I Hate Michael Irvin

- Do you want proof that network and cable television executives lure hobos into their homes with promises of a hot meals and dry clothes only to strangle them with fishing line for sexual gratification?

- Do you want proof that network and cable television executives snipe dolphins with illegal automatic firearms provided by Pakistani terrorists from the crow's nest of their eighty-foot yacht that runs on untaxed Saudi Arabian petrol?

- Do you want proof that these same executives sell uncut Colombian cocaine to children and promote unprotected/underage sex to African orphans and smoke menthol cigarettes in non-smoking hotel rooms?

Ready for the proof? Are you ready?

Michael Irvin.

BOOM. There's your proof. Look no further, my friends.

Now bear with me here for a moment. Let's think back and remember the great recession of 2008, and let's remember when your co-worker Bob was fired for producing poor quarterly numbers. Do you remember that pathetic fucking look on his face when he said goodbye to you, and you knew he wasn't going to go straight home and tell his wife what happened, but instead was planning to drink whiskey at some dirty bar until he pissed his pants and/or got in a fight with another loser who was also scraping bottom?

Now, Bob was fired for working hard, but not hard enough. That’s just the way Corporate America works sometimes. Good guys are fired. Bad guys are fired - it all evens out in the end. But answer me this: did Bob ever try to stab someone in the neck with a pair of scissors for cutting him line at the barbershop? No, I'm sure he didn't. But, Michael Irvin did. Okay he, allegedly, tried to stab Everett McIver in the neck for cutting him in line at the stadium barbershop. Throw in three arrests for crack possession and two sexual assault allegations and you have the kind of person who I wouldn't leave a tube of super glue around.

But not Bob, no, Bob never did any of this. And yet, Bob is still unemployed, his wife left him, and he gained forty pounds eating homemade Hamburger Lo mein every night for dinner. He's also hooked on Vicodin and a black hooker named "Big Momma" he found on Craigslist. But the "reformed" druggy shithead with a rap sheet that reads like a Riker’s Island inmate? Well, he's still employed. And paid handsomely.

As I’m sure you already know, life, poetically, is a motherfucker. Ex-athletes are granted a lot more lenience than your average "Bob" is. Irvin’s been employed several times over - for different companies mind you - even though he continually does dumb shit to prove he is just your garden-variety, old-fashioned asshole. Just typing these words makes me want to scream, because I know that if he gets caught lighting an orphanage on fire tomorrow, in a year or so he’ll be working again, and for some reason, everyone will be okay with this.

ESPN is to blame, the NFL Network is to blame, you're probably to blame too. For what? I don't know, but I bet you had a Michael Irvin Starting Lineup or some shit as a kid. Fucking loser. But what really drives me nuts is, if you replaced him with any other ex-athlete, nobody would care. Nobody. Let me repeat one more time...NOBODY WOULD CARE. At first you would probably say, "Hmm, Irvin's gone - he was probably high as fuck and drove his car into a ravine." A week later, you would say, "Hmm, I wonder what happened to Irvin." A week after that you would say, "did I leave the stove on?" because YOU'RE AN IDIOT.

Hopefully, one day soon, karma will catch up with Irvin and those stupid fucking 1996 lines he has shaved into his head. And hopefully he will pay for all the wrong he's done in his life. Oh, and let's all hope Bob pulls out of this tailspin he's in, after all he's a good guy - he recycles!

1 comment:

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