Beyonce, No

Last week's post on Kobe's faux pax and the subject matter of this week's entry are leading me to believe that I am fully committed to being unequivocally hated by my sister and my fellow homogays.  That's right.  I listened to Beyonce's recently leaked single, "Girls (Who Run the World)."  And you know what?  It's craptastic.  And by "craptastic" I don't mean it in that "Oh my god, what a vacuous, yet catchy new Beyonce song.  I think I'll shake my ass" type way.  I mean "craptastic" in that "Neither the world's most powerful wind machine nor all the of glitter in the world could save this dissonant shit" type way.

The F-bomb

Seriously, folks, I want to put my basketball blogs in the Disney vault, but since it's the only thing I find worth watching, I kind of have to continue writing about the sport. Go with what I know.  Last week, Kobe Bryant got into all kinds of trouble for spazzing the bleep out at a referee after a call went against him.  Bryant received a technical foul for arguing with the official--NBA don't play that--but since he's a brat and a superstar he wasn't tossed from the game for violently, angrily heading to the bench, hitting his chair and a teammate, and throwing his towel.

Perhaps if the refs had tossed him from the game like they should have, the cameras wouldn't have caught Bryant calling the referee a "fucking faggot."  As always, here's the video:



Uh-oh.  

Detox

For the last couple of weeks, I've been detoxing.  That's right.  No cheeseburgers, no jibaritos, no vanilla malts.  First a vegan diet, then a raw one, now a vegetable juice fast.  Although some of the stuff I've had tastes like ass terrible, I did enjoy much of it.  Coconut water, an acquired taste for many, can be mildly addictive #teamvitacoco.  I'm very proud of myself for making it this far.  Heretofore, I've had very little food discipline.  I derive way too much pleasure from eating, I guess.  I tried The Master Cleanse for all of six hours, only to end up breaking that fast by eating a delicious, delicious hot dog.  The idea of syrup and cayenne pepper or whatever was ridiculous to me anyway.

Bracket Buster

I know, I know.  I really, really need to stop blogging about basketball.  What can you expect from me if it's practically the only thing I watch these days?  Seriously, I'm going to start weening myself off of March Madness.  I have got to kick this college basketball jones.  This will be hard, but I have to do it.  I didn't fill out a bracket this year--a good sign.  And I only watched, maybe, fewer than a handful of games.  I imagine that I'll peek at tonight's final between Butler and UConn.  After that, though, I really need to change my viewing habits or something. Not that that will do anything but help me avoid being entertained by such blatant exploitation.

Last week, I caught Frontline's twenty-minute segment on the business of March Madness.  A story from the obvious files?  Perhaps.  Yet I had not seen a story that delineated the situation as clearly as this report did.  Here's the link.