Thursday, September 18, 2014

The life of Riley

So goddamn funny.
Whistler?  When was that?
So we're off again: this time to the Island.  Long, long story short we're going to be spending a couple of nights at the Yellow Point Lodge in Ladysmith.  Their mantra is "eat, sleep, read" whereas our mantra is a bit more like "eat, go, go, go, sleep".  Plus, at the YPL there's communal meals which I'm neither here nor there about, but Michael's not keen on it so I'm trying to sell him on the idea of creating fake personas.
We contemplated using the YPL's free shuttle to the ferry terminal, but we decided to bring our car and bikes just so we have the ability to take off if we're not feeling it at the lodge.
Anyways, I have no segue for this, but the NFL.  Ray Rice straight up cold cocks his then fiance in an elevator.  Adrian Peterson hits his kid (and maybe someone else's!).  This is all over the news.  It kind of reminds me of when Tiger got busted with his innumerable affairs: really?  We're shocked at this?  A really attractive, super successful, talented athlete who has women throwing themselves at his feet fucked around?  OH MY GOD stop the presses.  Rich, powerful, attractive people that have super sexy people willing to have sex with them sometimes have sex with them?  Whaaaaa?
Now we have a bunch of young guys on steroids who get paid to hit and tackle things for a living, and for whom aggression is a career advantage, are really rich and idolized, and we're surprised that they result to violence when they don't get what they want?  Mind blown.
I mean, it's not like they're trained to do a particular thing that doesn't fit into mainstream society (like, say, being a soldier and being trained to kill people) and then expected to fit into mainstream society.  Soldiers integrate really well when they come back from their tours, don't they?
I'm not saying that NFL players are like our soldiers that defend us here and overseas, but they are in a very specific environment that we can't even imagine, which is violence based and which if they excel at, they get paid more.
What's sad, is that if you believe this stat (and I haven't sussed it out, so quite possibly it is wildly wrong), the NFL's stats on domestic violence are actually lower than that of the general populace.
But, essentially, why is the visual of Rice punching his partner in the face the incident that is bringing to the forefront what women have been suffering through since the get go?  It takes this for domestic violence to make the headlines? 
In conclusion, if you haven't yet seen Bojack Horseman on Netflix, suck a dick, dumbshits!
#fourdayweekend

3 comments:

  1. Having once been in an abusive relationship, I all I can say is catch him off guard like he did you and that shit would stop. When I stared hitting back, and hitting back hard... with big rings and shit, that bully thought twice about hitting me. That's what they are, BULLIES. Then you need to get out, he hits you once, he'll hit you again. Now days I'm older and haven't had the need to punch anyone, so I say pop a cap in his ass! True gentlemen don't hit things. Women WANT to be in a relationship with gentlemen, not bullies.

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  2. It's sort of a weird society that we've built up on football and models and what men and women and athletes are supposed to be. And it's troubling that women are still - in a lot of ways - second class citizens in 2014.

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  3. Bojack is my idol

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