HOW TO SUBMIT: E-mail dimebag@dimemag.com with your question/story/idea and include your name and hometown.
I know I owe you a DimeBag, so withdraw the attack dogs and shelve your scathing words of antagonism. It’s here. Enjoy the next 10 minutes of ignoring your school/work responsibilities and join in on the pointless ramblings of usually un-resolvable and socially obscure quandaries.
Jesus Shuttlesworth, NY:
I won the Dime Ultimate Movie Baller Tournament! Whaddup!
Congratulations, Mr. Shuttlesworth. Let me take this opportunity to address some backlash regarding a one Sidney Deane. Many of you felt his absence from the tournament was appalling – shameful, even. A disgrace to Dime’s knowledge of basketball movies. Well, guess what? You’re wrong and I hate you.
Billy Hoyle was blatantly better than Sidney Deane throughout White Men Can’t Jump. For those of you who have forayed into the world of manly egoism, you know that half the battle of a game of one-on-one is mental maturity/stability. In such a short game, a bad attitude will find you sitting on the sidelines eating McDonald’s and complaining to officials with DeMarcus Cousins. Billy Hoyle was, and is (because his character is immortal, obviously) the master of trash talk. Even though it had that, “aw shucks” goading aura to it, it was manipulating and effective.
If you want to play the skill game, Hoyle did take down Deane at the beginning of the movie in a shooting contest. So there! But seriously, back to my insightful dissection of an important matter. Hoyle wins on swag. In a game of five-on-five, it’s not that big an issue. The swagging idiots get their buckets but kill their teams in the process. They foster selfishness and resentment, and pull the already non-existent team chemistry further apart. One-on-one just doesn’t have this. The mental edge is huge, especially when skill levels are generally the same. Should Hoyle have advanced to the finals? Maybe not – but he’s damn well pesky enough to pull something like that off.
James, Utah:
What percentage of people do you think actually wash their hands after going to the bathroom?
According to a quick Google search (I’m pretty sure if everyone’s Google search history were made public, we’d all be equally appalled. For instance, I searched “Hairy Indian man” one time only because someone told me that one of the Google Images of “Hairy Indian man” was someone he thought he knew. It wasn’t, but it’s forever in my search history. Feel free to share your weirdest searches in the comments – I’m sure I’ve done weirder, I just can’t remember.), only 82% of people wash their hands after using the bathroom. I only have to say one thing about that: It’s totally false.
The number is more like 40%. Don’t lie. If you’re alone in the bathroom, you don’t wash your hands. There’s no reason to, really. Sure, you may get a little extra drip on yourself, but do you really care? No. I constantly cough into my hands and do nothing. I pee and don’t wash my hands sometimes. Yep, I’m admitting it. And if you don’t, you’re lying. Because you and I both subscribe to the arbitrary rules of societal peer pressure. If other people are around, you totally change your behavior. When I’m alone in my home, I make weird noises and do all sorts of other stuff that no one wants to hear about. But we all do it. Either that or I’m just a total outlier that has unnecessarily gone public with my crude behavior. Whatever. I’m convinced I’m right.
Anyway, back to urination. Here’s where I have the real problem – people that, when in your company in the bathroom, don’t wash their hands. Honestly, I don’t even care about the supposed sanitary hazard. I’m just upset that I have to go back to my group of friends and feign outrage that I’ve witnessed such a travesty. Because for whatever reason we all feel the need to validate our subservience to societal rules even when it’s not in question (or true, for that matter). One of these days I’m going to count the amount of lies I tell in a day. And the worst part is I don’t even lie for a purpose. It just comes out for no reason. Like the other day I claimed to someone that I could chug a 32-ounce Gatorade in three seconds. Not at all true. Why did I do this? No clue. He wasn’t even that impressed – it was more of a “thanks for the random fact of the day” reaction. And now, for the rest of our relationship, I have to keep up this lie in case he ever tells someone. If I’m ever tested, I’m screwed.
One last note: The whole, “run your hands under water and ignore the soap dispenser” doesn’t count as washing your hands. If you’re going to make the effort to pretend to care about being sanitary, at least go all out. Go big or go home, that’s what I say.
Rachel, Maryland:
What really happens in these “seven hour” meetings where no progress is made?
Not a clue. It’s amazing how each side thinks it can continue to lowball the other and expect progress. Clearly, though, the highlight of this entire squabble was Dwyane Wade‘s outburst at Stern, claiming, “I’m not your child.” Amazing. Just pure awesomeness. You know Stern wanted to fine him on the spot, but wait! He couldn’t, since the owners locked out the players! Double-whammy! That one moment was years of pent up frustration at Stern’s dictatorial hand of dominance. You know how the NFL lockout taught us that everyone hates Goodell? Expect more of the same here. All we need is the NBA’s James Harrison (Rasheed Wallace) to publicly bash the commish. Then the cycle would be complete.
Maybe I’m alone in this, but am I the only one that laughs at the players’ constant resistance to the agent’s advice? Think of it this way: Players hire agents to negotiate their contracts. Agents negotiated contracts that heavily favored players. The owners got pissed that agents beat them at their own game and locked out the players in an attempt to use the CBA to offset their stupidity. Then, when the agents came to players with advice on handling these same owners who are signing the checks, they said, “no, no, we got this one covered.” It’s not like they’re dealing with the most important contract of their lives or anything. So, if I were in that room negotiating, I’d walk out, bring in World Wide Wes, and the like and get out of the way.
Forrest, Vermont:
Which of the Celtics’ Big Three is most washed up?
I was going to say KG, but then I heard that his obnoxious loudmouth attitude was spilling over to the CBA boardroom. In my mind, his glaring non-lack of motivation is a plus for his non-washedupness. I immediately dismissed Paul Pierce because he has managed to keep Boston relevant while, unbeknownst to seemingly everyone, he’s the Celtics’ only legitimate scoring option. Sure, KG can knock down a few fadeaways and Ray Allen is good for a few threes a game, but Pierce is the only one bringing it offensively night in and night out. I guess Rondo counts too, but we’ve all seen his jump shot. Then there’s Allen, who, in the last six or seven years, hasn’t changed a bit. So calling him washed up is unfair. He’s just no longer the main scoring option because he doesn’t have to be. So if I had to pick, I’d go with Jermaine O’Neal Kevin Garnett. Simply because his knees are shot and his once vaunted defensive intimidation is no longer intimidating when he moves like my middle school P.E. teacher. I really am okay with his whole spit-while-I-scream style, especially since he used to back it up. When his skills started to decline, he had two options: Temper his outbursts due to skill deficiency or keep up the charade and hope no one notices that he sucks. I admire him going with the latter, even if I hate his guts.
That’s all for this week. Check back next Wednesday for Volume VIII.
HOW TO SUBMIT: E-mail dimebag@dimemag.com with your question/story/idea and include your name and hometown. If you really insist on being a sketchy anonymous Internet weirdo, I guess I can’t stop you. So at least provide some sort of name and location.
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