Oh My God It's Almost Here

Yesterday I got a generous shoutout from the guys at sports/hot chicks blog (really, is there any other kind?) With Leather, which I'm pretty sure is run by Punte from venerable sports/dick joke blog (I guess that's the other kind) Kissing Suzy Kolber, a long time favorite of the staff here at JamesMarceda.com.

I'm very grateful for their support, but it puts a lot of pressure on me to produce. I wasn't planning on posting anything today because I didn't have time to write last night (improv class - yes, I'm in clown college) and I won't have time to write tonight (it's Friday, dipshits).

But noooooo, With Leather had to go and fucking blow up my spot, giving me a huge bump in traffic. Now I have to deliver the goods or I'm going to lose TENS AND TENS OF POTENTIAL READERS.

Thanks a lot, assholes.


But rather than whine about it (save the introduction to this post, obvi) I'm going to take this opportunity to let you guys get to know the real James Marceda. Since this is a new blog, you've only gotten a small taste of what I have to offer, and so far it tastes like a semi-coherent, drunken rambler with a monkey fetish.

But that's not all I'm about, you know. I don't always have to be a pissy little asshole. In fact, I can be jolly, exuberant, or even, if the mood strikes me, downright quasi-Favrish.

In that spirit, I would like to celebrate the coming weekend by listing (PEOPLE LOVE LISTS!) the top three things (THAT'S BARELY A FUCKING LIST, YOU PUSSY) I'm looking forward to this weekend. Feel free to add your own in the comments section.

3. Football Sunday

Sitting. And Drinking. And Farting. And Eating. (Sung to the tune of this.)

Wishing the players on your fantasy roster a slow and painful death. Watching giant beasts give each other premature Alzheimers for your satisfaction. Witnessing the NEW YORK FOOTBALL GIANTS STEAMROLL THE ENTIRE LEAGUE.



What else needs to be said?

2. Playoff Baseball
I know a lot of people hate baseball. They think it's boring. They think the players barely qualify as athletes. They think there are way too many games. Those complaints might all be valid, but NOT IN THE FUCKING PLAYOFFS.

Every pitch, every at bat, every jock strap adjustment, takes on a whole new meaning. Everything that happens is insanely important. Entire seasons are made or destroyed based on stupid shit like being able to hold a runner at first. During the regular season we boo if a pitcher throws over to first too many times, but during the playoffs its RIVETING THEATRE.

Playoff baseball is a beautiful, high-stakes ballet. Learn to appreciate it you fucking cretins.

Also, on a personal note, I'm going to enjoy watching the NEW YORK YANKEES STEAMROLL THE ENTIRE LEAGUE.



What else needs to be said?

1. Columbus Day

I don't know about the rest of you guys, but I have Monday off thanks to a genocidal maniac that had nothing to do with the founding of this country.

That means I can go balls out on Sunday and enjoy the ever loving shit out of it. Watch out, Sunday. I'm going ot relieve you of every last ounce of your shit with my raucous enthusiasm.

Alright, you've now seen the sunshine and rainbows James Marceda, and as you can probably tell, the effort almost killed me. I hope you assholes enjoyed it.

Have a good weekend, everybody. Here's something to put you in the right frame of mind (with bonus, improbable monkey content).