The Stinque Losers Braquet 2015

Yes, this is a metaphor. A metaphor for your hopes and dreams, once bursting with excitement and potential, now just… burst.

And as metaphors go, it’s much more restrained than what we were initially considering. But hey, everybody does the Hindenburg. And we think you’ll agree that Oh the Humanity — of my bracket! is a bit much.

Instead, a simple Pfffffft! seems to capture the sentiment.

So get up, dust yourself off, change your shorts, and let’s defy reason again with The Stinque Losers Braquet!

Special thanks as always to Braquet Queen Mellbell for running ahead and dousing the place with Febreze before the rest of us get there.

8 Comments

Wait. Is that a Carnival Lines condom? Blow it up and slide down the chute! Woo hoo! (I have no idea what that means.)

And since my life now resembles this I have nothing more to add beyond urging you all to watch the referenced film. Directed by Michael Haneke (sp? douchebag). You can be witness to a horse being slaughtered in close up and watch the bloom of death cloud her eyes. Because art. I called the US distributor to rage about the inhuman cruelty of it. Nice man there assured me that the horse in quesition would have beeen slaughtered anyhow so anyhoo. I’m haunted by the production discussions as to how it should/would be done. Production staff sitting about in airy open offices planning how to cope with re-takes in case the original knife slash to the horse’s throat isn’t enough to quench its life. Lighting stand ins would no doubt be required. Other horses not to be sacrificed on the altar of art that day. All concerned would need coffee breaks. And out on location maybe hot soup. Production planning – how do we get the horse to be sacrificed to art where it needs to be and when? What do we feed it? Do we feed it? After we get The Shot do we have a means of disposal? Chiens-R-Us?

You see what I mean about my life? Above is an example. Completely deranged. As I weep over my keyboard I try to be strong but fail.

But wait. I’m all up with brackets. You screw them in the wall and they support ropes from which you can hang yourself, right? Or is this a Sport thing? In which case

@Benedick: Wait what? Horses having their throats slit for The Art?

Before you lose your mind, or I take time to think about what you described, watch the video of POTUS and Girl Scouts at the White House Science Fair the other day. (His tie is perfectly knotted, as always. I wonder if any fashion mag will ever interview him and ask him who taught him to knot a tie like that. His Indonesian step-father? His WW-II vet grandfather? Shelley Oh!? Shelley Oh’s dad? I’m curious…)

Re: the daily blurb, the loser is definitely the Beeb. Clarkson is enough of a brand that he will make a soft landing somewhere, but Top Gear will not be the same without him (and I say that as a casual fan at best).

@SanFranLefty: Me, too. I suspect there is a genetic need among some men to tie a perfect half-windsor. But our president takes it so much further. As before noted ad absurdism it is the perfect balance of the fit of the shirt collar, the proportion of the knot to the collar, the color of the tie itself – recently he’s taken to matching the tie to his hair which just about makes me throw myself on the floor and eat ice-cream – and the frame made by the jacket. In my experience, we gays don’t do this well. We go too far with one element or another. We go too severe or too colorful. Or the cut is just a wee bit OT. Our president harnesses all the elements with an exquisite subtlety, letting none of them outweigh the other. Sigh.

Arkansas is about to join Indiana in the loser’s column.

I would just like to bask in my all-too-brief moment of glory atop the original Stinque Braquet.

*bzzt bzzt*

testing . . . testing . . .

is this thing on?

What hath God wrought?

/end transmission

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