Friday, September 23, 2011
Like most people, I don’t hate as many people as I say that I do. Papelbon. Russell Brand. Adrian Grenier. LeBron James. I’m sure that there are a few that I’m missing but my point is that the number is a lot smaller than I portray it to be. Ironically, I can’t think of anyone that I’ve met (other than Ide) that I truly despised so much that I hated them. Except for one person. Today, you will read about him. I’m even breaking my only rule for this site of not identifying people with his stupid face leading off this post although it's blurry, sorry, but you can tell that he's an asshole). I will open this post the same way that I plan on closing it…Fuck You, Cullen.
It’s the summer of 1996 and I’m getting ready to take part in my first season of varsity high school football (as a sophomore). Since my classmates and I were the low men on the totem pole, it was best to not draw attention to yourself. Just get your lifting done and get the hell out of there before the Seniors made an example out of you. The team was intact heading into two-a-days yet there was a new guy who showed up on that first two-a-day who did not take part in any summer lifting or “victory camp” (don’t even get me started on how much those three days blew). That would be Cullen.
I’ll freely admit that the first impression of Cullen was terrifying. He looked like he was chiseled by the damn Gods. Cut from head to toe, he painted a fairly intimidating picture. Word traveled quickly to us peon underclassmen that he spent the summer at some sort of military camp or school. Well, that explained why he was in sick shape. It didn’t explain his bizarre mental state.
Something was definitely “off” with Cullen. By that, I mean that he was a fucking lunatic. I don’t know if he was always like that or if it was the mass quantities of steroids that he was surely injecting himself with, but the guy was chemically imbalanced to the EXXXTREME! Example time! Instead of taking breaks on the sidelines in between plays or drills, he would do push-ups! It was 100 degrees, too! No sane person does this! At this point, everybody rightfully started laughing at him behind his back. What a fucktard! But while it was all fun and games to snicker at his douchelordiness, no one wanted to be the reason to get him to snap.
Cullen broke his hand during a game early in the season. I should have enjoyed it at the time more than I did. He had to play the rest of the season with one of those giant clubs of tape and padding. Those things are never not funny. Wait, I can’t believe that I haven’t mentioned this yet. Cullen was a TERRIBLE linebacker. He had the muscles and the insanity to be a white James Harrison, but he had the athleticism of a special needs child (no offense). So it made him even more of a joke to watch him act like some Linebacking God when we all saw that he got trucked every other play and teams ran right at him on purpose. And, you know, his club.
I mentioned it last Friday (and I knew that only Buke would get it) but Cullen used to randomly (but often) scream “AIN’T-NOTHIN’-WE-CAN-DO-ABOUT-THIS-TIME”! I never figured out what the hell he was talking about or what it meant or if anyone on the team knew what the hell he meant, but either way, it was annoying and stupid. Seriously, what could that dumb phrase possibly mean? He screamed it in the locker room and on the field and probably while he was getting buggered in one of NW’s interracial bukkake gay pornos.
I hope I painted a decent picture for why Cullen is a turd sandwich. Now would be a pretty good time to explain why I hate him and hope that he drowns in a lake of fire and my own diarrhea, right? No problem. Obviously, at some point, I managed to find myself the target of Cullen’s deranged assaults. Dickhead McGee had an annoying habit to say the word “harsh” after every little thing. Some punk underclassmen gets water sprayed down their back? HARSH! Someone makes a nice tackle? HARSH! Cullen flunks 2nd grade phonics class as an 18 year old? HARSH! No one on the planet has said a word more than Cullen said “harsh”. He said it more than Lou Holtz spits.
He was dating (raping?) a girl in my class during the year in question. At some point, I had started saying “harsh” all the time as a means to make fun of him behind his back. Well, (we’ll call her Jenny since that was her name) Jenny told Cullen about my usage of HIS word. He was not pleased. All of a sudden, I was now the target of his pent up roid rage. I managed to keep a low profile for half of the season but now I was public enemy #1. This was not good. Cheap shots while I was on scout team, insults, and hazing became daily occurrences. And all that I could do was take it. It wasn’t like I had the capability to kick his ass and I’ll be damned if I was going to be a narc. So Cullen would get his jollies knocking me around the practice field for the rest of the season. Needless to say, I was pretty pumped after our last game ended and I was done with him. Or so I thought.
During basketball season, we would play euchre games after school down in the locker room. Buke and I used to run that shit. So one day, we dispatch with some foes and who shows up to call winners: Cullen and his even more juiced up buddy, Dave. The stakes were quite small. I think it was like a buck a game played to ten. Now they were BLATANTLY cheating because they could yet somehow we beat them. They must have totally sucked at stacking the deck, I guess. I think Dave paid Buke which left Cullen being in debt to me. Huge mistake. Instead of getting a dollar for my superior card play, he gave me a right cross to the jaw. Classy move. Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt, I didn’t go down (which still surprises me to this day) and I didn’t say a word. They just got up and left. Apparently, that was how we were going to end our relationship; with him sucker punching me in the face over 20 nickels.
That was my last run-in with Cullen and that was 15 years ago. I still hate him to this day. I mean, I fucking LOATHE him. If he was dead, I would piss on his grave. If he was in prison (where he belongs), I would pay someone to shank him in the shower while he was sucking multiple cocks. I don’t really know what I would do if I ever saw him again. I’d probably just call him a fag, demand that he pay me my dollar PLUS interest, and then reimburse him for the sucker punch he gave me. Man that would be a sweet feeling.
In conclusion, Fuck You, Cullen. I hope that all the bad things in the world happen to you and you alone.