This was supposed to be my year. I was finally going to do something. Be something. Win something. But then I had to go and screw it up.

Figures. That seems to be a pattern of mine. Never seeming to get much of anything right. I don't know why. It's not like I try to screw it up or anything. It's just, well, it happens, I guess. Maybe this just wasn't my year.

But it had to be my year! It had to! For the first time in a long time, no, for the first time in forever, I was ready! Or, at least, I thought I was. I guess I wasn't. Rather, I know I wasn't. Or else I wouldn't be here, dragging these dumb stupid feet all across town.

I guess the worst part about it is her. Sure, me not qualifying was a big punch in the stomach and all that, but her, her, her getting in, well that was just plain stupid. She doesn't even like the stupid sport. She's never even tried. And here she comes, waltzing right in, and bam, straight to nationals. That's just not fair.

But not much in my life has ever been fair. Really fair, that is. Scratch that. Nothing in my life has ever been fair. It's not that life's not fair, no, it seems pretty fair to everyone else. It's just me. For some reason or another, fate and I just don't seem to get along. It's not like I don't try, I really do. I pray and give to charity and always nice to my neighbors and all that shit. Yet here I am, lost in the middle of fucking nowhere, while my goddamn girlfriend goes on to compete in the goddamn championships!

It's just not fair.

I guess I'm not all that surprised. Did I really think someone like me could ever compete in something like...like...like that? No, I could never do that. I'm not good enough. I've never been good enough. And by the looks of it, I never will be.

But what really bites my knees, what really puts my noggin in a scatty wagon, is her. Why did she have to compete? Why did she even want to? She doesn't even like the damn thing. Furthermore, what makes her so good at it? I'm just as good, if not even better. But I guess that doesn't much really matter when your a boy and she's a girl.

She gets to compete against them. And me, what do I have to do? I have to compete against those...those...those...things. Boys, men, monsters, savages! Whatever the fuck their called. It's just not fair.

At this point, I realize I'm totally and completely lost. Not that I don't know where I'm going or anything like that, I have a pretty great sense of direction. I suppose it's really that I'm not completely sure. I mean, like, I know, but I don't know know, you know?

The rough, stoic pavement stretches out in four cumbersome directions, spreading sparsely north, east, west, and yes, even that goddamn direction of south. I never want to go south again. Not even if my goddamn life depends on it. Nope, not even for her.

Sure, I love her and all that, but I'm not crazy. If they don't want me, they can't have me. It's really their lost, not mine. I'm not even at peak condition. No, you give a good 'nother year, and I'll be beating all those punks. I'll swim faster, jump higher, run farther, the whole 9 yards. And what will they say? "Oh, can't we just forget about that whole incident! What were we thinking recruiting your good for nothing girlfriend? We were so stupid not to see the real talent on the field! We should've drafted you the moment we saw you! I for one always thought you would be great! It was these other numb nuts that ever thought differently. But now they see! Now they all see!"

Yes, that's exactly what they'll say. With their bright green suits and blue suede shoes. They'll be all over me like donkey kong. Hell, even that fuckup princess peach won't have a thing on me! They just need time to learn. Time to see things how they are. I'm sure my girlfriend will show them how it is. Not like she's at good at much of anything anyways.

But then, why are you here and she there? Why are you wallowing past another corner and another tennis court while she goes around prancing and throwing, and hell, probably even winning. Shit, what did I ever do to deserve this?

Where am I, anyhow? Wasn't I supposed to turn at the tennis courts, just past the industrial mall? Or was it before the tennis courts? Was it at the second or third tennis court? Why the hell are there so many fucking tennis courts?! What the fuck is up with that?

There sure are a lot of people around here. What is this, a bridge? No, it's a ramp. Like the kind you see for old people and the disabled and all that. Shit, this is a real nice ramp. What is that sound over there? Is that music? Yes! I think it is! Well shit, they got the good stuff too!

Don't tell anybody this, but I've always been a secret admirer of those roaring twenties. Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Picasso, Sinatra. Shit, that must've been the life. I never thought I'd hear music like that again. That is, outside my house. No one has much sense of anything these days. Playing that bullshit pop-funk-folk shit and all that. There doesn't seem to be a damn ear in the country.

But these guys, these guppies know where it's at. Fuck, I can't stop tapping my shoes! Where the hell are these guys?

Turns out, their having one of those lip singing battle things or whatever. I've always fancied myself as a lip singing connoisseur. So sure, I try my hand. I mean, why not? If my girlfriend gets to compete in my sport, why can't I compete in hers. But I guess she ain't really a lip singer. No, she's one of those real singers with that deep, raspy treble and that trembling, quaking staccato. I should know, I'm her manager.

So I try my hand at the stuff, and hey, it turns out I'm pretty good! The lip singing, that is. The set ups pretty cool, hear me out. So they got this headphone type thing, right? Wireless, obviously. But instead of just a regular old headset, this ones made out of like jelly or something like that. No joke! They even pumped it full of helium so it will float and all that! How they got the sound in there I got no clue.

So here I am, lip singing my big old mouth, when some little mother fucker tries to give their mouth a try! Who do they think they are? Walking on my turf doing my thing! I'm the lip singer! That's my thing!

So this little bastard comes prancing through the street babbling and waddling like a fucking idiot, and here I am, trying to respect the art for what it is and all that. But get this, they start cheering for him! That fucking fiasco! So here I go into battle or whatever, the kind you see on tv and that kind of stuff, and I'm just crushing it. I mean really killing it. We're talking best stuff of the century kind of stuff. But what the hell happens? He fucking wins! Out of fucking nowhere! Probably paid off the judge or some shit like that!

So here I am paying my grievances and all that, and they just go and steal the fucking headphones right off my fucking head! Who the hell do they think they are? So I start whining and complaining and telling them how it is and all that, when this big buff dude decides that it's time that I leave! Me for Christ sakes! What the fuck did I do? Their the one not respecting the art and all that!

But of course no one goes to any much trouble to listen to me, so here I am, thrown out on a curb like a fucking whore, bawling and crying and all that shit because I didn't get the rights that our forefathers so called inalienable.

So I call the government up and tell them how it is. And get this, in no time at all I hear the wee woo and the wam wam and the kerplunk kerplunk of police cars and all that, and I go and tell them how it is. I explain the whole fucking thing, the girlfriend, the battle, even the fucking competition, and what the fuck happens? I get arrested! Ya, me! The do good play nice tax paying citizen who does nothing but follow the law!

So here I am sitting in a jail cell and all and I'm like, "Don't I get a phone call or whatever?" And this little bitch of an officer gets all snooty with me, telling me how I can't do this and my Miranda rights are that and all that shit. So of course I complain and whine till I have my way, cus that's the law or whatever, and I used my one phone call.

But no, my goddamn girlfriend is too busy going into labor or some shit like that. Too concerned with our goddamn first child to pick up the goddamn phone. What a selfish little bastard! First she steals my dreams, then she has to go off and have my baby?! Now? Why the fuck couldn't she just hold it! I got time. I can wait another day without a crying screaming needy little mother fucker who acts like my goddamn girlfriend.

Just give her an abortion, I say. Sure, it wouldn't be one of those regular abortions, more like a post natal kind of thing, but the who fuck cares? It's not like we need another mouth to feed anyways! Fuck, I could barely afford the 100in plasma we just bought. What a selfish little bitch! Blabbing about how we need to provide for the world and all that! Shit, even made me throw away more money for some sort of cause or some shit like that. What fucking cause makes you give up your own hard earned cash?! Sure, I get working and all that, but burning your hard earned moola for a fucking cause? That's just plain stupid.

So I tell that little bitch of an officer the great injustice of this detainment and all that, and what does she do? She goes and whacks me right across the noggin! Yea, she hits me! A fucking police officer no less! So I'm like, "Look lady, you can't do that. I'm a police officer." And she has to go and be all like, "You're nuts you little freak! We detained you for messing with those fine folks at the retirement home. What were you thinking?"

So I'm like, "I ain't never been to no old person nursery. I'm a good law abiding citizen who would never do nothing to nobody."  

So there she goes and hits me again, real hard this time, so I do what any self respecting man would do. I show her how it is. So here I am respecting and explaining and all that stuff when a whole bunch of other mother fuckers jump on me, as if I'm the bad guy!

They start throwing me into the table and against bare walls and all that stuff, even trying to put those metal things around my wrists.

So I'm like, "No sir, you ain't gonna do none of that!" So I start whacking those fellas and gals, cus they definitely need to learn, and when their all asleep or knocked out or whatever I grab the keys and show myself out.

Of course that snooty fat little desk jockey snarls at me as I walk by and I'm like, "Hey lady, what'd I ever do to you?"