Here's the deal OPP fans, we've all been at that live sports event enjoying a game. There is a time out on the court...and some Ozzy Osbourne "Crazy Train" pops on over the speakers. The crowd sits docile doing there thing which is: eating, talking, walking up and down the stairs for a food run, or sittin and staring into space. Then, like "The Night Before Christmas," my wondering eyes found this:
Twas two months before Christmas and all seemed mundane,
No one was jammin' along with that Crazy Train.
When what, to my wondering eyes should I see;
But that one lone ranger, clapping with glee.
I thought to myself oh God what shame,
Dude's lost his mind, he must be insane.
He's dancing, he's prancing, he's laughing; I'll hit him.
He's clapping and jiggling; cripes, dude, get some rhythm.
As his hands clasped in an uneven refrain,
I felt sorry for Ozzy and his crazy-like train.
YOU KILLED OZZY FOR ALL, EFF YOU DUDE, GOODNIGHT!
That poem was to you 55 year old guy who claps out of sync. I see your gross early 90's Guess Jeans with a tucked in horizontal stripped orange and blue polo shirt, a gray hat from a trip that you took to Denver, and all white old man tennis shoes. You already stand out...you don't need to literally stand up and stand out at a sports event. Dude, don't be that guy. Don't be that guy that has to try so hard to "be into" something when in reality you are trying to be a college student again. Don't be that guy who pretends that he is musical, "hip," and can dance, when in reality your hands can't hit a beat if that beat was tea-bagging your chin. Finally, don't be that guy to ruin Ozzy by going off the rails on a crazy train.
Narcosleepy Out
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