Friday, February 22, 2019

If I Don't Die in West Virginia

Premeditating the precise location of your personal demise?  Sounds uplifting, eh?  Kinda reminds me of that Wang Chung classic... To Live and Die in L.A.

But on a more serious note.  Where would I prefer to die?  Well I dunno, you tell me.  A Long John Silver's dumpster would have a certain battered appeal.  Suffocated between Trump's fleshy, flabby, milky-orange buttocks?  That doesn't sound terribly promising. 

Those who know me well, would likely say, "Saf's ultimate fantasy is to be crush asphyxiated in a random human stampede at Heinz Field."  Yeah, right!  To explore the boundaries of the unknown.  Makes one shudder in respiratory distress.

These zany guys I know wrote a song.  If I Don't Die in West Virginia.  It kinda reminds me of Shawn Smith's Leaving California.  Most people know it as the song where Sil kills Aid in a Sopranos season finale. 

Now, if you can compose an all-encompassing "sports team intro," you got it made in the Sade.  Sweetest taboo, bitches!

Think in terms of Jack White, born in Detroit.  When he released Seven Nation Army back in 2003, about going to Wichita, Nebraska... could he have ever fathomed it would serve as the intro song for every national soccer team fifteen years later at the 2018 World Cup in Russia?

There's something irrevocably poignant about introducing a town, state or country into the title of your song.  Doesn't really mater what the genre is.  Country, rock, rap, it's all the same.  I Wanna be a Part of it New York New York, Sweet Home Alabama, Straight Outta Compton, and so on and so forth.

Remember that Limp Bizkit song, Show Me What You Got?  Their "throw in every town but the kitchen sink" strategy wasn't too bad.  Just mention any municipality known to man and make it as insightful as humanly possible.  I get silly when I play in Philly... Need a Kleenex every time I'm leavin' Phoenix... spit on a boy named Tina in Pasadena.  Truly brilliant.  Now there's a work of fart.

Makes me think.  Even though I now reside in Pittsburgh, maybe I could write a mega hit about West Virginia...

Fucked my sister and had a thrill out in Sistersville.  
Went hunting and got 'er done down in Huntington.  
Never got paid and felt kinda shitty leavin' Paden City.  
Got a chest rub from a child molester way up in Chester.  

Sometimes the best material literally writes itself.

Friday, February 01, 2019

Super Bowl 53 conspiracy theory #ATLSB53

I'll try to keep this brief.  Even though it will likely evolve/devolve into the biggest conspiracy in the history of mankind.

This Sunday is Super Bowl 53 at Mercedez Benz Stadium in Atlanta, GA.

Attendance will be approximately 77.500.

Around 6:25 pm, Gladys Knight will perform the national anthem.

During her rendition of the Star Spangled Banner, I think it's reasonable to conclude that a minimal number of players on the field will "take a knee"  (a convincing +400 prop bet on several offshore gaming sites).  But as far as taking a knee goes,  I'm thinking more along the lines of stadium security, team personnel, video techs, etc.  Doesn't really matter.

Meanwhile, down in South Florida, Donald Trump will be watching the game from Mar-A-Lago.  Upon seeing this heinous act of kneeling, he will become incensed.  And impetuously tweet the following...

(admittedly going way out on a limb with the misuse of "there", eh?)

As the game cuts away to commercial, an unusual crowd dynamic will take place inside the stadium.  One that is totally unanticipated.  One for which there is no contingency plan.  

A decentralized, wireless, bombardment of information will saturate the venue. 

Several hundred fans will defiantly start marching towards the concourses.  This will be live.

CBS will interrupt the commercial and immediately cut back to the stadium... as a number of fans believe their lives to be in imminent danger.  Clear and present danger.  Their behavior will trigger a broader panic.  People will run for the concourses.  Up and down steep steps.  Violently crowding the concourses and escalators. Again, this will be live.

The ensuing chaos will manifest itself via multiple, scattered, disjointed human stampedes throughout the stadium.

87 people will die. 1,500+ will be injured, 250 critically.

Super Bowl 53 will be cancelled... before the official kick off.

What happens next?  Are you seriously asking me to be more specific?

Listen up!  You ground-damn god-hog jag-off...

Hey, at this point, why would it matter?   Your guess is as good as mine.