris

it is my pleasure to introduce my friend boris the rushan, he is a genetically enhanced chess/piano/poker prodigy straight from the motherland, also he is rumored to have connections with the mafia so you better not cross paths with him,

he has graciously written the first installment of springwells's clairvoyant.criticism articles, which will provide clairvoyant criticism on high society such as arts, culture, literature, etc,

with that i present this article,

bottom feeding with boris

this week i reviewed the Krusty Krab restaurant, the local burger joint that's second to none. or should i say second to "run" since this critic wanted to make like a banana and peel out the minute he saw how drab this Krab really was

Q: that bad, huh?

once i stuck my beak through that door, my appetite flew south for the winter. i mean, i'm not "kidding" when i say this restaurant smells like the rear-end of a goat.

Q: and how was the service, boris?

you could find livelier help in a graveyard and I'm not just "coffin." the management stunk so bad, I had to get my sweater dry cleaned on the way home with me in it.

however, at the end of my visit, i chowed down on a meal that titillated my taste buds and gratified my gullet. that sponge behind the grill is no square when it comes to cooking! if Krabs really wanted to soak up the dough, he's sponge it up. he'd sponge it out, he'd over-sponge it. you can never have too much sponge.