Black&Black
Delivering Smiles
November 18, 2001.
In the middle of a shit, nightmare season, I'm at Ericsson Stadium, watching the Panthers and 49ers. I'm sitting behind this pussy 49ers fan with glasses - he looked just like "Michael Bolton" from Office Space. As Jeff Garcia proceeds to stick his gay little dick up our ass, this faggot in front of me turns around and says "you know, you guys aren't so far off. I mean that." Fucking jackass. My hands still shake when I think of this fucking queer.
But then, out of nowhere, our god damn shitty 1 win Panthers rally and take the lead. The disingenuous beta male suddenly shuts the fuck up. Quiet and submissive, he's likely pondering the fact the he wasted a cross country trip to see his team lose to the worst team in football, and one of the worst teams in NFL history. Not a damn word for a good, solid hour. Then, of course, the bottom falls out. The Panthers give up a late touchdown and two point conversion, and then lose in overtime. The disgusting, bespectacled faggot suddenly feels like being complementary again. "Hey, that was a great game! You guys aren't far off!" I look at him, right into his green eyes - right into his empty soul - but I say nothing. I turn and walk up the concrete steps towards the exit. Sixteen years later, I still think about this fucking dipshit. I will always think about him. I hope he's still alive, but I hope he's been beaten down by life. Hopefully, all of the worst things that can happen to a person have happened to him, and him alone. By extension, I hate all 49ers fans. I think they are a bunch of disgusting sodomites, and I'm glad the city of San Francisco lost the team. I'm glad they play in a shitty stadium 40 miles away. I'm glad they fired one of the best coaches on the planet. I wish them all nothing but the worst.
In the middle of a shit, nightmare season, I'm at Ericsson Stadium, watching the Panthers and 49ers. I'm sitting behind this pussy 49ers fan with glasses - he looked just like "Michael Bolton" from Office Space. As Jeff Garcia proceeds to stick his gay little dick up our ass, this faggot in front of me turns around and says "you know, you guys aren't so far off. I mean that." Fucking jackass. My hands still shake when I think of this fucking queer.
But then, out of nowhere, our god damn shitty 1 win Panthers rally and take the lead. The disingenuous beta male suddenly shuts the fuck up. Quiet and submissive, he's likely pondering the fact the he wasted a cross country trip to see his team lose to the worst team in football, and one of the worst teams in NFL history. Not a damn word for a good, solid hour. Then, of course, the bottom falls out. The Panthers give up a late touchdown and two point conversion, and then lose in overtime. The disgusting, bespectacled faggot suddenly feels like being complementary again. "Hey, that was a great game! You guys aren't far off!" I look at him, right into his green eyes - right into his empty soul - but I say nothing. I turn and walk up the concrete steps towards the exit. Sixteen years later, I still think about this fucking dipshit. I will always think about him. I hope he's still alive, but I hope he's been beaten down by life. Hopefully, all of the worst things that can happen to a person have happened to him, and him alone. By extension, I hate all 49ers fans. I think they are a bunch of disgusting sodomites, and I'm glad the city of San Francisco lost the team. I'm glad they play in a shitty stadium 40 miles away. I'm glad they fired one of the best coaches on the planet. I wish them all nothing but the worst.
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