What Really Grinds My Gears


You Know What Really Grinds My Gears (named after the segment on Family Guy, of course) is a new feature that will run whenever the fuck we want it to…but usually on a slow news day. It will focus on those pet peeves that, well, really grind your gears. It likely won’t be sports-related. Fuck sports. This isn’t a sports blog anyway…Oh. Right. Um, yeah, we’ll see about making them sports-related. If you have any suggestions — or would even like to guest write one! — send your submissions to zachls5@gmail.com or Ballhype us or something Internet-y like that.

You know what really grinds my gears? Valentine’s Day.

What a bullshit holiday. Hallmark can go suck my ass for creating such a crapfest of an “event.”

Valentine’s Day is a lose-lose situation for pretty much every guy.

If you have a girlfriend/wife, good for you. You get to spend $100 on a shitty Helzberg diamond, $15 on Russell Stover’s shit and then $80 at an overpriced, crowded restaurant. Maybe — just maybe — she’ll give you a little head before you fornicate.

And if you don’t have a girlfriend, well fuck. You’re constantly reminded how seldom you get laid and that you’re a pathetic loser with no friends, a lousy job and an inverted penis; for this one day, the world is against you.

Why can’t everyday be Love Day? Hell, pick a random Wednesday in October and I’ll give my girlfriend a night out on the town, spoil the shit out of her and make love to her like a GI just back from WWII. And I’m OK with that. It’s not that I dislike treating my girl great — I love that shit (and it often results in awesomeness in the bedroom). I just hate Valentine’s Day — and societal fucking norms — telling me that on Feb. 14 I have to treat my girl extra special.

Then there’s the weird shit on Valentine’s Day. Like when you’re in 3rd grade and you give valentines and those chalk-candy hearts to everyone in your class. For me it was OK because even when I was 9 I wanted to fuck just about every girl in my class. But for monogamists out there, that was probably pretty weird. And I also gave valentines to my teachers, which is sorta strange in a fetish-y kind of way.

Also, sometimes I have relatives that expect royal treatment from me on Valentine’s Day. Like grandparents. Am I supposed to send a card? There’s a place for that — like a birthday. But Valentine’s Day should just be between two lovers. When you get children and grandparents involved, that just muddies the water.

So happy Valentine’s Day, motherfuckers. At least you only have to put up with this shit once a year.

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What Really Grinds My Gears


You Know What Really Grinds My Gears (named after the segment on Family Guy, of course) is a new feature that will run whenever the fuck we want it to…but usually on a slow news day. It will focus on those pet peeves that, well, really grind your gears. It likely won’t be sports-related. Fuck sports. This isn’t a sports blog anyway…Oh. Right. Um, yeah, we’ll see about making them sports-related. If you have any suggestions — or would even like to guest write one! — send your submissions to zachls5@gmail.com or Ballhype us or something Internet-y like that.

You know what really grinds my gears? People who write dashes instead of swear words, like f— or sh–.

That’s bullshit. I know what you’re saying. What do those dashes do that the actual letters don’t? It’s like if I wrote, “I went to t– store to buy some m–k.” It doesn’t make any fucking sense.

I’ve often seen headlines in newspaper or on websites that read something like, “Brady is a real b-tch,” or “Manning is a f—ing douchenob.” The article or whatever then proceeds to swear like Billy Bob Thorton in Bad Santa. That makes as much sense as Pirates of the Caribbean: At Worlds End. If you’re going to use naughty language in the body of the story, why avoid it in the headline?

It’s not that swearing is a good thing. I’m the last person to condone that shit. But if you’re going to swear, come out and say it. Your dashes don’t fool me, man. I’m easily fooled, but I’m not falling for you game this time.

So liberate yourself. Speak your mind. Say the real words. It’ll make everybody feel better. No secrets, no dirty laundry, no holding back. Let yourself go. The world will be a better place.

What Really Grinds My Gears


You Know What Really Grinds My Gears (named after the segment on Family Guy, of course) is a new feature that will run whenever the fuck we want it to…but usually on a slow news day. It will focus on those pet peeves that, well, really grind your gears. It likely won’t be sports-related. Fuck sports. This isn’t a sports blog anyway…Oh. Right. Um, yeah, we’ll see about making them sports-related. If you have any suggestions — or would even like to guest write one! — send your submissions to zachls5@gmail.com or Ballhype us or something Internet-y like that.

You know what really grinds my gears? These new game shows.

TV programming is getting butt slammed by the writer’s strike, so networks are turning towards cheap, easy-to-produce television which has resulted in the stupidest fucking shows ever. (Note: I haven’t watched any of them, I’m simply playing the odds, inherently knowing that watching porn with six other dudes would be more enjoyable than watching 1 vs. 100).

Are You Smarter than a 5th Grader? Who the fuck are you to ask me that, FOX? Is the sky blue? Is your shit brown? I’m in fucking 18th grade, if such a thing existed. I’m smarter than a fucking 7th grader at least, asshole.

There’s also Duel, which is hosted by Mike Greenberg. Super.

And CBS’ Power of 10 is actually about my cock.

This new wave of primetime game shows is dragging the good name of classic game shows through the dirt. Remember the good ol’ days of Family Feud (not the version with Louie Anderson. He’s more annoying than hangnails. Ray Combs was the fucking man!), The $10,000 Pyramid and the original The Price is Right? Those shows were a.) awesome and b.) not in fucking primetime. I could watch those when I was sick and stayed home from school and then I could watch my fucking 90210 and Seinfeld at night, when real TV is supposed to be on.

These writers on strike are really bending over the collective TV audience. They fucking grind my gears as much as the shitty programming that’s a result.

The answer to all of this is really porn. Just go out and rent lots of pornography. Or watch sports, which has always been the best game show of them all.

What Really Grinds My Gears


You Know What Really Grinds My Gears (named after the segment on Family Guy, of course) is a new feature that will run whenever the fuck we want it to…but usually on a slow news day. It will focus on those pet peeves that, well, really grind your gears. It likely won’t be sports-related. Fuck sports. This isn’t a sports blog anyway…Oh. Right. Um, yeah, we’ll see about making them sports-related. If you have any suggestions — or would even like to guest write one! — send your submissions to zachls5@gmail.com or Ballhype us or something Internet-y like that.

You know what really grinds my gears?
Holiday cards.
I mean, what the fuck? I don’t care if you’re sending me your Christmas, Hanukkah, Thanksgiving, or Labor Day card. I don’t want to stare at your family on a vacation, or by the fire place, or with fingers in each other’s asses.

Really, what a pompous thing to do: “Look how perfect my family is.” I could give two shits about your family. I don’t care that you have a fucking Yellow Lab and your baby is adorable. That kid’s gonna turn in to a coked-out, cum-gargling hooker anyway. So fuck you.

What if I took a picture of my balls and sent that out? Nothing says Happy Hanukkah like a fat nut sack. It’s better than taking a posed photo with my family and then sending it out so all of the other families know that ours isn’t quite as dysfunctional as theirs.

And while we’re on the topic of holidays, you know what else fucking grinds my gears? Nativity scenes.

That’s just fucking strange. And when you put it up in your front yard? Yikes. Try a basketball hoop or white picket fence. Nativity scenes scream, “Wackos live here.”

Seen the movie Arlington Road? You should. Good movie. Anyway, one seemingly happy family (with a cheerful couple of Tim Robbins and Joan Cusack as the parents) are actually terrorists and fucking creepy as hell. They’re the type of family that would put a Nativity scene up come Christmas time.

“Jingle Bells” fucking does some grinding too, but you already know that.

So if you’re thinking about sending out your Holiday Card, well, don’t. You’re family isn’t really that happy, not really that attractive, and certainly not that functional. Instead, send me a picture of your wife. Naked.

And that, people, is what really grinds my gears.

What Really Grinds My Gears


You Know What Really Grinds My Gears (named after the segment on Family Guy, of course) is a new feature that will run whenever the fuck we want it to…but usually on a slow news day. It will focus on those pet peeves that, well, really grind your gears. It likely won’t be sports-related. Fuck sports. This isn’t a sports blog anyway…Oh. Right. Um, yeah, we’ll see about making them sports-related. If you have any suggestions — or would even like to guest write one! — send your submissions to zachls5@gmail.com or Ballhype us or something Internet-y like that.

You know what really grinds my gears?

People who use their brights on the freeway.
That’s fucking stupid. It’s like turning on a flashlight in the middle of the day.

Now I’m not talking about one of those deserted highways where if your car breaks down, you’ll end up walking to a hotel where you’ll be killed, raped or killed then raped. If you use your brights on one of those roads, you’re prolonging your life. All the power to you.

I’m talking about the freeway. With lots of fucking cars and lots of street lamps and shit. Then turning on your brights fucking grinds my gears.

I mean, is the douche who’s tailgating me trying to get in an accident? I look in the rear view mirror and I’m blinded by his lights. That’s bullshit. I don’t go up to a coworker and start flashing a light in his eyes. That’s for doctors and assholes.

Flashing your brights on the freeway is different. I do that shit all the time. Especially in Seattle where everyone drives like a student driver. I’ll come up behind a cockweasel who’s doing 55 in the fast lane. I’ll flash my brights at him to change lanes so I can continue driving like a person who has a sack. If he moves over, a courteous wave follows; flashing the brights worked. If he doesn’t get over, I’ll honk as I pass him, take down his license plate number, track him down and kill his fucking dog. (Just kidding. I love dogs. But his cat is fucking toast.)

So don’t use your brights on the freeway. There are reflectors, lamps and other cars to illuminate the road just fine. If you keep those lights on, and you hurt my eyes, well, you’ve officially grinded my gears.

And that, people, is what really grinds my gears.

What Really Grinds My Gears


You Know What Really Grinds My Gears (named after the segment on Family Guy, of course) is a new feature that will run whenever the fuck we want it to…but usually on a slow news day. It will focus on those pet peeves that, well, really grind your gears. It likely won’t be sports-related. Fuck sports. This isn’t a sports blog anyway…Oh. Right. Um, yeah, we’ll see about making them sports-related. If you have any suggestions — or would even like to guest write one! — send your submissions to zachls5@gmail.com or Ballhype us or something Internet-y like that.

You know what really grinds my gears?

Tipping a bartender for a bottle of beer.

That’s fucked up. It’s like reverse-etiquette bending you over and sticking a Louisville Slugger in your ass.

I know you’re supposed to tip a bartender, it’s how they make their money, yada, yada yada. But sometimes they have to work for a tip, they can’t just expect it.

Like say I walk in to Trendy Bar A where I have to pay $5 for a Bud Light. Paying $5 for a Bud Light fucking grinds my gears too, but that’s for different post.

So I pay my five bucks and then have to tip the bar keep a buck to twist off the fucking cap?! That’s bogus, man. I mean, I guess you’re paying for the service and courtesy of some one twisting that cap off for you. Sometimes I need to use my shirt, and then I look like a fucking pussy. Nobody ever wants to look like a pussy. Especially out at a bar.

Now, what if I’m ordering some local microbrew from the tap? Then I’m paying for the douchebag bartender to tilt my fucking pint glass while he pulls a lever? That’s sorta messed up too.

If he’s gonna make me a Martini or a Mojito or put some top shelf rum in my Rum ‘n’ Coke instead of the crap on the rail, then I’ll happily tip him. I’ll even send a hooker his way if that’s what he wants. I want to be able to feel good about giving a tip.

Once I was at a trendy Irish bar that sucked my cock. I fucking hate this bar, yet often end up there. I ordered a shitty bottle of beer and it was like $4.50. Even though all the bartender did was twist off the cap, I still tipped him, even though it fucking grinded my gears. I respect etiquette, even when it assrapes me.

But I gave him a five, he gave me back 50 cents and I left the two quarters on the counter. He looked at me, gave me fuck-you eyes, and then splashed the coins back in my direction.

That really fucking grinded my gears. Asshole was expecting a buck for twisting off a cap. That’s bullshit. Work for your tip. I’m gonna fucking end that guy. He was a total cock-weasel who has an inverted penis.

Yeah, so tipping for a bottle of beer is pretty week. Especially when they expect it. That’s fucked. Asshole bartenders suck, too.

And that, people, is what really grinds my gears.

What Really Grinds My Gears

You Know What Really Grinds My Gears (named after the segment on Family Guy, of course) is a new feature that will run whenever the fuck we want it to…but usually on a slow news day. It will focus on those pet peeves that, well, really grind your gears. It likely won’t be sports-related. Fuck sports. This isn’t a sports blog anyway…Oh. Right. Um, yeah, we’ll see about making them sports-related. If you have any suggestions — or would even like to guest write one! — send your submissions to zachls5@gmail.com or Ballhype us or something Internet-y like that.

You know what really grinds my gears?

Brady Leaf.

I mean, have you ever played organized football? You looked like your brother out there. A fucking quadriplegic could throw better than you.

Brady Leaf is nobody’s friend. If Brady Leaf were an ice cream flavor, he’d be pralines and dick.

Pinch your penis, ass clown. That’s the last time you’ll touch it. Or any one will touch it. You will never feel the warmth of a woman again. The ladies at Oregon will turn to masturbation and lesbianism before sleeping with you. They don’t fuck losers.

I don’t even like Oregon, but watching you “play” is like watching a fucking glacier melt. Throwing three-yard dump passes with the clock ticking down grinds my gears. That’s bullshit, man. Throw it downfield. You should have benched yourself. Jonathan Stewart could play QB better than you.

So enjoy being a failure. It runs in the family.

And that, people, is what really grinds my gears.