Flash Warner Saves Her Grievances Until The End

You may know Flash Warner from her own blog, where she tools on various figures in sport and life in general, FlashWarner.com, or as the stern taskmistress who helped whip Cozmo & Chiles back into shape.  (along with other AofG Regulars such as Coop (aka Klompus) and HiNYC. But you may have forgotten that she (with Johnnie and DSafetyGuy, both repeat contributors today) helped pin Frank in last year's Feats of Strength as well.  As always, she brings the heat.  Enjoy.

I've got a lotta problems with you people and the first assclown on my list is Death.. 

I don't know who you think you are, buddy, but I don't appreciate the way you refuse to listen to my requests! I've had it up to here! And while I'm only 5'4 stretching, that's still a pretty serious limit for your crap! On January 3rd, I petitioned that you shuffle Al Davis loose the mortal coil. The Oakland Raiders Restoration Project was supposed to be a two-part process where Norv Turner was fired and Al Davis left us for the fiery depths. You see, with Al at the helm, the Oakland Raiders will suffer another 10 years of coaching retreads, "scheme" guys, and softball personalities. There will be no leadership and there will be no progress. God forbid he put some leaders on the roster or pay top dollar for a great coach that he can leave alone and support. Oh no. Not Al. He needs a puppet that's as useful as my boyfriend after a blowjob and that is why he had to go!

Continuing to tolerate his existence is in direct violation of the "Commitment to Excellence," a way of life that I, as a Raider fan, hold near and true to my heart. I had already sent word to Al that it was time to pack it up and bring a couple coins for the Boatman to be ferried across the River Styx. But for some reason, my request went unanswered. I made another on February 10th -- "Dear Death, I resubmit my request to those on the ethereal plain to shuffle Al Davis loose the mortal coil and take him to the 9th circle of Hell... preferably in Judecca. I know some would say, "Well Al Davis is evil but 9th Circle evil?" OH YES! Al Davis isn't just evil on purpose, he has knowingly and deliberately betrayed Raider Nation... He should take his place in Cocytus with Satan, Brutus, Cassius, and Judas Iscariot for leading us down the primrose path." Remember that?? Of course you do! But where were you?? Probably shooting the fucking breeze with Al Davis!!  Christ, I wouldn't be surprised if ARE Al Davis.  But if not, I want this guy GONE.

I want this guy gone, right now. Painless or peaceful, I couldn't care less. If you want to use that flesh-eating monster that's slowly eroding his face to kick its shit into overdrive, fine. I'm sick of this, Death!! Get on the case!

To Jerry Porter: It's been four months since I set my authentic Jerry Porter jersey on fire out of shame and sorrow. I remember that moment like it was yesterday and it still makes me sad. You owe me $149.99, dickless.

To the drunken reprobate sitting in front of me on Monday night at the Colts/Bengals rout: I'm adding you to my Grim Reaper list of requests! It wasn't 40 seconds that I was in my seat before you turned around and shouted a beer-soaked "WHO DEYYYYYY!" in my face. Did I look like a Colts fan to you?? NO! Was I wearing any NFL gear?! NO! Did I look like I wanted you in my face? As Whitney Houston would say - Hell 2 da Naw! And yet, your sorry redneck ass thought I did, turning around every 42 seconds until game time to throw that nonsense in my face. And it only got better when you finally took off your coat to reveal the epitome of jersey offenses:

Lemme tell you something Bengal fan, it is the complete assclown, and he alone, that sports the number 69 after graduating from high school. But it is another person entirely who does so on an authentic NFL jersey that also has HMFIC on the back. The Head Motherfucker In Charge is going to be me, after I kick you in the fucking teeth and push your jersey down your throat! If you're not down for that, seppuku. Do not pass Go. Do not collect $200. End it all now and put yourself out of your misery because you, sir, are a total abomination and you ruined my Monday night.   

To David Blaine: Eat a dick! You're hot and the levitating and street magic things were pretty cool (or as cool as magic can be) way back in 1997. But then you stopped doing tricks and got on with lame endurance stunts. I'm not saying you have to be impregnating chicks without having sex like David Copperfield but at least wow me with an illusion or two. Trick me, David! Mislead me! Don't just sit in a tank for a week and then promise that you'll hold your breath for 9 minutes or die and NOT FOLLOW UP!! I refuse that! Don't promise me death and fail to come through! What's even worse about your madness is in the time that it's taken your stones to transition from raisins back to prunes, you've come up with another Lack of Trickery Stunt:

"I'm planning to live harmoniously among wild beasts. And I'd like to do it alone in the jungle."

Get the fuck outta here, David Blaine! I think Jane Goodall and Dian Fossey (AND her gorillas in the mist) would agree that this shit is old hat. I've got a magic trick for you - why don't you send yourself to Hell, contact ABC from the 5th circle, and arrange for them to televise your return. Stu Scott can write a free verse poem about your brilliant emergence from the fire and if you don't come back, we'll assume hocus pocus failed.

To Sven-Goran Eriksson: thanks for the memories, you ratfaced bastard. Burn in hell.

To Billy Idol: At first, I thought it was pretty funny that you had a Christmas cd.. You rock out but you do it with Perry Como's cock out, which is as sad as it is hilarious. But then I read where you said a punk Christmas is bollocks. And that Christmas music is about the fireside, the family, and that whole feel-good warmth one gets while decorating the house with Christmas cheer. Forget that! Now, maybe I'm seeing things differently becuase I'm sitting on the Jew side of the fence but I want to see Billy Idol bringing it hard and tonguing it! What the hell is this?!

To Disgraced Athletes: When you're caught, I want you to hold press conferences and follow this script: "Sorry for wasting your time, fans. Sorry for electrifying you with trickery, fans. I'm a fraudulent cheating fuck and I'm shocked that my dumb ass got caught even though I knowingly doped up. I really thought I could get away with everything so long as I said 'shocked' and 'never knowingly' but it turns out I was wrong and now I need to pay the price. Did you lose faith in athletes? Did I destroy the ideal? Would you like to poke me in the arse with a cattle prod? That makes total sense and I understand. Here's my address. Feel free to drop by. I won't get indignant on you. Thank you for your time and consideration. I certainly don't deserve it. Good bye, all. I'm now going to fuck off and die." ~ Disgraced Athlete X"

To The Happy Ending Bikini Wax Place: Look, I know I'm filled with a lot of anger and all but after I've been traumatized with hair removal, the last thing I want to do is pay another $50 to get off courtesy of some clown in a striped polo shirt with a popped collar. I am not coming back.. no pun intended.

To Women That Let Their Men Carry a Manpurse: You are unacceptable!! How do you stay with a man that is willing to trade his masculinity to carry around a bag that's possibly more stylish than your purse? I'm terribly vexed by this. Now, I'm sure there are people out there thinking, "well, he's secure in his masculinity!" That's bollocks. "Secure in his masculinity" is a phrase coined by some naive woman who was trying to explain away her metrosexual boyfriend's behavior to her girlfriends at lunch and I'm not buying it.

My man needs a pocket and that pocket must only be big enough to hold one thing: money. Combs, sunglasses, and miscellaneous fashion accouterments are not apart of the game here. If I can get by with carrying a debit card, a tube of chapstick, and my cell phone, I expect men to do with less. Is there something for me to carry? You'd better put that shit in the car or bring your backpack because my pants are way too tight to accommodate your accessories.

Speaking of my own man: You are driving me nuts. When you wonder where it all went wrong two months from now, I'm going to get mad at you having not read this... I'm just irrational like that. You and your shenanigans are officially on notice.

To my therapist: As evidenced by this tirade, it's just not working. I'm going back to my own rage control methods.

Comments

[Todd Gack /NFL Adam]

Wow. That ball has not landed yet.

[jackie]

"I'm going back to my own rage control methods."

Such as?

[Flash]

I dunno.. it's been far too long. But I do recall that harassing you was a fairly cathartic activity.

[jackie]

"But I do recall that harassing you was a fairly cathartic activity."

For both of us.

[notadoctor]

I'm no doctor, but perhaps "HMFIC" is short for "HOMOPHOBIC," and the guy is just cheap, and a bad speller?

Oh, and this guy is nothing compared to USC fans. Either they are insufferably pompous, or they are displaced Raider fans (I have found that the best counter-taunt at the Coliseum is "Raiders Suck").

[starburysurprise]

And I don't think it's coming down either! wow. just wow.

Ms. Flash, when you're done with this guy and the therapist, I'd like to volunteer my services. I think we can work out some good catharsis that'll still let you go all hellcat when necessary ;)