An alert jonsonblog reader asks “Have you explored wearing the Slanket as a pair of billowy pants?
Now who’s the retard?!”
Well played sir, well played.
I love sports & I love betting on stuff, and I really really love betting on sports. More on that in a moment.
When I was in high school my friend Barry and I had a running bet where if either of us could guess in one try how much money the other one had on them at that moment, within a dollar, you got to keep the other person’s money. There were by-laws and fine print and all sorts of sub-rules, such as you couldn’t place the bet in the same day that you SAW the other person’s wallet contents, like at a fast food place or whatever, and you couldn’t try to place the bet more than one time per week. I seem to remember winning a bunch of times, since high school kids invariably didn’t have large/complex sums of money on them in the 1980s, but I think I only actually lost the money once. After that one time I took to carrying a crumpled five hidden in my back pocket so that if Barry guessed correctly I could spontaneously “find” my missing fiver that would skew the bet and I could hold on to my cash.
So, you can see that I’m not above cheating to win or at the very least, cheating to avoid losing. Unfortunately, when it comes to sports betting I’m not sure I can overcome the clear evidence that the universe does not want me to win. I can bet on absolute mortal locks and still wind up losing; in fact, while I don’t believe in a lot of superstitions that other people share, like leprechauns or Jesus*, I’m firmly convinced that I can alter the very laws of nature itself by my sports wagering. If water being wet was a sport I could bet on it and somehow it would end up dry.
Still, I really love betting on sports. Last year I had a whole plan about how I was going to find one NFL game a week and put $100 on it, until I finally lost. I won the first week, in a closer match than I wanted, then I won the 2nd week. By week three I was planning what I would do with 17 weeks worth of $90 winnings (betting $100 gets you only $90 in winnings – it’s how casinos make money). I think I was torn between putting it all on the over/under in the superbowl or just setting the money on fire in a pile in the back yard, but it turns out I didn’t have to make that decision since the fucking Carolina Panthers ended up winning by two points instead of three. Fuck you Carolina Panthers, this isn’t over between us.
So this year I have a new system, which boils down to: bet against the Atlanta Falcons every week no matter what the point spread is. While their former back up (and now starting) quarterback may be the one white person in America who was in favor of Michael Vick’s dog torturing empire, he’s not much of a quarterback. In fact, I’m pretty sure the Falcons only signed Joey Harrington because they lost a bet or someone dared them or something. During the week that the Falcons have off I’m thinking I’ll bet against the Raiders no matter what the point spread is. I’m not sure what I will do with 17 weeks worth of winnings, but I’m pretty sure I’m going to invest the money into the Little Baby Cupcake’s college fund. Or possibly put it all on the over/under in the NFC Wild Card Game. I hear it’s a lock.
*Through years of research I’ve found that nothing bothers devout Christians more than the leprechaun comparison. I like to tease the Christians, but only becuse they believe in an invisible zombie who doesn’t want them to think dirty thoughts.
So, April 29th came & went, and I did not win a two million dollar dream house in the hills above Asheville, North Carolina, despite being the most sincere & deserving candidate. To add insult to injury, I watched the horrendous giveaway special on HGTV, where they informed me that something like 20 other entrants would be winning huge cash prizes during the show. Every few minutes they'd just stop the show and the host would read a few names, like "Hey, Mary Smith of Ohio – you just won $10,000!" or "Hey, Sally Jeroldson of Indiana, you just won $50,000". They started at small amounts, giving 10K away to like 10 people, but worked their way up to give away a cash prize of $100K to the final runner up. The show sucked, but it did teach me a few things.
Thing One: Never enter contests like this unless you want to be raped by a bear. Follow my logic here: there were 53 million entrants, according to the show, which works out to one in every six people in America. Probably more than that, when you discount people too young to enter, morons who can't write, people with no hands, etc. Now, in order to come in first, you'd have to be one in fifty three million, which is pretty dang special, or (assuming my math is correct) one of the six most special/lucky people in America. So I did some checking over on the Bureau of Ursine Sexual Assault website and it turns out that in 2005 (the last full year for which statistics have been compiled) six hunters filed claims for having been sodomized by grizzlies while out in the woods. So if you start thinking you're one of the six most special/lucky people in America, then it only stands to reason you could just as easily be one of the six most special/unlucky people in America, and at this stage in my life, I am not interested in being raped by a bear. Gentle, Ben! You gotta romance me a little first.
Thing the second: I might be a chick. Almost every cash prize runner up person was a chick, and they claimed to choose randomly, which makes me think that almost every person who entered this contest was a chick. Since it costs nothing to enter, and you can do it online, and it's a two million dollar prize, I figure everyone who heard about the contest entered, which makes me think that the only people who heard about the contest were chicks, which means that no guys watch HGTV despite their many awesome shows about how to decorate your house in a manner that makes it look more attractive for when you are having guests over.
Thing the third: The people at HGTV have a delightful sense of irony. They gave the four story hilltop retreat and the fully loaded GMC Yukon to a septegenarian quadripelgic who will not be able to enjoy his (non-cripple friendly) house at all, even if he was gonna live long enough to do so, which he won't. So, I'm not sure what else they could have done to further tantalize this poor numb-from-the-waist-down bastard; the special kept showing things like the stairmaster exercise room on the first floor, and the special guest nook on the third floor, and the bunk bed room for young children, and just really, enough already. I expected them to open a device in the kitchen that seductively rubbed the owners unfeeling nutsack just for the extra pathos.
So, to recap, screw you Home & Garden Television, I will never watch your House Hunting shows again!!!!