Saturday, August 25, 2007
OK, you've been emailing and pelting rocks at me on the street because there's been nothing on my blog in some time. Truth be told, I'm waiting
for a root canal and I'm in intense amounts of pain. I'm thinking of youtubing the entire event, or in true youtube spirit, devising some contraption with a string tied to my aching tooth, and the other end
tied to a Chevy half-ton and just watch the aching little bastard tooth fly out of my mouth like
a scene in Jackass.
I recently returned from Toronto, where the weather is unbearable and the
air smells like a dysenteric leper. The food is awful, and if you try to
be friendly to people, they nervously start fondling their cell phones
as if you're some kind of crazed escape mental patient.
I have to say, I'm not a big fan of the city, but there are a few joys
like the Market, the Royal York, and of course, my girlfriend,
who is set to return to Moncton in 8 days.
Anyway, I know I'm going to piss off the bizarre animal-maternal
instincts that many of my readers have, but this entire Michael Vick
thing is just perplexing me.
Pro-athletes pop drugs and steroids like Pez, they beat up underage prostitutes,
and get all coked up and drive their beamers down the interstate in high speed
chases, and while they often suffer some slight legal consequences, the NFL,
doesn't really seem to care.
Now this Vick charecter, while obviously a full-fledged sadist who likes
to play WWE smackdown with his dogs on the weekend, and recreates
scenes from the inquisition with them afterwards, gets suspended
Now yes, I know, animals are helpless, and how we treat them is often
a reflection of society in general, but isn't the 14 year old prostitute's
life who gets used as a punching bag all night by some of these fellows
perhaps more important then Snoopy's scraped up face after a round of doggie
wrestling? When did human life take a back seat to the welfare of animals?
I don't like what Mr. Vick did, it turns my stomach, but if he
had picked up some crack whore in Vegas and made her fight a homeless
guy for a box of Saltines, I think he would still be playing football.
Ugh. I just don't understand. Maybe it's the Tylenol no 3.
Posted by Joe Leger at 11:26 AM