About a week ago I got the privilege of seeing my beloved Oregon Ducks lose in the Rose Bowl to the Ohio State Buckeyes. In the past this would have upset me to the point of breaking my remote for the fifth time, but over the last couple of years I’ve purposely distanced myself from caring so much about sports I have no involvement with whatsoever. Yes, the Oregon Ducks football team is one of my favorite teams in all of sports, but I’m not a part of the team, and I don’t go to the school, so I see no reason to get upset about a loss. Of course I would have preferred for them to win, but instead of moping about a loss, and complaining the next few weeks about how they could have won, I just jerked off and went to bed. Well not really. Normally I probably would have jerked off, but I was so fucking tired from being up forever that I just went to bed. But believe you me my dreams were filled with wild fantasies of jerking off. One of the things I’ve been upset with in my life regarding dreams is that they haven’t been very sexual. Dreams are the only place where anything can happen, yet in my whole life I haven’t even had enough sexual dreams to count on two hands. And I’ve never had a dream where I’ve full out had sex with somebody, which I find shocking considering I can’t get laid in real life. My dreams won’t even do me the courtesy of letting me have sex in them. When I see a hot girl walking down the street and I say to my buddy, ‘boy I’d like to give her a serving of my pickle,’ and he says, ‘yeah, that will only happen in your dreams,’ no, not even in my fucking dreams could I get her. It’s ridiculous! My dreams should fulfill my ultimate fantasies. But instead they just have me waking up every morning thinking, ‘what the fuck was that dream about.’ (What ever happened to talking about the Rose Bowl?) I can never stay focused.
The first thing I always notice when watching football is how tight the pants are. I figure most girls think it’s done purposely with the intent of raising the number of female viewers. But in actuality the idea is that you want everything you’re wearing to be as tight as possible so it makes it harder for the other team to grab onto your jersey. It’s not like the NBA where every player has their shorts sagging down to their ankles. I’m sure everybody has their own theory of why the shorts in the NBA are longer than they used to be, and I’m sure on the top of that list is comfort. But my theory is that back in the day the NBA had a lot more white people, whereas now there are essentially no white people, but the shorts aren’t short just because it’s a tradition in the black community to have their shorts sagging, not only to look cool, but also to create a breeze for their larger ass, but if the NBA still had those short shorts all these huge black guys would be running around with there monster cocks hanging out, and that’s just not good for the younger viewers, although I’m sure that would up the viewership of women even more than tight pants do in football, which brings me back to my original point. I don’t like the tight pants. I spend a good 30% of my time watching football just staring at the player’s asses. Don’t get me wrong I’m not just staring at their asses, I’m also staring at their unbelievable muscles. It’s the same way I feel about penises. I’m not obsessed with them because I’m attracted to them in any way. I’m obsessed with them because I’m so damn jealous. When I see a guy with a nice ass, or a ripped body, or a big penis, I can’t stop thinking about him (because you’re gay) yes, because I’m gay… I mean no, damn it, it’s because I’m so damn jealous. It’s like when a guy sees his neighbor’s really nice car. He gets obsessed with it because he wants it for himself. When I see a big penis I want it (in you) yes in me… wait no, not in me, I want it on me (that really doesn’t sound any less homosexual).
Anyway, those were my thoughts on the Rose Bowl.