Good Thing I Didn’t…

So the Rapture turned out to be nothing more than a ruse for Jesus to pick my pocket and all the preparation I was making made about as much sense as an anorexic at a buffet. 

The wily old prognosticator had us all fooled.  And while Harold Camping’s prophesy proved to be more fodder for the Twitterverse and late night talk shows, there were still plenty of people (lemmings) that prescribed to the notion that the world was coming to an end last Saturday.

I even joined in the fun by blogging about my fictitious last 24 hours pre-Jesus and my travels to various locations within Texas and Oklahoma to give the sports powers that be some final thoughts.  Those would have been good times but in reality, there was no way I was going to get close enough to them let alone be able to afford the gas and airfare for the trip.

But there were some other things I had seriously considered doing.  A few of them might have been golden while others would have had me in prison until the next Rapture.  So all in all, I guess I made the right decision in regards to Camping’s vision.  And even though the Rapture didn’t come, I figured I would share with all of you, nonetheless, my list of things in no particular order I was really going to do on the last day before all hell broke loose.  Keep in mind these can still be used because the great prophet himself, Mr. Camping, has stated that the Rapture has now been moved to October 21^st of this year per God. 

Additionally Camping states that God will also destroy the Earth and melt the universe as well for good measure.  That is unless the NFL and the players resolve the labor dispute.  In that case it will take place immediately after the Super Bowl…unless there is another great run in the NBA Playoffs.  In that case, we’ll wait until October or by then Jesus may just acquiesce to the Mayans.   They’ve had their prediction filed the longest anyway.  

Anyway, here’s the list.  Enjoy!

Kill some people

I mean who hasn’t wanted to if they could get away with it, right?  We all have made a list and at some point we’ve all secretly wanted to be Dexter.  I mean that bum on the corner or the idiot in the turning lane going straight when you are trying desperately to get to Blockbuster with a few minutes to spare.  Or how about the hot chick that knows she looks good, knows you’re looking at her but won’t give you the time of day?  Yeah that chick.  Man so many people to do, so little time.

Hit a weasel with a bat  

I have always wanted to catch a weasel, stick it in a cage with a hole in it and pull its head through.  Then I would take a baseball bat and beat the living hell out of it to see if it made a popping sound.

Strangle a baby chimpanzee

Yeah they’re cute and all, but I want to know how cute it is when it’s gasping for air when I have it in a headlock.  Priceless!

Ruin Donovan Lewis’ life

 White people think all black people look alike anyway so this shouldn’t be hard.  I would have to do a little work first so I would grow a beard and tell everyone I use to work at The Zoo or KPLX or wherever he was.  Then I would take 500 grams of cocaine and head to an upscale strip club.  I would proceed to do copious amounts of coke on whores’ backs while yelling “I’m effing Donovan Lewis” at the top of my lungs while spitting in their hair.  I would then proceed to get pissy drunk, take a stripper at knifepoint , steal a car and drive wildly down I-35 while talking on the phone with whoever was on the Ticket Top 10 describing how I was going to end it all.  It would end in front of Lewis house as I ran in the front door and out the back and he was left to explain his actions.  That noon-to-three slot would be mine for the taking.  Brilliant!

Chase a Jehovah’s Witness with my car

The only thing more satisfying than slamming the door in the face of a Jehovah’s Witness is chasing one down in a car while they are on their bikes.  I would love to watch them flee for their lives not knowing if I was going to hit them or not.  After 10-15 minutes of pursuit, I would drive away only to reappear when they felt they were in the clear and sideswipe them.  Jehovah didn't witness that! Golden!

Steal shipment of cocaine from local kingpin

Hell why not.  I’m going to be living in hell on earth anyway, right?  So who cares if I jack 30 kilos and then send a note with my picture on it taking credit for what I did.  The kicker would be that I would sit in my bathroom and flush it all down the toilet while filming it for YouTube.  Well all of it except for the stuff I need to frame Donovan Lewis (see above).

Attend a clan rally

I’ve always wanted to know what these guys really did out in the country all by themselves.  It’s got to be hard as hell just hating all the time.  Eventually someone has to bring out some dominoes, Jinga, cards or something.  Maybe they have a talent show or a father son sack race or something.  Hell I don’t know.  Just seems like hating the blacks, Jews and Mexicans would get monotonous after a while.

Burn a cross in someone’s yard

Yeah the irony here is I would do it in one of my white neighbor’s lawns.  Then I would put a sign in it that would racially disparage them to cause utter confusion.  Something to the effect of “whites, go back to Africa.”

Join the Tea Party to t-bag

Yeah, I'm going to take it up a notch. 

Watch your grandmother take a bath

She was probably hot at one point and we know she wants it. 

Produce gay porn

You only live once right?  Besides, if we are all left behind then there’s no way I could do any worse than what I have already done to be left behind.

Star in gay porn

Wait a minute… I meant I was...never mind.

And finally…

Have police standoff at my house

I want to channel my inner Denzel and cause a standoff in my neighborhood.  While they were negotiating, I would get pissy drunk, snort the remaining coke and get on the roof proclaiming “King Kong ain’t got s#@t on me!”  Then I would fire randomly into neighboring homes until I was tased in the nuts by the cops and fell off the roof in slow motion like the great ape.

So as I said, I am glad I decided to use my better judgment and held off on some of these activities.  I mean, they would have been fun but sometimes its better to adhere to common sense as opposed to subscribing to an idiot.

One Last Thing

Here we are on the eve of the Rapture and there are so many things I have left to do.  I never got to kiss a super model or punch Glen Beck in the gonads.

I didn’t get a chance to go back to Dick’s Last Resort in San Antonio, a city that doubles as Armageddon’s ground zero on a good day.  I didn’t get my bike out of the shop and get the chance to ride to Burning Man in Nevada, eat some mushrooms and body paint my fat, naked body.

  All of these things would have taken considerable time and planning and, as I’m sure you are well aware of, we only have about 12 hours of normalcy before all hell breaks loose.  So with my last half day on earth, these are the things locally that I could do or if I actually believed this idiotic false prophet Harold Camping, I would do.

12 Hours TR (‘Till Rapture)

My first foray of deeds would involve a 30 minute plane ride to Austin, Texas to slap the hell out of Rick Perry.  There is no particular reason because there are too many reasons to list.  But if I had to pick one, it would be the disastrous way he is allowing our great state to lower itself to the same standards as the backwards, uneducated Podunk states south and east of Texas.  His used car salesman persona has worn thin on me and I would hope most Texans would agree with me if they took a real look at him.  While I was there, I would swing over to the UT campus and see if I could have a word with the coaching fraud that is Mack Brown.  If he would give me just five minutes, I would tell him why, in this life or the next, I will never forgive him for screwing Major Applewhite twice—once in favor of college football’s spare of the century Chris Simms and then by not naming him offensive coordinator.  Then it’s off to the airport for a quick flight up to Oklahoma.  Where Mark Cuban is I’m sure David Stern isn’t too far away.

8 hours TR

Once on the ground I’ll have to figure out a way to get next to the great and powerful Stern.  It’ll probably involve some sexual favors and sparklers, but I’m sure it will be worth it once I get in.  As I’m my clothes, I would ask the commish what he was thinking when he outlawed the hand check, took away the competitive balance and allowed the referees to become bigger stars than they should be.  I would also ask him why he hates Cubes and how he honestly felt during the 2006 Finals when Dewayne Wade, the Heat and three referees hosed the Mavs in 6 games.  I would want him to answer the conspiracy questions about the NBA Lottery and referees setting up games.  He could tell me.  After all, we’d only have a few hours left with civilization as we know it and everyone could collectively exclaim “I told you.”

While there, I would also ask Cubes to not dance for the remaining few hours we have.  In someway his moves are more disturbing than the impending doom.  I would stay to watch the game but that’s two hours into the Apocalypse and I still have a few things left to do.

6 Hours TR

Even though I could fly back and save a little time, I would head over to Hertz and rent a car for a nostalgic trip down I-35.  I would have to make a stop in Norman to relive my college years, inform Bob Stoops that he is only marginally better than Mack Brown and remind him he is the greatest choke artist in the history of OU football.  It wouldn’t be pretty but it would have to be done.  I’ve grown a little tired of getting my heart ripped out, January after January.  Then it’s on the road for a three hour drive to Dallas.

3 Hours TR

First stop back in D-town would have to be in Turtle Creek so I can have a sit down with old leather face, Jerry Jones.  I need to explain to him how I felt that for the past 15 years, my loyalty to the Cowboys has been betrayed and my trust squandered by his refusal to put a real football man in charge of the Cowboys.  Hell I would have settled for a decent succession of coaches that had a real input on the direction of the team.  Not a bunch of yes men who are only too happy to be the coach of America’s Team.

1½ Hours TR

After a bunch of psychobabble and an ear splitting mutilation of the English language from him, I’d head over to the home of Rangers owner Nolan Ryan and ask him why he gets all the credit for a team he has basically piggybacked on.  Actually, there is nothing to ask him.  I just think he is as over hyped an owner as they come and he allowed Greenberg to put everything in place and then pulled the rug out from under him.  And it’s easy to get the metroplex sheep to believe that he is some sports deity when he only played here five years and never took his Texas team to the playoffs, went to one Word Series and has the most walks, wild pitches and third most losses in league history.  Oh, I almost forgot.  That whole Robin Ventura thing; over-rated.

1 Hour TR

Then after I’ve expressed all my anger, I will finally head back home, not to spend it with family because I could care less.  I don’t need to get drunk or have one last sexual romp either.  No I’d much rather sit out at Lake Arlington with a cold one and watch the “Chosen Ones” ascend into heaven.  Then I have to get ready for the 7 year party that Camping said was coming after the Rapture. 

Hell yeah!

Is He Black Enough?

My, my, my, there are so many things to talk about in the world of sports this week. 

The Mavericks are going to the Western Conference Finals with arguably their best team in history.  The Rangers are seemingly making strides to right their steadily sinking ship.  The lockout in the NFL still looms and Chad Ochocino is about to get killed riding a bull.

The NBA Playoffs has let fans witness the changing of the guard from the Lakers, Celtics and Spurs to the Bulls, Heat and Grizzlies.  Baseball has been as unpredictable as ever as more winning teams from last season find themselves fighting out of the cellars of their divisions and dogs are somehow on top. 

The NCAA has finally faced reality and realizes they have to get tough and discipline every institution and every coach the same and is looking to institute new rules and guidelines to do just that.  Some, according to NCAA President Mark Emmert, should be in place by late June.

Like I mentioned, plenty of things to talk about but it all takes a back seat to what I feel will be the impending national conversation that is looming on the horizon. And the subject is about blackness.  I don’t really feel like going into what he said, but you can find it here.   

The question was raised by boxer Bernard Hopkins a few days ago in disgusting fashion regarding his ongoing animosity against NFL quarterback Donovan McNabb and the questioning of his has elicited wide condemnation throughout  the sports world.

It became the topic du jour on Outside the Lines on ESPN and I’m sure will be the subject on the Sports Reporters and other outlets not limited to sports in the coming days. 

I have always been a fan of Hopkins: thought he was one of the best fighters of my generation because he spoke his mind and never backed down from anyone.  He fought whoever was placed in his way and always expressed dignity after a good fight or a tough loss.  He was one of the last fighters that I would shell out big bucks for pay-per-view to watch regardless of the opponent because I knew the Executioner would always give the people what they wanted.

But now I have to back out of his corner.  For once I am hoping for a fight so one-sided against him that his brain is rattled back into reality and the mindless dribble he has been spewing against McNabb disappears into the recesses of his mind, permanently.  I am hoping that the ignorance he has tossed across the airwaves for people to pick at like an old sore comes back to bite him in such a way that if he does not issue an apology, it makes him stop his ridiculous attacks altogether.

I hope that he is vilified to the point that his business partners, be they white or black, come to him and issue an ultimatum that this kind of senseless vitriol has got to stop. 

But it will never happen.  Hopkins has been on McNabb’s case since his early days with the Eagles.  He has equated McNabb to an Uncle Tom for reasons he has never fully explained. 

One can only surmise it is because while Hopkins was raised poor, McNabb was raised in a well to do family.  While Hopkins was looking for his next meal, McNabb was sitting down to eat at a dinner table flush with food.  When Hopkins was out committing crimes as a youth without guidance, young Donovan was surrounded by friends, family and mentors that ensured he would stay on the right track.  And while Hopkins was languishing in prison, Donovan was going to school and increasing his draft stock in order to be selected by Hopkins’ team, the Eagles.

And when you get to the crux of the argument, you really see why Hopkins has such a problem with McNabb.  Hopkins is envious of him.  He grew up alone and underprivileged while his “rival” had everything in place to succeed in life.  Where Hopkins made bad choices, McNabb made good ones.  Where McNabb tends to like to air his grievances in private, Hopkins likes to put his on public display.

McNabb is the gentleman to Hopkins thuggish, brooding behavior and I applaud him for not lowering himself to the level of an idiot because he would never win.  Donovan has been what every parent, I’m sure including Hopkins, aspires for their kid regardless of race-successful, trustworthy and clean-cut.  He doesn’t fight, he takes care of his family and he is loyal to a fault.

He doesn’t call out his teammates and put the focus on himself like Terrell Owens.  Nor does he jeopardize an entire franchise with stupid and selfish actions like Michael Vick.  He is the guy you can count on and the guy you want in your corner when times get rough.  He is dependable and most of all he is a leader.  The leader we should all aspire to be and the guy we should gladly accept a role model.  It’s just too bad B-Hop can’t and won’t see it.  And now he’s just executed mine and a bunch of others’ support for him. 

Stay classy Hopkins.