You know what makes me sick? You know what makes me so mad I just wanna glue termites to my hind-end… and moon an ant-eater?
Yeah – I heard this story the other day… it didn’t make no sense to this regular American. It was some athlete… I don’t remember if he was a basketball player… or a football player… but he was on the road with his team. An’ while they were playing whatever sport it was that they were playing… somebody broke into this genius’ hotel room… and stole $300,000 worth of his jewelry.
First off – if Stupid has a Hall of Fame – this dummy is gonna get enshrined in his first year of eligibility. Who checks into a strange room… in a strange hotel… in a strange town… and leaves a third-of a million dollars in jewelry on the mini-fridge? I’m thinking this old boy has took one too many blows to the head in his playing career. Either that – or the guy’s the reincarnation of Mr. T… and he ain’t dead.
In which case – I would pity the fool.
Number two – what the hell is a man doing with a third of a million dollars worth of jewelry in the first place!!?? Here’s all the jewelry that a man needs to wear… a wedding ring, a watch… an’ a St. Christopher medal around his neck – if he’s Calflick – or afraid to crash. And the wedding ring is only if he’s afraid of his old lady!!
Now tell the truth here… you meet a guy that’s got a man-bracelet on… it creeps you out a little bit, don’t it? I mean the only guy that oughta be wearing a bracelet – should be deathly allergic to certain emergency medications.
Men with earrings? Only if you’re a burned out 60’s hippie… a professional athlete… or a pirate. .
Necklaces… like I said before… St. Christopher medals only. You ever seen them baseball players… got a giant rope around their necks. It looks like they just got back from a hanging that didn’t take??? Here’s a thought – if somebody wanted to strangle you – why would you give them a head start?? Idiots.
Wake up, America. If you’re a man… and you got more than fifty bucks worth of jewelry… you don’t need theft insurance. You need some of that low testosterone stuff you smear in your armpit. I’m Earl Pitts, American… Pitts off.