that pigskin sport

When did this country lose it’s collective balls?  When did we become such wimpy, little, girly men… or even worse, jabronis?  With more PG-13 action movies than we can physically count and the FCC willing to censor even Matlock, we’ve lost our voice.  Honestly, it’s surprising I’m allowed to write this blog while including words like titmouse and Hancock.  In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if men clad in reflective HazMat suits busted in to my apartment and torched my computer with industrial flame-throwers, Equilbium style.  Maybe some of you didn’t notice our current vulnerable state.  It’s okay.  A certain corporation wants it that way.  A corporation that has gotten away with this for far too long.  For this reason, I’m calling you out, Walt Disney.  Starting today, I’m waging war on Mickey Mouse and all his little goofy friends… especially Goofy.  You’re to blame for this mess.

Please, let me explain my hatred of one of America’s premier enterprises.  Simply put, Walt Disney is destroying our action stars.  One by one, they’re tricking our muscle-bound, dim-witted, gun-toting heroes into thinking light-hearted family movies that attempt to dish out life altering messages are good career moves.  Violence solves nothing, they say.  The most important part about parenting is just being there, they claim.   Bullshit.  Violence solves everything.  Clearly Disney has never seen the aforementioned movie, Equilbirium.  Please, explain to me how Christian Bale is suppose to take down a tyrannical government, armed with shotguns and samurai swords, if he’s going to his kid’s soccer games?  And it’d be pretty hard to save The Matrix and defeat Agent Smith if Neo spent all his time going to PTA meetings.  But maybe that’s just me.  What do I know?  I’m just a kid in his early twenties who still claims to be a college student.  It’s not like I watch movies.

We’re slowly losing our action stars to this fascist corporation and we’re all just sitting idly by while it happens.  What happened to you The Rock?  Since accepting a role in Disney’s: The Game Plan, you’ve become a shell of your former self.  Now, I turn on my television to see you donning a tutu and wings pretending to be a tooth fairy.  When you initially left the wrestling business to smash in tail-lights with a 4×4 as Johnny Knoxville stood awkwardly by, I supported you.  When you turned a non-Mortal Kombat video game in to a movie and it shockingly flopped, I stood by you.  Hell, even when you tried to revive a Mummy franchise not worth saving, I pleaded your case.  But now?  Now, you’re dead to me.  You should be smashing steel chairs over Triple H’s skull and calling people “steaming piles of monkey crap.”  Instead, you’re a cross-dressing, mythical being who places money under children’s pillows for their discarded teeth.  How you go from being on top of the sports entertainment world to six wine coolers and a mustache away from being caught in a southern California kitchen by Chris Hansen is beyond me.  Good career move.

And don’t think you’ve escaped my tirade Vin Diesel.  The Pacifier?  Babies?  Baby bottles strapped to you like grenades?  Vin Diesel should be punching hard surfaces and stiffly delivering confusing one liners, not changing diapers in a hilarious manner. (Note to readers: I have not seen, nor have plans to see the Pacifier, but let’s be honest, I’d bet my life on the inclusion of a diaper changing montage to the movie.)  Good career move.

I don’t even want to think of what is to come.  Luckily for you, I did:

-        This summer, Bruce Willis is… The Soccer Mom.

-        Ballet teacher by day, engaged parent by night, Jason Statham is… Desperate For Money… errr, I mean… The Dance Instructor.

-        Coming to theatres this fall, Sylvester Stallone is… Stay At Home Dad.

These truly are sad times.  If you’re a parent out there, do America a favor and boycott these movies.  For once, don’t think about your kids.  Think about the future of this once great nation.  Think of what we could be again.  And whatever you do, don’t let that damn mouse win.