Polimicks

Leftist commentary from a mouthy bitch

Penn State and Why I Hate Football Culture.

So, there was this thing.

An assistant coach at Penn State raped several little boys over the past couple of decades.  At least one person walked in on him raping a child, and neither did they step in and stop  it, nor did they call the fucking police.  He called his dad, who told him to talk to the head coach, who talked to another University official, who DID JACK SHIT ABOUT THIS ASSHOLE RAPING CHILDREN IN THEIR FUCKING FACILITY.

I don’t even have… There isn’t enough profanity in the world to cover it.

I’m not even sure I can be coherent about this.

And then, and then when the decision is made to fire the coach WHO KNEW ABOUT THE KID RAPING AND DIDN’T STOP IT, the students riot because he was unfairly fired…

😐

I… the rage is pretty much all encompassing.  I mean, I’m used to it when the victims are adult women.  Hell, I expect it.  Someone reports a rape, and the Whore Chorus starts up immediately, especially if the accused in question is any sort of athlete.  But these were CHILDREN, LITTLE BOYS, PREPUBESCENT.  And these fools are all, “Well, its not fair to expect him to…”  To what?  Fire the asshole?  Call the fucking cops?  Take him out back with a sock full of quarters?

Personally, I think the parents of those children need to sue the shit out of Penn State for every fucking last red cent they can get from them.  They allowed that man (Sandusky) access to children AFTER SOMEONE CAUGHT HIM IN THE ACT OF RAPING A CHILD!

If it sounds like I’m harping on that a lot, I AM.  This isn’t even a case of he said/he said.  There was a FUCKING WITNESS, a complete and utter coward of a witness who should be horsewhipped for letting it go on.

I just, I don’t understand how any decent human being can see someone raping a child and walk away.  Not only walk away, but not call the fucking police.

Right now I’m just so disgusted at this whole thing that I’m having a hard time not screaming obscenities into the ether or punching things.

Faith in humanity failing.

Oh, and all you Penn State fans who rioted at Paterno’s firing:  Fuck you.  You are terrible human beings.  Live with it.

And Jon Stewart says it best.

Hooray for this Dad who protested today’s game.  And a special place in hell for everyone who cursed him, or threw things at him.  You know who you are, and that is both your crime and your punishment.

John Matko protests the Penn State game. Thank you for restoring a little of my faith in humanity, sir.

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3 comments on “Penn State and Why I Hate Football Culture.

  1. Marshall Gordon
    November 15, 2011

    You are so right.

    The decent thing for Penn State to do is to cancel their football program indefinitely, at least until the “football uber allas” culture and all who supported it are rooted out.

    And the Middle States Association should revoke Penn State’s accreditation.

    And Joe Paterno needs to be indicted.

    Like

  2. SweetClarissa
    November 20, 2011

    WHY I HATE FOOTBALL!
    All sports bore me to tears but I truly despise football. It represents all that is wrong with masculinity at its most aggressive worst. The only guy that bullied me in high school was one of the football jocks. He and the other football jocks would always call me a pussy. Which I always was but so what. Why should that bother them so much?

    My all time favorite activity has always been cross dressing and I have always considered myself blessed that my facial structure and appearance was always more pretty rather than handsome. By end of freshman year I had grown my hair past my shoulders and would always delight whenever anyone would mistake me for a girl. So along with calling me a ‘pussy’ and threatening to “pummel my pansy ass” would be the jocks continuously stating the obvious that I looked like a girl. Still today I would love to know why it was so important to them for me and every boy to look like a boy and not a girl.

    Well, no sooner that they had zeroed in on me for my effeminate appearance that they, and by this time the cheerleaders also, had noticed that I never dated nor really even talked to girls. I guess that got them curious about what I did in my spare time because one day before the homecoming rally in sophmore year, the head cheerleader of my class cornered me in a hallway begging me to wear her cheer outfit and ‘be her’ at the rally. She said she could not get any of the football jocks to do it. Of course I wanted to say yes and to do it very badly but I was afraid it could somehow ‘give me away’ as a cross dresser but I have always wondered if that was going to be a set-up by the cheerleaders and the jocks to trick me into exposing myself as a transvestite.

    As if everything up till this point wasn’t enough to bring attention to me from the football jocks, the PE coaches had made us begin weight training. Well I had decided by age seven or so that muscles don’t look good in a dress and that the most important thing to me in my life was to look my best (my most feminine) in a dress so weight training was definitely something that I wanted no part of. So, on my second day of weight training in PE I faked a weight lifting accident and injury in PE that I was able to use to get a doctor to get me excused from weight training and other typically muscle building PE crap for the remainder of high school. Of course, this bothered the football jocks even more so that didn’t help matters as they all got strong, muscular and more manly while I got more and more feminine looking.

    I got out of high school a year early and began junior college and at that time my mom bought a bigger er house right behind the high school. The second story back deck of our house overlooked the high school athletic field and every day possible I could not wait to get home from the JC, strip off my boy clothes, do my make-up, then doll up like ‘the girl next door’. Then, while the football jocks were smashing each other up and getting all sweaty and filthy on the field below, I would be all dolled up dancing on the deck dancing to tunes such as “I Am Just A Girl” by ABBA, “I Feel Pretty” from West Side Story and “How Lovely to be a Woman” from Bye Bye Birdie. They obviously did not have a clue that this dancing girl was me or even a boy at all which made me certain that none of them knew where I lived so they not only just thought I was some swishy girl who danced on her parent’s back deck during their football practice but they made no secret out of the fact that they thought I was a rather attractive girl at that although I’m certain they thought I was no older than junior high or even sixth grade because I always looked much younger whenever I was dressed as a girl.

    I still love cross dressing more than anything else and I have a ritual I do every Superbowl Sunday: I doll up entirely as a fairy princess and spend the day girly shopping, and every women’s clothing store I go to I introduce myself as: “The Soft Meek Weak Effete and Ever Ever so Very Sweet Testosterone Neutralizing Anti-Football Fairy”.

    I think that all professional athletes get paid way too much money. Playing a sport is not very difficult nor does it require much talent. Certainly not like make-up or fashion design.

    Like

    • angelesgymrat
      June 29, 2012

      I love the story above–how it’s so off-topic. Looks like it is going to be about one thing and turns out to be about something else! The “I hate football” theme comes at the start and at the end but it’s really about something else entirely and is not really hating football.

      Like

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This entry was posted on November 14, 2011 by in Abuse, Featured Articles, Rape.

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