From the Surfside

I feel like I need to clarify something from a recent post. The thought of kicking the opposing coach in the nuts, while a straight-up violent act, driven by a lethal mix of frustration and anger and capable of delivering a crippling injury, would have been dispatched with the intention of causing complete public humiliation as opposed to physical discomfort. Sure, a direct hit to the nuts does indeed come with excruciating pain whether it be from an oncoming assailant or just the unfortunate placement of oneself on the seat of a bicycle, but what tends to hurt more is the lingering embarrassment that comes with unintended contact to the genital area. Think about it. Boxing, a sport based on the whole idea of hitting your opponent until he falls down, has devised a rule for nothing “below the belt”. Even with a protective cup in place, if crotch shots were allowed in boxing, matches would be over in mere minutes. Men would rush at their opponent, furiously jabbing at the crotc

Took a lovely jaunt down to a small town in the southeastern part of Massachusetts today to witness a complete shellacking in a seventh-grade Division 4 basketball game. Unfortunately, the team in which I assist with the coaching duties was on the receiving end of the drubbing, 45-15. Our formidable hosts clearly had the edge in size, which we could see even before tip-off. In fact, I’m confident making the statement that they have the two tallest 13 year-olds in New England no matter how much hyperbolic stank that may wreak of. That is if they were actually 13. As our team sat together in the bleachers waiting for the game preceding ours to finish up, I glanced around the middle school gym and noticed the 5 or 6 banners lining the walls, touting League Basketball Championships over the course of the last decade. Ominous to say the least. I tend to size up our opponents during warm-ups; trying to match who on our team will cover their bigger guys and I know that most of our

What’s 48 and a half inches long and can be held between my forefinger and thumb? Get your mind out of the gutter. It’s my receipt from CVS today. Absurd, isn’t it? 48.5” of receipt. And to pile more absurdity onto an already absurd situation, I only bought three items totaling $12.46. Shaving cream, hair gel, and a pack of gum. I just undid every measure I took in the year 2018 to protect the environment in one single transaction at CVS. Seriously, what the fuck? For those that haven’t bothered to do the conversion yet, that’s just over four feet of receipt. My receipt from CVS is as tall as the average seven-year-old boy. The next time I visit Six Flags or any other amusement park around the country, my receipt from CVS would be a suitable source of measure when trying to figure out if a particular child was tall enough to board a roller coaster without being accompanied by an adult. Speaking of boarding things, If I accidentally tried to board an airline flight