Charlie Hatton About This
About Me
Email Me

Bookmark
 FeedBurnerEmailTwitterFacebookAmazon
Charlie Hatton
Brookline, MA



All Quotes
HomeAboutArchiveBestShopEmail Howdy, friendly reading person!
I'm on a bit of a hiatus right now, but only to work on other projects -- one incredibly exciting example being the newly-released kids' science book series Things That Make You Go Yuck!
If you're a science and/or silliness fan, give it a gander! See you soon!

Third Turd’s a Charm

The very best part of my day today was this morning, when a lady in a lumbering Subaru made a rolling “stop” at the intersection I was pulling into, cutting me off, squelching my right-of-way, and nearly taking my front fender up her station wagon’s pooper.

I was not happy. I called her names. Loudly. And I was stuck behind the bitch, with no way around.

And that was the best part of my day. Not because the rest of the day was terrible. It wasn’t. It was actually quite pleasant — and all because of that Subaru-shuffling scoffstop. And two other random early-morning douchebags.

I’ll explain.

I’ve decided there’s a rule that only three assholes will bother you in any given day. They might be tiny, annoying assholes, like the Subaru lady. They might be huge and raging, and have tremendous consequences. Like if the Subaru lady had hit my car. And it exploded. And she was a grizzly bear.

“But seriously, who are we kidding? There are always assholes. “

(What? Grizzly bears can’t drive Subarus now? This is the twenty-first century, people. Get with it.)

Also, there’s no guarantee that there’ll be any assholes.

But seriously, who are we kidding? There are always assholes.

There were two great things about this jackhole lady this morning. First. she was a minor asshole — but still an asshole. She qualified, by virtue of careening in front of me at twenty miles an hour when it was my turn to go. I don’t make the rules, either of traffic or of being a reckless-driving gaping wank. So, asshole.

And second, I’d already run into — not literally, quite — two other assholes. There was the guy who crossed, sloooooowly, against the walk sign with a dozen cars waiting to clear a green light. And there was the other person — I didn’t get a good look — who cruised across three lanes of traffic without so much as a turn signal blip, the better to make a screeching right turn into a Dunkin Donuts. Hey, when you need a cup of joe, sometimes you NEED a cup of joe, apparently.

The point is, that’s three. Asshole, asshole, asshole, jaaaackpot! I’d hit my quota, all on my morning commute. I wasn’t injured, dead, fired, robbed, punched, chewed out, ostracized, drenched, stomped or even logged onto the internet — and my daily dose of assholes was already out of the way. Three up, and three down. Booyah.

(And yes, I realize there’s no actual rule that you can only be accosted by three assholes a day. But there ought to be. The universe doesn’t have a lot of rules — none that help us very much, anyway — so occasionally I make up a few of my own. I assume eventually the universe will take notice and adopt a policy or two as its own.

Not that the strategy works on my dog, mind you. Or anyone else. Maybe it’ll just take a few more decades to sink in. Or centuries.)

So I rather enjoyed the rest of my day, secure(-ish) in the knowledge that I wasn’t going to deal with any more assholes, all day long. And happily, I didn’t. Some people might say that’s a product of mind over matter, of a sunny outlook producing the very results it led me to expect.

Maybe. But I’m still going to shoot for the same commute time tomorrow. Maybe I’ll run into — almost — that same Subaru lady, and the slow-walker, and the guy or gal with the Dunkin Donuts emergency. If futzing with those yahoos for ten minutes on the way to work is all it takes to be asshole-free, it’s a small price to pay. “An apple a day”, eat your heart out.

Permalink  |  1 Comment



Three ‘Fores!’ and a Cloud of Dust

In this country, and at this time of year, NFL football is just about the biggest thing going. As a sport, it’s wildly popular; as a business, it makes billions upon billions of dollars annually. Millions of people glue their eyes to the television and their asses to the couch every Sunday — and Monday, and lately on Thursday — to watch the biggest of all Big Sports Deals.

(In America. I’m led to understand that Euro-style football and cricket and rugby and rounders and fox hunting and short-kilt caber tossing and a hundred other sports edge out the NFL in other parts of the globe.

For now. Give it time, Earthicans. The NFL means to assimilate you all, and has the deep pockets to try. Watch your soccer balls.)

Then there’s golf. Golf is a more popular sport to play, for a variety of reasons. You don’t need twenty-two people to form a foursome. Most people don’t have to wear a protective helmet to play — though I’ve met a few who probably should. And golfers generally don’t have to worry about getting tackled by an angry 300-pound man trying to rip their arm out of the socket.

“Golf is watched primarily by old men in Florida who can’t find the clicker after the Mama’s Family reruns go off.”

(Unless they forgot to tip the valet at the country club, perhaps. Or stiffed Big Bubba at the pro shop.)

PGA golf does not share pro football’s wide-ranging television popularity, however. Men, women and children of all ages, backgrounds, affiliations and hat sizes tune in to NFL football. Golf is watched primarily by old men in Florida who can’t find the clicker after the Mama’s Family reruns go off.

You might think these two professional sports couldn’t be any different. You may be surprised to learn, then, that the two have more in common than meets the eye. Just for instance:

In golf, ‘birdies’ are pretty good.

In the NFL, the Ravens, Falcons and Eagles are all ‘birdies’, and they’re also pretty good.

I didn’t say ‘great‘. Just pretty good. Keep yer cups on, rabid fans of all the other teams.

In golf, an ‘eagle’ is about as thrilling as it gets.

In the NFL, Michael Vick is an Eagle. He went to prison for running a dogfighting ring, and now gets crunched between enormous defensive behemoths on a regular basis, often sending him off the field with serious injuries.

Say what you want. I find that pretty damned “thrilling”, myself.

Golf has John Daly, who storms ahead on most holes, but usually fades out of contention — and has regular run-ins with the law, to boot.

In the NFL, they’re called the “San Diego Chargers”.

In the ‘sport’ of golf, a sloppy old mustachioed guy can still be successful.

Imma just leave this here:

Andy Reid / Craig Stadler

Separated at birth? Eagles head coach Andy Reid and “Champions Tour” golfer Craig Stadler.

Speaking of the ‘Champions Tour’, the PGA has a place (which used to be called the ‘Senior PGA Tour’) where they send the older competitors to continue to play.

In the NFL, this is also called the San Diego Chargers.

In golf, having no “short game” will inevitably lead to failure.

Same in the NFL. Just ask the Oakland Raiders.

In golf, there are officials on the course to make sure players don’t kick other players’ balls, or touch their own balls inappropriately.

Look, I don’t know what NFL refs like Ed Hochuli do, exactly. I’m just glad they’re back.


So there you go. PGA golf and NFL football — not so different, after all. Maybe soon you’ll see shoulder pads and blocking sleds out on the links. Or we’ll have linebackers brandishing three-woods while they blitz.

Honestly, with all the similarities it’s getting hard to tell the two sports apart. What did I miss?

Permalink  |  No Comments



HomeAboutArchiveBestShopEmail © 2003-15 Charlie Hatton All Rights Reserved
Highlights
Me on Film 'n' Stage:
  Drinkstorm Studios


Me on Science (silly):
  Secondhand SCIENCE


Me on Science (real):
  Meta Science News


Me on ZuG (RIP):
  Zolton's FB Pranks
  Zolton Does Amazon


Favorite Posts:
30 Facts: Alton Brown
A Commute Dreary
A Hallmark Moment
Blue's Clues Explained
Eight Your 5-Hole?
El Classo de Espanol
Good News for Goofballs
Grammar, Charlie-Style
Grammar, Revisitated
How I Feel About Hippos
How I Feel About Pinatas
How I Feel About Pirates
Life Is Like...
Life Is Also Like...
Smartass 101
Twelve Simple Rules
Unreal Reality Shows
V-Day for Dummies
Wheel of Misfortune
Zolton, Interview Demon

Me, Elsewhere

Features
Standup Comedy Clips

Selected Clips:
  09/10/05: Com. Studio
  04/30/05: Goodfellaz
  04/09/05: Com. Studio
  01/28/05: Com. Studio
  12/11/04: Emerald Isle
  09/06/04: Connection

Boston Comedy Clubs

 My 100 Things Posts

Selected Things:
  #6: My Stitches
  #7: My Name
  #11: My Spelling Bee
  #35: My Spring Break
  #36: My Skydives
  #53: My Memory
  #55: My Quote
  #78: My Pencil
  #91: My Family
  #100: My Poor Knee

More Features:

List of Lists
33 Faces of Me
Cliche-O-Matic
Punchline Fever
Simpsons Quotes
Quantum Terminology

Favorites
Banterist
...Bleeding Obvious
By Ken Levine
Defective Yeti
DeJENNerate
Divorced Dad of Two
Gallivanting Monkey
Junk Drawer
Life... Weirder
Little. Red. Boat.
Mighty Geek
Mitchieville
PCPPP
Scaryduck
Scott's Tip of the Day
Something Authorly
TGNP
Unlikely Explanations

Archives
Full Archive

Category Archives:

(Stupid) Computers
100Things
A Doofus Is Me
Articles 'n' Zines
Audience Participation
Awkward Conversations
Bits About Blogging
Bitter Old Man Rants
Blasts from My Past
Cars 'n' Drivers
Dog Drivel
Eek!Cards
Foodstuff Fluff
Fun with Words!
Googlicious!
Grooming Gaffes
Just Life
Loopy Lists
Making Fun of Jerks
Marketing Weenies
Married and a Moron
Miscellaneous Nonsense
Potty Talk / Yes, I'm a Pig
Sleep, and Lack Thereof
Standup
Tales from the Stage
Tasty Beverages
The Happy Homeowner
TV & Movies & Games, O My!
Uncategorized
Vacations 'n' Holidays
Weird for the Sake of Weird
Whither the Weather
Wicked Pissah Bahstan
Wide World o' Sports
Work, Work, Work
Zug

Heroes
Alas Smith and Jones
Berkeley Breathed
Bill Hicks
Dave Barry
Dexter's Laboratory
Douglas Adams
Evening at the Improv
Fawlty Towers
George Alec Effinger
Grover
Jake Johannsen
Married... With Children
Monty Python
Nick Bakay
Peter King
Ren and Stimpy
Rob Neyer
Sluggy Freelance
The Simpsons
The State

Plugs, Shameless
100 Best Humor Blogs | Healthy Moms Magazine

HumorSource

 

Feeds and More
Subscribe via FeedBurner

[Subscribe]

RDF
RSS 2.0
Atom
Credits
Site Hosting:
Solid Solutions

Powered by:
MovableType

Title Banner Photo:
Shirley Harshenin

Creative Commons License
  This work is licensed under a
Creative Commons License

Performancing Metrics

Page copy protected against web site content infringement by Copyscape

Valid XHTML 1.0

Valid CSS!

© 2003-15 Charlie Hatton
All Rights Reserved