BRONX, NY – I am done. Seriously. Done. I had all but completed yet another Angry Ward Wednesday post back around 9 pm EST on Tuesday night when I thought to myself, “Hey, maybe I should save this?” and- Kapow!!! – in a matter of seconds it was gone. Nothing to be found. 500 or so words just vanished into the heavy night air.
So, I did what anyone else would; I called Short Matt and cursed at him and this site and my rotten luck. I swore I would not start rewriting… but rewrite I did. And it wasn’t half bad. It had jokes about James Dolan (who I called F***tard) and Isiah Thomas (who I referred to as “The Lunesta Molesta“) and how great it was that these two chums were back together again. I think I even said something about Dolan making up for the $11.6 million he lost in the Thomas sexual harassment suit by raising the price of the Hallmark Channel by a penny a month. Slowly but surely I started remembering what I had written, and I think I was maybe even making it better.
I jumped to a bit on Floyd Mayweather and how he was announcing he would fight Manny Pacquiao again. And I said that anyone would take another $180 million to play 36 minutes of grab-ass. I then made a remark about how I would let Reggie Roby punt me in the nuts for a million. A reference was made to Mayweather being the P.T. Barnum of the Sweet Science and that he would have to wait at least a year for another easy payday due to Pacquiao’s injured shoulder.
This made for an easy segue to the lawsuit a couple of broken milk bottles from Las Vegas were bringing against Pacquiao, his manager, Bob Arum, Britney Spears, Doyle Brunson, Jack Ruby, the cast of “Showgirls,” and a host of others for the Pacman not informing the clueless fighting public of his torn rotator cuff prior to the fight of the century. Then I wrote something about Mets fans suing the Mets and Wilpons for sexual abandonment because it’s virtually impossible for Mets fans to get laid. I think that joke almost worked. I don’t know, it was getting late.
Finally, I decided to finish things off talking about the ad nauseam NFL coverage. There were some biting remarks concerning Mel Kiper and something about round-the-clock NFL coverage being as stale as the burger and hot dog rolls in Short Matt’s freezer. I was almost done! Almost 600 words at this point!
And then the lights went out. I mean all the lights. All the power. I hadn’t saved a thing, because I didn’t want the same fate to befall me as last time. I did copy some of it along the way in the event that I might need to paste it back in, but now that was gone too. I texted management that I was done and would not write another word. But the lights are on again, Super said fuse blew for a whole line, and I’m back over 500 again. What can I say? I’m a glutton for punishment.
Good enough. And goodnight.
Speaking of the lights going out, listen to Lenny Randle: