Once you all genuflect, we can begin.
OK, sorry to keep you hanging...
One of my fellow clergymen, the Rev. Al Sharpton, is calling for the head of Kelly Tilghman (right), the Golf Channel play-by-play woman who recently made an unfortunate choice of words when describing the only way for young golfers to defeat Tiger Woods.
Ms. Tilghman said something about how these young players would need to "lynch him in a back alley" in order to compete with Mr. Woods.
Tilghman is taking a two-week break from what I must assume is the grueling profession of golf play-by-play coverage. Al was hoping for a permanent vacation, and I'm not talking about that awesome 1987 Aerosmith album here.
For the record, Tiger isn't all that upset about it. Also, her remark doesn't drip of ill will nor does it come off as mean-spirited. She didn't call Tiger a ho, nor did she describe him as "nappy-headed."
But so what?!
You see, my man TRASh (The Rev. Al Sharpton to the unwise) has opened my eyes to deep-seated racism. If I understand TRASh's teachings correctly, these haters (as opposed to hatas) have been hiding in plain sight for years!
I now call the following offenders to stand tall before the man, for names found to be offensive by those looking to be offended by just about anything that breathes:
David Lynch, director of such "acclaimed" films as The Elephant Man, Blue Velvet, Wild at Heart, and Mulholland Dr.
Evanna Lynch, that pixie in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
George Lynch, revered axe man from the hard-rock outfit Dokken
George Lynch, two-bit basketball player
Jessica Lynch, the military miss who was but a pawn in the U.S. war machine's propaganda factory
John Lynch, hard-hitting safety for the Tampa Bay Bucs and Denver Broncos
Marshawn Lynch, star rookie running back for the Buffalo Bills
Merrill Lynch, which provides capital markets services, investment banking and advisory services, wealth management, asset management, insurance, banking, and related products and services worldwide.
And last but not least, Da Lench Mob, a bunch of apparent self-loathing rappers who try to disguise their true motives by misspelling the offensive word, hoping it will slip past unsuspecting consumers and glazed-eyed copy editors.
The world will be a much better place once these people accept the consequences of such inflammatory surnames and band handles. They must each apologize to the Rev. Al Sharpton in person (and Tiger Woods, if time permits), and then petition the court to change their names to something less antagonizing — perhaps to something such as Coltrane. And if they won't play ball? Round 'em up and put them in camps — a sound solution to eradicate prejudice.
Makes sense, right? TRASh?
And now, it's time for another priceless pep talk FOR Peyton Manning.
I hear you're bummed about losing in the playoffs again. Hey, don't get down on yourself. Losing at home to the second-string Chargers, that could happen to anybody. Plus, you're destined to be seen throughout the playoffs! That's right! Little bro Eli can probably get you tickets to watch him get his ass handed to him in Green Bay. Even if he can't come through, I hear the Cowboys have a bunch of extra tickets that their owner bought for them!And in between moments of greatness orchestrated by Brett Favre and Tom Brady on Feb. 3, there you'll be, up on the screen, pitching plasma TVs and credit cards and any other fucking thing that offers you a dollar. Anyway, I look forward to seeing you in the stands with the family watching Eli get worked. All I ask is that you and Cooper wear different shirts, so I can tell you apart.
This has been another priceless pep talk by the Rev. Ug. Hopefully you still feel shitty, just not as bad as before.
Might be time to rewrite some rap lyrics, because a recent report says it's Nuttin' But a HGH Thang. Yeah, sumthin' like that. (NWA!)
While rappers such as 50 Cent and Mary J. Blige (!!!) might have jeopardized their career or good standing (or whatever) after being implicated in a steroids investigation (read the New York Times story here), they could always find work hitting home runs for a pennant contender. (If nothing else, click on the link to see Timbaland's guns. Holy Christ.) As a member of my congregation told me, this might explain all the shoot-'em-up stories we read involving these songmeisters: roid rage!
I just read that Brad Renfro died. I'll never watch Bully or Ghost World in the same way. I'll never watch any other movie starring Brad Renfro...period. (Well, maybe Sleepers. De Niro as a man of the cloth! Amen, brother!)
0 comments:
Post a Comment