Speaking of sports, I found Gerard Cosloy’s blog today. I guess I’m not as disappointed in the content as I am the rather toothless nature of it. I thought there’d be some seething analysis, the tearing down of boring league stooges (Hi, Tom Brady!) and the celebration of banal excess (do you guys need me to post my shipping address for the Artest thing or what?). Instead it’s just dry re-hashing of the same old hacks, with little to no original writing at all.
Hey, guilty as charged. As anyone who reads CSTB every day can tell you, I revere boring league stooges — all of ’em! And this guy nailed me on the lack of orignal content. I mean, I’m tempted to share intimate details about my personal life, but compared to the scintillating stuff at CMM, it wouldn’t possiby stand up. I have no doubt that when you check out the aforementioned blog and get a load of this guy’s thrill-ride existence, you won’t be coming back here again. For instance, you’ll be dazzled with entries like :
I’m working 8-5 this week, which is completely rotten. At least I have computer access, but I haven’t worked like this in so long that a lot of the tips I learned to help whittle away sloooow days have disappeared from my memory. It doesn’t help that I’m stuck in this cycle where friends are in town, friends are leaving town, more friends are in town, different friends are leaving town that seems to translate to “get three hours of sleep before going into work a mind-numbing 9 hour shift with nothing to do and no iPod access because you might have to take a few phone calls.” I don’t do stuff like play games at work or anything that bold yet time-wasting, so I’m kinda stuck looking at the same handful of things on the internet and AIMing the crap of H*BOMb and Willis.
Hot stuff, eh? I’m enough of a good sport to admit when I’ve had my ass kicked. I just wish the horrible realization of CSTB’s lameness hadn’t hit me during this, the Suicide Season. Why, oh why, has it take so long for a superior talent to put me in my rightful place?