get in the game…

I’ve recently read one too many bios that include the phrase ‘I don’t play games’ and then find a buffet size list of dating complaints in the same person’s stream of 140 letters or less digital rants. So I’m devoting the next 750 or so words to trying to solve this knowing that the ones that need to read it won’t make it pass the click more button and those that do are probably already equipped with this knowledge…but as is life…

The root of dating pain for most is that they feel it isn’t a sport…while the potential partners in their ‘so you think you can be my husband’ pairings are definitely approaching it as a sport…and probably a seasoned veteran at this point because of her need to date older guys (another post for another day)…

Now as much as I’d like to tell you to filter out those players of this ‘game’ and find the genuine gents, I’m not sure your ovaries are that patient…don’t fret though because just like LeBron if you know the rules and apply a little practice here and there, you can experience mediocre results from great expectations…

just something in my eye…

As you real sports fans have no doubt seen numerous times in the never ending sportscenter loop, the Miami Heat coach went all snitch mcgee after their loss yesterday. No he didn’t call out LeBron or D. Wade on their philandering while on the road but instead in a more cowardly scenario he decided to tell the reporters that some of his players were in the locker room boo-hoo’ing over a box of puffs. Now granted it was their 4^th loss in a row and they did lose once again relying on ‘king’ james’ late game heroics but were tears and snot rags really necessary?

That was rhetorical.

It did however cause me to wonder if and when it was appropriate for grown men to shed a little h2o from their optical openings. Not to say that there is anything wrong with a wet cheekbone, but you can’t just be weeping and sniffling over anything. The following should give us a good start as to what warrants tear deposits.

inside the men’s locker room…

What is it about men and sports? I decided today to attempt to get to the bottom of this by broaching the subject with my QB. Sure- I like sweaty competition between extremely athletic looking men just like the next hot blooded female sports fan, but my dedication ends before I  waste set aside my entire Sunday for  football, bipolarly switch between three basketball games on TV while trying to eat dinner or let the loss of some overpaid baseball players determine my mood.

In the end, the Giants, the Knicks and the Yankees will still get copious amounts of @ss money whether I love them or not. They have much more to gain by winning and much more to lose from losing than I do, so my loyalty will not determine the trajectory of their win/loss ratio. Plus- none of these overpaid athletes give a damn about me, so how invested could I possibly be?

what the sports world can teach us about breakups…

welcome back ubf’ers…hopefully the thanksgiving holiday/black friday combo has your bellies full and your wallets as empty as mine…but a word of caution to those expecting gifts…my wallet was empty way before the target trampling started…as most of you know, when i’m not out drinking and making bad life decisions counseling our followers on all the ills beauties of meaningful male/female relationships, i am glued to my 52 inch picture machine watching andre johnson doing his best ike turner impression on cortland finnegan’s helmetless head skilled athletes perform in games of skill and endurance…one can learn a great deal from the challenges these athletes face from game to game but today the pessimist in me wants to focus on what happens when happy endings are aborted (and subsequent tips withheld) and things don’t go according to plan…here are some nuggets we can take away from sport’s messiest break-ups…

another round of thanks…

So we find ourselves at that one day of the year where you thank others for doing the things you spend the rest of the year taking credit for. Since you are either patiently waiting on mama dukes to finish up the greens or sitting on the couch with your pants undone eye raping that piece of pie, I’m guessing I have your attention for a little bit.

Yesterday elrock kicked off the holiday with his special shouts to those things filling his basket o’ happiness. Not to be outdone, I’m back with a turkey leg and a few things I’m thankful for:

+ elrock for always being the co-conspirator in these bad decisions and good times…

+ lolita’s unique ability to raise the male ubf readership through the mere mention of perky boobs and nice behind without any pictorial evidence…