We’re in the slowest stretch of the offseason now: the dreaded post-draft period. There’s no football on, and there won’t be football on for quite some time. You’re angry. You’re hateful. We understand. At KSK, we’re hateful too. Of all things, at all times. Hating is what we do best. So, in that spirit, I’d like to present you with our new off-topic offseason feature…
THIS WEEK IN FUCK YOU.
Every week or so, we’ll be taking our lack-of-football-related depression out on any number of deserving targets: people, things, abstract ideas, group dinners, etc. It’s just the kind of cathartic invective we excel at. This week, UMBRELLAS.
I FUCKING HATE UMBRELLAS.
It’s rained damn near every day this spring, but I would legitimately rather get soaking wet and catch pneumonia than carry around a fucking umbrella. The only time an umbrella ever works is if you happen to be in the middle of a rainstorm that has no wind activity of any kind. Otherwise, that fucking thing becomes a goddamn drag chute. Hey, let me hold on for dear life as I constantly try and recalibrate where to position the mini-tarp over my head! WHEE!
And God forbid you actually try and enter a fucking car with one of these things. Especially if you have something else in your hand. Here, let me put this bag in the car while the umbrella creates a makeshift waterfall over my goddamn head. How refreshing. Now, let me sit in the driver’s seat and lean out of the car so that I can fold the umbrella back up, so that it may then catch one of its tines on the fucking door and then give my legs a water bukkake. That’s pleasant.
I also enjoyed trying to walk on New York City sidewalks on rainy days, when very short, very old people with umbrellas happy tried to gouge my fucking eyes out as they walked in the middle of the fucking sidewalk. “Hey, it’s raining! Let’s abandon any sense of decorum when it comes to other people on the sidewalk! Let me bump into the first person I see, so that he gets absolutely fucking doused.” GOD FUCKING DAMMIT.
One time, I used one of those ten-dollar umbrellas to walk from the subway to my apartment in a sideways rainstorm. When I got into the lobby of my building, I proceeded to kick the ever-loving shit out of that umbrella. I bashed it against the wall seven times, stomped on it, and screamed obscenities at it.
“YOU STUPID FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT. FUCK YOU. DIE! FUCKING DIE! DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE!”
This was easily one of the ten most gratifying moments of my existence. I will do it again. Soon.
I hate umbrellas of all kinds. I hate golf umbrellas. Hey fuckwit, you’re trying to protect your clubs. You’re not holding a wedding under that fucking thing.
I hate parasols.
I hate Umbros. Wear real shorts, douche.
And I really fucking hate beach umbrellas. “Here Drew, let me load you up with ONE MORE GODDAMN THING TO CARRY. Just one more thing on the pile of coolers and chairs and paddle games and whatever else we can fucking stack on your head. Let’s go to a sunny beach, and then defeat the purpose of going to that beach by lying in the fucking shade. Ooh, ooh! And let’s make sure the wind catches our giant umbrella of death and sweeps it far away, where the spiked end might impale a young child. Aren’t you glad we brought this stupid fucking useless piece of shit? LET’S BRING TWO.”
I hate the song “Umbrella.” Ay. Ay. Ay. Ay. Ay. AY, GO FUCK YOURSELF, HONEY.
Umbrellas have been around since Egyptian times, and I find it incredible that no one since then has found a way to improve on their basic design. They fucking suck. The only cool thing about umbrellas are the cheap ones that extend when you push the button on the handle. I like to pretend I’m shooting a crossbow when I do that. But for the purpose of protecting you from the rain, THEY EAT HOG.
To the ancient Egyptian assface that designed the umbrella: FUCK YOU. I know you’re really dead now, but just know that I wish you were somehow EVEN MORE REALLY DEAD. You pyramid-building, beetle-worshipping dick. Your invention is one of those little tiny things that makes life worse for no good reason.
And to you old people wildly swinging your umbrellas to and fro on the sidewalk, and who bust out umbrellas even when there’s a light drizzle outside: DOUBLE FUCK YOU. You’re gonna die soon, and that’s good. Just because you’re too fucking lazy to wear a rain slicker doesn’t mean you get to casually deposit all the water collected on top of your umbrella onto my shirt. I WILL FUCKING CHOKE YOU WITH YOUR OWN CURVED HANDLE. The fuck are you so afraid of, anyway? OH NO, WATER DROPLETS! I’M MELTING! OH, WHAT A WORLD!!!
And fuck you too, Travelers Group. Your umbrella doesn’t protect me from SHIT.
DIE. DIE FOREVER AND TAKE YOUR FUCKING LONDON FOG UMBRELLA WITH YOU.
I hate umbrellas.