Thursday, March 16, 2006

Even We Know That's Not How You Play Football

We went bowling last night, at Leisure Time, the secret bowling alley hidden in the Port Authority. They give you "Towers of Beer" at your table, and there is a DJ who asks Oscar trivia questions as you bowl. It might be the very strangest place in America.

We are very bad at bowling. We don't know why, but we imagine it is for gay reasons. Limp wrists do not lend themselves to proper form, it seems. For some reason we just can't manage to bowl "straight." The balls we are used to handling are usually a bit smaller. The last time we rammed a candlestick, we were shoving it up the ass of a huge black man named Yummy, etc, etc.

But it made us think about sports. In high school and college, we excelled at crew, track, and cross country. The connection between all of those things? No balls. We, like many gay people, cannot interact properly with baseballs, basketballs, soccer balls, or footballs.

So this brings us to FAGAT Guide Rule #2:

Do not throw things to gay people.

If you're in the office and need to pass the tape to the fag across the cubicle, for God's sake, get up and walk over there. Lending a pen? Slide it across the floor. Scissors? Just get him his own pair, he's just going to use them to trim his happy trail, anyway.

Because gay people, as a race, cannot catch. Go ahead and test this out. Find a queer and say "Hey, CATCH!" Will he toss up his hands in basket formation? No. He will shriek, cover his face, and crouch in terror.

Obviously, there is one situation where this catching theory does not apply. But even that involves a fair share of crouching, and shrieking...


Adam said...

I'd argue if I could. Mine like to make ominous movements with cans of soda, threatening to toss them my way. I take refuge underneath my cubicle whenever that happens.

Tristan said...

I tried your little game and I just killed a fag !

Gunn said...

This is a lie. I can catch fine, thankyouverymuch.
Throwing, however....

Frank said...

Probably has something to do with the trauma of childhood gym classes.