I am so sick of all the hand-wringing going on over the 100-0 girls basketball game last weekend. I really am. About how the coach of the winning team was a monster and the girls who lost were the “real winners”. It’s really got me pissed off. A few thoughts about it:

• The coach of the winning team (Covenant) is not an evil monster. The AP story reads: A parent who attended the game said Covenant continued to make 3-pointers — even in the fourth quarter. The coach would have been a monster if he had instructed his girls to miss three pointers in the 4th quarter. That would have made a mockery of the game and sport. What was the coach supposed to do? Tell his players to miss shots on purpose? Hand the ball to the other team and let them shoot? If I am coaching a game and my team gets way out ahead, I pull out my best players and have my team play zone defense. But I’m not going to tell the kids that are in there to not play hard. That would be much more humiliating to the losing team than losing 100-0.
• The girls who lost are not the “real winners”. They are real losers. They lost 100-0. That is disgraceful. I blame their coach more for not making them competitive than I blame the other coach for running up the score. But what is most disgraceful is how the media has handled it. All the stories are about how the team that lost (Dallas Academy) is made up of girls with dyslexia and short attention spans. Who gives a s***? Does that really make this worse? They aren’t blind and deaf. Hell, I’ve got a short attention span. It has never affected my abilities on a basketball court.
• The Covenant team had a goal and they accomplished it. 100 points in a game was their goal. They achieved it. Good for them.
• I have been in a game as bad as this. I was on a Little League baseball team that gave up 39 runs…in the first inning! The game was called of darkness after one inning, with them leading 39-1. I never considered their coach to be a jerk. I would have if he had ordered his players to bunt and then walk down to first base.
• Apologize for winning? Covenant School issued an apology after the game. An apology for winning! What does this say about our society? That our winners have to apologize to our losers? “I’m sorry that I’m better than you.” Should Obama apologize to McCain for beating him so badly? Should he have let up on his campaigning in North Carolina and Virginia, just to make the score closer? Should the Eagles apologize for beating the Cowboys 44-6 in the last game of the regular season?
• The team that lost is called Dallas Academy. I am OK with any team that goes by the name Dallas losing by a lot of points.
• I am Bobby Badtimes. Beware my Wrath!

Hey morons. Happy Freakin’ New Year. Hope you didn’t spend your New Year acting like a steakhead in an effort to show off to 21 year old girls. Because that would be pathetic, especially for a person in their 30s. But enough holiday greetings. Let’s get down to business. First of all, sorry it’s been so long. Truth is, I been upstate. Yeah, a year or so ago I punched some dyke cop in the mouth for getting lippy with me. Note to Alycia: do not eat the macaroni in the pen. Just trust me on that one, sweetheart. Alright, here goes:

There are some people for whom simply driving a Ford F-150 King cab truck or a Hummer aren’t quite enough to show off how much of an idiot toolbag moron they are. Nope, these people need to hang rubber testicles from the truck to ensure that a) everyone knows that they are very manly and b) to ensure that they never have a date with a woman with more than 3 teeth. Well, a lawmaker in Virginia has had enough to balls to call for an end to this idiocy. In all honesty, if they gave the electric chair to every person who had a pair of these of these on their truck, I would be all in favor of it.

You know how Hillary’s shrieking about how she has tons of experience, and how Obama has almost none? Which would be a great selling point, except for the fact that she has almost no experience. But she does have a Flowbee, and it’s working wonders with her hair.

Unlike Goodtimes, I have always loved Columbus Day. See, I am a big fan of slave trading mass murderers. I am also a big fan of syphilis. And I hate Europe. So needless to say, I was extremely pleased when this story came out.

Am I the only one who would love to see Pacman Jones and Britney Spears start dating?

Leave Tony Romo alone! How dare any of you out there to make fun of Tony after all he’s been through! He lost the snap in Seattle, he choked against the Giants, he lost Carrie Underwood. He’s a human! He’s my quarterback! But all you people care about is yourselves. LEAVE HIM ALONE! You’re lucky he even played for you BASTARDS! LEAVE TONY ALONE! Pleeeease. That’s my teammate! That’s my quarterback.

Hey Tom Cruise. Thank you for saving my life following that car crash. As I laid there, on the verge of death, I thought to myself, “If only Tom Cruise were here, he’s the only one who can save me.” I wish that Onstar would stop dialing 911 when you get in a crash and just start dialing Tom Cruise. Then we’d never lose anyone in a crash.

My name is Bobby Badtimes. Beware my Wrath!

A lot of youse been wondering where I’ve been. Well, it’s simple. I’ve been spending a lot of time in exotic foreign places that people like you can’t afford to go to, and spending my evenings wining and dining women who wouldn’t give losers like youse the time of day. Finally the funds ran a little low, so I agreed to write a little piece for this pathetic website that about two of youse read for anything other than the question of the week. Here goes:

Hey hipsters. I’ve had just about enough of you greasy annoying whiners who buy $10 ugly ass shirts at a second hand boutique for $20 so you can say that it’s used and listen to bands that suck on the offchance that the band gets a record deal someday so that then you can say that you saw them at the Khyber back in the day and “To be honest, you weren’t really that impressed.” Hey hipsters, here’s a few tips: pants legs rolled up look stupid, bed head looks stupid, you are ugly, you are an idiot. I hope Vladimir Putin finds you and slips polonium 210 into your Pabst Blue Ribbon.

Continue reading “Bobby Badtimes is Back! Beware his Wrath!” →

Philadelphia is the city that should be most ashamed of the way it treated Barry Bonds, because they were the most hypocritical about it. This is a city that prides itself on loving athletes who do whatever it takes to win, and yet when an athlete comes in here that has done everything possible, within the rules of the sport, to make himself better, he gets roundly booed. Bonds would have been given a standing ovation by the fans of Philadelphia if their actions backed up their words. As it is, they are all just boorish jerks looking for an excuse to boo.

Barry Bonds did steroids. So what? So did Phillies pitcher Ryan Franklin, but you don’t see Phillies fans booing him. At least, not until he starts pitching. And let’s face it; was it not brutally obvious that Mark McGuire and Sammy Sosa were on the juice during that great chase of ’98 that gave us all the fuzzies? So why does Barry not get treated like the star athlete that he is when he comes to Philly? Because he doesn’t operate under a facade of niceness, b/c his p.r. people don’t tell him to offer up a bunch of b.s. about “taking it one day at a time” and giving “110 percent”? You people always complain about how boring athletes are, then you get a guy who speaks his mind and you decide to hate him. Pathetic.

But what this really comes down to is the rules. Should Cy Young be villified b/c he was allowed to throw the spitball, which is now against the rules? No, so why should Bonds be villified for using steroids at a time when they were not only legal in baseball, but encouraged? It’s obvious that McGuire woulda never hit all those homers and gotten all those endorsement deals without the help of steroids, so why should Bonds be treated any differently than McGuire? The fact that baseball encouraged steroid use is baseball’s fault, not Bonds’s fault. He saw an opportunity to improve his game, and make himself better and his team better. And he did so in a way that he knew could potentially hurt his own health. He did what all the great ones do: He put it all on the line to improve his game within the framework of the rules. And you people, who call yourselves baseball fans, booed him. You just don’t know baseball.

My name is Bobby Badtimes. Beware my wrath!

I will be hosting quizzo this week, and I’m going in with only one goal. I want, at the end of each of the six contests I host this week, to see at least one person in tears. Don’t come to quizzo if you are expecting “good times”, b/c there will none. I will be drinking too much, saying inappropriate things at precisely the wrong time, and throwing long, awkward, uncomfortable stares at you women. I will be cussing like a sailor. I implore you to not bring children to the bar. If all goes according to plan, I will punch at least two of you in the face by the end of the week.
Related: Don’t Join Bobby on Myspace. He doesn’t want you to.

Bobby Badtimes here. Well, spring is in the air, and you know what that means…that pedestrians start getting real cocky. Somehow the warm weather makes them feel like a 2,500 lb. piece of steel moving at 25-30 mph can’t inflict major damage on their internal organs. So they just saunter out in front of you in your car, sometimes even looking you in the eyes as if to say, “I’m a pedestrian, and I alllllllways have the right away, no matter what the light says.” But I’ve come up witha neat little approach to deal with this problem: I’m going to start hitting two of you a week with my car until this bull**** stops. Not hard, I’m not trying to kill anybody here. Just a gentle little tap to take out your knees and send you sprawling to the pavement. Just hard enough to send a message that you’re on my road, and I’m the one with the deadly piece of steel.

Continue reading “Beware My Wrath!!!” →

Aw, isn’t it just the cutest holiday of the year? The day where every man in America, if only for a second, thinks about taking a flamethrower to the house of their ex-girlfriend’s new boyfriend. And where every female thinks, “S***, I guess I gotta give it up tonight just because he bought me a $2 card and took me out to eat at Applebees” (15th and Locust, now hiring!) Yep, I do love Valentine’s. Nothing like socially forced sentimentality to say, “I love you.”

I was at a dinner party a few weeks ago where I was quoted as saying, “I won’t stop hating Dick Cheney until the day he shoots a Republican lawyer in the face.” I’m at the Dollar General now, purchasing incense for my new shrine.

Hey Philadelphia Metro (We’re just like the USA Today, only s****ier), nice job posting Philly’s best quizzoes. I was surprised you didn’t include Gervase’s.

Hey Gervase. Seriously dude, it’s over. Just…I’m sorry, I really liked you in Survivor, but it’s over, dawg. Let it go.

Hey Muslims. Seriously, just calm the f*** down. You’re behaving like “Dwayne” in the 700 level when Ronde Barber returned that INT for a touchdown in the 2002 NFC championship game. Don’t you understand the concept of freedom of…wait, what? They burned down a McDonald’s? Carry on, then. Carry on.

Hey guys with girlfriends. You think you’re all hot s***, walking around town, holding hands and kissing and all. Well hey, you remember last week when your girlfriend ran out to “get some milk?” She wasn’t getting milk, brother. No, she was running her hands through the ol’ Bobby Badtimes permanent ($35 at the unisex salon in Upper Darby). To be the man, you gotta beat the man. Wooooooooo!

Hey figure skating. Look me in the eyes when I tell you this. YOU…F******…SUCK. The only thing that could make me watch figure skating is if they started releasing live bulls onto the ice during the programs. Angry, deadly, hungry bulls.

My name is Bobby Badtimes. Beware my holiday wrath!!!

No time for pleasantries. Hey Geno’s, why don’t you take your Mississippi white trash act somewhere else? “This is America, Please speak English when ordering”. Quick question: Were your ancestors speaking the King’s English when they got off the boat? I’m pretty sure mine weren’t. In fact, I think they were moving to America to get away from the kind of pretentious ignorance you so proudly display. Then again, I might be more willing to let this transgression slide if you weren’t the Ride the Ducks of cheesesteaks: loved by tourists, but you don’t see any locals waiting in line.

Hey Philadelphia Weekly: Enjoyed the irony of your latest cover story. On the one hand, hipsters do kind of suck. On the other hand, aren’t they precisely the demographic your mag targets? That’s like Johnny doing a story called, “Why I Hate Nerds”. As for me, I don’t care about hipsters. The guys don’t like sports and the girls look like angry circus clowns, so I don’t have much use for ’em.

Continue reading “The Return of Bobby Badtimes” →

Sorry to disappoint. I’m sure all you hosebags thought that with all this press that this week was just gonna be one big Johnny Goodtimes Lovefest. Well bad news, suckers. Badtimes is here to rain on the old parade. First of all, Johnny, the scavenger hunt was a great idea. Everybody in this city just loves running around on 103 degree days trying to get pressed pennies from the Seaport Museum. You blockhead. And gee whiz, why not schedule it on a busier vacation week? Nevermind. THAT WOULD BE IMPOSSIBLE!

Continue reading “No, Not Bobby Badtimes! Not today!” →

Johnny Goodtimes went blow for blow for Philly Style magazine this week, and came out, as usual, a loser. Philly Style announced it’s winners for Philly’s best personalities of 2005, and ol’ Johnny didn’t make the cut.

Continue reading “Goodtimes Snubbed by Philly Style, Whines Like A little b****” →