tellhimfred.com

Sup, loyal reader(s)!? We at THF have been pretty busy, pre-occupied, without a viable connection to the interweb, temporarily paralyzed, creatively indisposed, wrapped up with not watching the olympics, drunk, unconscious, and other otherwise unavoidably detained.

Sorry about that.

But we all know it’s summer, and you shouldn’t be sitting in front of your computer anyway. So. That in mind, a few items for your consideration.

In searching for the above picture, I was reminded that no matter the brand, no matter the situation, one can usually find a squadron of chicks, hot or otherwise, sporting the logo/branding of any particular alcoholic beverage…in this case - Tecate.

What I like to call, “Mexican Budweiser”, Tecate is available usually only in packies catering to the Latino/a crowd. Fortunately for me, I live in the Boston equivalent of Spanish Harlem, complete with businesses staffed with Spanish-only speakers. While this may make it difficult to get my shirts dry cleaned with extra starch, it does make it possible for me to enjoy the great, clean, crisp taste of Mexican Budweiser!

OK, moving on.

The Olympics are over. And other than my girlfriend, a whole section of the internet whose blogs bloated up with Olympics posts, the Michael Phelps fan club, my mom, most of my aunts and uncles, cousins and neighbors, much of the African continent, the Chinese economy, and a healthy chunk of the free world, who fucking cares about the Olympics? Seriously, I’m so done with them.  Swimming. At what other time does anyone give a crap about watching swimming? Never. So what makes it so much fun to gather around the teev now and watch that goddamn robot-alien hybrid sprout propellers and burn everyone in the pool?  Right.

Boxing? I personally don’t care to watch boxing unless it’s man-v.-beast boxing, like back in the day when they used to let kangaroos kick drunk peoples’ asses. Watching a skinny Irish guy beat up a skinny Cuban guy? If I want to see that, I’ll just go to South Boston on unemployment check friday after the bars close.  Better seats and none of that safety equipment.

Track. For me, there’s a heirarchy of events like this, and track ranks down at the bottom. Ultimately, there’s nothing but semantic differences between NASCAR, midget car racing, horse racing, dog racing, and track. Watching anything zoom around in circles for any length of time without being able to launch rockets at it is BOOOOORRRINNNNGGG. With the possible exception of the drunk bastards at the New Hampshire speedway who fix up beater station wagons just enough so they run, and race them around till one of them catches on fire. That’s…not so bad.

Women’s Beach Volleyball. OK, Fine. Nothing wrong with that.

Water polo. See above “swimming” rant, except replace every third word with “WHAT THE FUCK”.

Yeah, I’m no fan of the Summer Olympics. The Winter, on the other hand, with the triathalon of skiing, rifle shooting, and cricket bat-beating; Olympic curling, and the sport otherwise known as “watch some a-hole in a rubber suit go down an ice tube at like a billion miles an hour on a flexible flyer and hope he wrecks”…those I can get behind. Usually with case of Tecate.