Tuesday, August 29, 2006

I knew it all along...and another gripe...

Vanessa here...

Remember me? The world's greatest blog-slacker? I know. I suck. Get over it. I'll have to. The summer's been busy and life has been wearing me down, but I still have plenty to bitch and carp about.

Let's start with this: "Pretty in Pink" (one of my all-time faves!) has been released on DVD. And I knew, knew, knew it all along! The original ending was Andie ending up with Duckie. Hello! How could that not have been the true ending? She didn't belong with Blane in his world. The whole ending was a sham 'cause it went against everything she'd been building for over the course of the movie. And I was right! Original ending was she was with Duckie. Don't believe me, check out this Washington Post article.

Sure, Blane was cute, but Duckie was her soul mate!



It's funny, I always thought Andrew McCarthy's hair looked like shit in the last scene. Now I know it's because they called them back for a new shoot and he was wearing a wig (he'd shaved his head for a play he was doing.)

Ah well...it's in the past...but they could have at least put the alternate ending on the DVD.

So, my other gripe today is Fantasy Football Leagues. (There's no link 'cause if you Google it, it comes back with 44,900,000 possible hits. Yoink!)

Let me clarify this with the following: I freaking love football! You would have a hard time finding a female who knows as much about football as I do. (Watched it all the time with my dad growing up.) So, my problem isn't with football. It's with all these guys who live, eat and breathe their fantasy football picks.

Case in point, the sales people here at work. Every morning around the coffee maker, they gather to bust each others' chops about their "draft" choices, talking of discipline and workouts and two-a-days and speaking like they are the actual coach. Talk of T.O. and the Tuna. Nick and the Phins. Belacheck and 'da Pats. Is Favre done? Will Carson Palmer perform this year? What about Reggie Bush? Who got Vince Young? And "dude, I can't fucking believe you drafted DeShaun Foster!"

Does any of this really matter? I mean...it's make-believe. It's fantasy. Why dog each other for your picks? Why careen towards the canyon of fear over your draft positions, your starters for the first Sunday and or how you won't be able to hold your head up around the boys if your picks aren't good?

Are these guys compensating for their own inadequacies? Did they fail at football at some point in their lives and this is their control on a world gone mad? Is it a testosterone thing? I mean, you don't see women having Fantasty America's Next Top Model or anything. Maybe we should? We could pick on each other when their draftee model gets cut. We can belittle our friends' choices. And we can cheer and jeer at their failures. I mean, isn't that what the fantasy football is about?

Do you know that the American workforce wastes like 30% of their time on fantasy sports leagues? Thirty percent!! While I'm sitting here doing spreadsheets and entering leads and planning tradeshows and Xeroxing and collating and doing all the shit work that I do, the men in my office spend thirty percent of their time on their fantasy football as if it's one of the products they should be selling.

My answer? Just shut up and watch the damn games on Sunday.

There.

Don't you love it when I come back full force? I'll try to be a better blogger. Thanks to those of you who are still with me.

Hang loose,
Double Vee

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