Sunday, December 19, 2010

They're Specialists to Whom We've Come with Our Shabby Guilts and Petty Crimes to Be Killed with Exquisite Kindness

Did you know Washington DC has a professional soccer team?

It's true! Last Spring they traded away Fredsux, a top draft pick, and allocation money for the rights to a once-shiny but high-priced Troy Perkins, who sucked and was benched. Three days ago United traded Perkins to Portland (someone suggested Perkins would end up in Portland, yo) for a USL journeyman keeper and allocation money.

"Someone had to take the fall for our season," said Perkins, who, until five months leading up to the 2010 World Cup, was the U.S. national team's third-string keeper. "I'm the goalkeeper and I'm going to be blamed for a lot -- that comes with the position. I'm not saying I had a good year; I had a terrible year. They've seen me at my best and at my worst, but I just think [new coach Ben Olsen] wants to build his own team. I understand that."

Ben Olsen? Ben Olsen drove this decision? Troy, Liebshen, you got LOUD SIDE! so you've a lifetime pass, but either the reporter put a different name in the parenthesis than you meant or you're a motherfucking moron.

Today marks the start of Blegsylvania's second slowest week of the year. I'm finally movng inside the Beltway of greater Whogivesafuckburg. Whether I ever get downtown remains to be seen, though it remains the goal. That should but probably won't bleed the required bleggalgazing for the week, this shitty blog's shitty central tension. Still, again and as always, thank you very much for the Kind.


Vern Rustula

We sit in a room armored by light and surrounded 
by surfaces bright as mirrors. Everything shines and 
gives comfort, nothing is out of place and our hosts, 
too, are immaculate, each hair placed with the skill of 
a jeweler. Our words flutter and fail, too dusty, while 
theirs flow out in perfect paragraphs. We wonder why 
they invited us, disheveled and in tatters as we are, to 
enter their lives. Should we confess our unworthi-
ness? And oh we want to scour our brains for some 
small accomplishment but find nothing worthy, noth-
ing to equal the gleaming parquet of their smiles. 
They are so well-bred we can't believe our good luck, 
all our gnarled deceits brought here to be honored! 
And then, suddenly, we know: They're specialists to 
whom we've come with our shabby guilts and petty 
crimes to be killed with exquisite kindness.


  1. You keep tricking me into clicking Washington Poop links!

    Please please please please please.

    I'm sure he'll get the shrieking harpy's vote, but I wonder how he'll do with the wingnuts he hasn't given mustache rides to?

  2. Neko Case? Meh. Go apologize to Earthgirl. And Ilse, for that matter.

    I don't know WTF "inside the Beltway" and "downtown" mean, but here's a, never mind. It's your blog. My bad. Totally. Twit.

  3. Sadly, No! is in on the act.

    Fred Hiatt and company are constantly searching for ways to make their editorial page even worse. And somehow, they keep succeeding.

  4. Thanks, man, I'm glad. I think it must have had something to do with linking to Floyd - it sounded exactly what I get when I go there sometime.

  5. Maybe he thinks his mustache will frighten people into voting for him. See, I was hoping I'd be the first with my John Bolton mustache joke, because then it would've been funny. C'est la vie.