sight isn’t always necessary

I’ve got a name for your softball team, you piece of poo.  The Royal Turdwads fits the personality of everyone on the team perfectly.  You can all go and pretend to be good friends, playing softball and giggling at the expense of others, with the big white letters “TURDWAD” scrawled in fancy cursive on the back of your jersey.  You could make the jerseys brown to fit the image a bit better!  And you could glare at any outsiders walking by, just for not being in the ever obnoxious clique that you have formed.

Ooh!  And then, you could compare and contrast your amazingness with each other.  You could talk about your cool toys, your cool cars, your cool parties, your cool trips, your cool athletic abilities.  You could flaunt them, and make peanut gallery remarks at everything anyone else says just because you didn’t think of it first.  When you hit the ball, you can yell out “Your Mom” because you think it’s funny, even though it’s asinine, childish, and incredibly annoying.  Every other sentence can be from a stupid TV show or comic book you read, and you can all laugh raucously at how witty you are, when really you’re all saying the same sentence over and over but you’re so self-absorbed you don’t realize you’re repeating each other.

When you’re done playing softball, you can talk about how great you all were.  Then you can go drink beer at an uppity bar together, discussing your greatness, as well as putting down all of the people around you simply because they are not you.

Turdwads.  I like it.  I might go see you play, if you can guarantee that one of you gets hit in the head with a bat.