Ticks Me Off Tuesday

So I am going to cheap out on all of you and post something from yesterday.  Kind of.  Little dude had his first soccer practice.  I had already had run ins with the "coach" we will call her "ditzy broad" for lack of a non profane term.  Our initial encounter was several months ago at the gym.  Weatherman was on some cardio thing in the back of the carido room, I in the front on a rollerblading type machine(So maybe 20 feet between us).  There are two of these air skate machines, almost on top of each other.    Next to me as I am smoothly gliding, is this weird old-ish lady making weird noises and acting like she is having an orgasm on it.

For a while I tried to ignore her, not laugh you all knew I was dying too.  15 minutes was my limit, and I like my tunes LOUD.  I left went and stood against the wall behind weatherman.  He was wrapping up and exited the machine.  "WTF is that?" pointing to the chick.  I didn't even want to speculate.  We never went back in there again, and just stay on the hamster wheel they call a track. 

So what is the point I ask myself this all the time? I get the rooster, with less than a week and a half till the first game.  Guess who is the coach?

 K, maybe shave 10 years off but still the creepy old lady.  Awesome.  So, lets Fast Forward to Monday's practice.  We get there 5 minutes early she is nowhere to be seen, the other teams are wrapping up.  they take the nets, and leave.  So there is a group of us standing like morons with kids in wind of 30 miles an hour.  She finally comes and informs us, she is coaching not just our team, but another K league team.  So she is doing 2 of the same age.  Do the math, even if you suck at math it spells DISASTER.  First thing she does is tell the parents the kids like when they run the field with them.  

 I may be a decade removed from the sport, but never remember a coach selling that line of crap.  So the weatherman is all gun ho about going out there and being "Dad."  Right?  This is the same man who tormented his friend his whole life for loving, "A Commie Sport."  And another direct quote, "My kid will never play that commie sport."  See the trend.  Weatherman was a different kind of field fairy in school, the Track and I can't play a real sort so I'll just run Field kind.   No offense to blog readers who ran track, I'm making a point and I dated really only soccer/hockey players when I was in school, he hated soccer.  Why the turn of cheek.  The idea of a kid throwing a ball at Little Dudes head scared the living piss out of him when I pointed out statistically, he is predisposed genetically to getting hurt.  Oh and I did sign him up for baseball, this week.  It starts AFTER soccer.  I digress. 

She is standing there with parents from both her teams and tells them to all work together and scrimmage.  Umm, lady these are 5yo's, its some kids first time playing.  Another dad took over when she just walked away to another field with the other team.   We fired her, actually it was more like a coup. 

 This dad who has played soccer is going to coach now, we think hope.  Weatherman volunteered to help when ever he could which will be almost never, but made him look good.  All the while, the parent who actually played the f-ing sport is sitting on her arse on the sidelines plotting painful ways to harm weatherman putting in all the dates for the games.  I was ticked, I tweeted about it.  Weatherman now babysits what I say on twitter, and a couple hours after we were home started wining about it. 

 This blog really is my last sanctuary via the web.  He has no concept of social networking, blogs, etc.  Drives me up the wall.  I wish he wouldn't have asked to follow me.  His reasoning, "Whats the big deal?"  The deal is every f-in time I type something you ask about it.  Now he put the app on his blackberry and can check it all the time.  Oh joy.  I have like 6 friends who actively read my tweets.  Others just have me on because let's face it, I'm a whole lot of awesome to have more followers.  What evs.  It will be a constant struggle here, forever.  I was a social being before I met him, I will never be the whatever he wants me to be.  I have given up so much for him, his issues, his comfort.  I don't act, I don't dance, sing, basically do ANYTHING outside the house and yet...grrrr. 

 (This and all pics above are via Google images)

 Can't I get a place just for me to talk to my posse?  So now that it is nearing 2AM and I should get to bed as I have to bring little dude to school in the AM, one positive of all this we are booked for 6 Saturdays in a row now.  No visit to the In laws.  Say it with me, Oh HELLS YES!!!!! darn.  And I was looking forward to going there for the weekend like one looks forward to a forced lobotomy. 
 
I say to the ditzy broad you suck, you started all this tonight drama Monday, with your lack of coaching.  You suck and are awarded my Ticks Me Off Tuesday award for the week.  Weatherman, you can just get it every week at the stroke of midnight, you know you did at least one thing every week to deserve it. 

So, your turn to post your gripe(s) below. It's time to let it all hang out here, I'm WAY cheaper than a shrink.