The Power of Bo...

Apropos of nothing, I glimpsed a special on Bo Jackson on ESPN yesterday. They didn't show this part—or at least I didn't see it—but it dredged up the vestige of a memory from the early 1990s which I was pleased to find on YouTube.

Now let's think about how GOTdamn powerful that is. I mean, it took every ounce of strength in my body to break a remote control in half one night with my bare hands because its unresponsive buttons pissed me off for the last time. I'm sending this photo to its family as a warning.

But Bo snapped a standard MLB-approved Louisville Slugger over his leg like a pretzel rod, without breaking his own femur. And this was before steroids hit the league.

I have to applaud this display of pure, unfettered disgust. Every time I get pissed off about trivial and inconsequential things—which is all the time—I will endeavor to channel all of my chi into the Power of Bo.

P.S. Bo also broke a bat over his head, but that’s not as fantastic because he was wearing a helmet.

P.P.S. Phone books are easy compared to remote controls. And this one pissed me off because it appeared on my doorstep unrequested. Does anyone use phone books anymore? No, Yellow Pages, they do not. Senseless tree-killing, landfill-filling motherfuckers...