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Sore Loser

Posted on December 28, 2004 by under Life.    

“I only started playing racquetball to kiss ass to my boss. I didn’t think YOU would fall in love with it.”

Sorry to steal a line from Torque but that is truly the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard! Look what all that ass-kissing got him – nothing. This prooves, yet again, how retarded ass-kissing is and why I do not believe in it.

He talked me into signing up for a YMCA membership for what? So that he could continue kissing his boss’ behind? Alright, so it didn’t take a lot to convince me. Bite me.

But still, I thought that he enjoyed racquetball. He seemed to at first. That was part of the reason that I agreed. Do you really think that I would be paying $40 a month for a YMCA membership that I didn’t think would be used? If it were up to me, I would just stay home (maybe). I may be frivolous about shopping but I still have my frugal, pragmatic Asian side.

In Brian’s effort to stall from playing, we end up psychoanlyzing the situation. He thinks that I use racquetball to feel good. Umm, hello? I have toys to make me feel good. Is he referring to my self-esteem? I’m not nearly as good at racquetball as I would like to be but my self-esteem hardly needs any help. I’m awesome at a LOT of other things and that in itself makes me feel good. I don’t need any help in the self-esteem department. My head is big enough as it is..

I play racquetball because I think it’s fun. It’s as close to volleyball (which I also enjoy) as I’m going to get because I don’t know where I can play volleyball in the winter time and I don’t know any people to play with. I play because I love learning new things, games, activities. I think it’s fun and challenging. And I want to see myself improve, even by just a little bit each time.

I think he’s just a sore loser. He can’t handle that I am better at him at racquetball, of all things. But who cares who’s better at what? He is better than me at some things and I am better than him at other things. We’re not playing the game of who’s better at what. I don’t really give a shit. I just want to play dammit!

But my theory is that somehow my being better at racquetball bothers him. Like it takes away from what little semblance of manliness he has left or something. Perhaps he was amused at the notion of me getting into racquetball. And he thought that it was funny that I wanted to play so much and to try so hard to learn and get better. But deep down he was convinced that he was better than me at racquetball if he put forth just a bit of effort. Now that I’ve shattered that notion, however, it’s not so funny anymore. Now that we know that even if he tries he won’t win, he’s not so amused.

Why the discussion? Because now he has to shave his balls. That’s why. 

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