If I Had An Invisible Rope, I'd Be A Way Better Mime Than That Guy

It's true confessions time: I'm a huge, flatulent, screaming, hypocritical idiot.
I've done a ton of shit in my life, and I took pride in just about half of most of it.
When I was a waiter and some podiatrist's kid who got a Rolex for passing driver's ed would complain about the service, I'd think "You wouldn't last one day in a slow Big Boy with a section next to the salad bar you little prick, you have no right to judge."
When I worked in the auto industry and some dickknob engineer who thought his reversible Mickey Mouse tie really made him Merlin the Magician would tell me how to maximize my spline roller output, I'd say "Pull on some gloves and put that little theory into practice, Pythagoras."
.As far as I'm concerned, Teddy Roosevelt nailed it.
So why the hell do I think it's okay to break major blood vessels in my cranium when an NHL referee hacks a call on a play that happened at 72 miles an hour that I'm watching in Matrixlike slo-mo on an ultra high def screen the size of a fucking bread truck ?
I mean I will re-watch a hooking call like I'm on the Warren Commission, begging for every member of the official's family to contract dysentery on a cruise ship that's sinking while the band is playing Seger covers, and I've never officiated a hockey game in my life. I umped about 3 little league baseball games and worked the lines on a few youth soccer matches and I sucked at that. In shoes.
These guys are skating backwards, dodging Latvian behemoths in Iron Man suits, I'm critiquing them at 140 decibels while making piles of belly button lint on the card table that's holding the Chunky Soup I just burned and I can't skate backwards. You know why ? Because I can't skate forward either.
If Lily Aldridge ...

                                    No, Jim doesn't really care that I'm married to a King of Leon

...asked me to fetch a ballgag and some Astroglide for us from a top shelf and I had to don a pair of Pavel Datsyuk signature Reebok skates to do so, I'd botch that fifty percent of the time.
I will bellow and admonish and get indignant at these once or twice a game transgressions and I'm not sure I can even blow a whistle 45 times in 60 minutes without supplemental oxygen.
I know it's dumb, but I can't stop. I've been doing it so long I'm like the guy smoking a camel no filter through his trach opening next to the oxygen canister.
I'm watching the Bruins vs. the Canucks right now, ( after the Wings skated like they were charting migratory patterns of Aleutian song birds) and there's a good chance that while I'm typing this I'll scream at an official who can't hear me because he's in British Columbia and he doesn't give a fuck what I think even if he could hear me.
                                             

It's a horrible habit. It's idiotic But it least it doesn't cost 7 bucks a pack, and whether anyone will admit it with me or not, I know I'm not alone.