A curse

I listen to ESPN Radio's Fantasy Focus podcasts during baseball and football seasons, just to pick up advice regarding my fantasy teams.  Recently, Nate Ravitz and Matthew Berry have returned to talk about baseball, and in the most recent podcast on February 9, 2010, a listener named Lucas cursed Nate with the following:
"I wish mediocre to sub-par things upon you in all your future endeavors."
Personally, I love this level of curse, as it seems entirely possible to occur.  I shall make an effort to use this whenever appropriate from this point on.  It will probably result in less rancor than my current curse from The Adventures of Buckaroo Bonzai in the 8th Dimension:
Lord John Worfin:  "Sealed with a curse as sharp as a knife. Doomed is your soul and damned is your life."

Excerpt from Drew Magary's column on Deadspin

I was reading Drew Magary's column on Deadspin at a local restaurant, and had to stop several times and actually tear my eyes away from the print before me when I tried to read this portion of the article, due to uncontrollable laughter.  That probably indicates that something is seriously wrong with how my humor center in my brain is wired, but here it is for you to decide.  Be forewarned, this is not for the scatalogically challenged.


"Jake sends in a story I call LOOK WHO'S POOPING:

My kid was about 1 or 1 1/2 when he started going through a poop phase. He was obsessed with poop. He would insist on looking at a shitty diaper after he destroyed it, with a "yeah that's right, say my name, bitch!" look on his face. He would talk about it all the time in public ("Daddy I have a HUGE LOAD in my pants"). He would barge into the bathroom when I was dropping anchor and insist on taking a look at my craftwork. He even went through a period where he would stick his finger in his ass and then put it in his mouth and say "it's yummy" (by the way this was super fucked up and scarred me for life).
So one day, just after breakfast, he drops a load and my wife goes to change him. She lays him back on the changing table, takes his shitty diaper off, wraps it up, and turns to put it in the diaper genie. She looks away and then turns back, leaning over him to coo or sing or make goo goo noises or whatever chicks do. What she did not realize was that the little fecophile had stuck his hand down into his ass while she was looking away and now had what could best be described as a shit mitten. So she is singing away and he reaches up and fish hooks her with the shit mitten. Just jams his hand in her mouth and yanks down on her jaw, scraping poo off his hand with her teeth (ever eat an artichoke?). It took a second or two for her to realize he had shit all over his hands...and that she, therefore, now had a mouthful of baby shit. She gagged and was so disgusted that she promptly VOMITED ON THE BABY and started crying hysterically, which of course made the baby start crying. I heard the commotion and by the time I walked in, they were both screaming and crying, covered in regurgitated Special K and poo. My wife ran over to the bathroom and I actually saw her SPIT POO in the sink (definitely NOT a turn on). Meanwhile, the baby quickly went from crying to laughing, looks up at me innocently and says "Daddy, I'm POOOPY!" Roger that.

That reminds me of a story my wife once told me. When she worked in an office, she had a co-worker named Mike (not his real name). One time, Mike brought his three-year-old to work with him, to show her his desk and all that. Anyway, the kid has to go to the bathroom, so Mike takes her and she goes and does her thing. Then, she comes out of the stall and says to Mike, HEY DADDY, GUESS WHAT? Mike says, "What?" And the kid takes her finger, smeared in poop, and drags it across his upper lip. No lie. A Dirty Sanchez from your own kid. KIDS ARE FUCKING EVIL."

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