From the files of “You Can’t Make This Shit Up” comes another story of fan on fan violence at sporting events. This time however, it apparently involved an LA mother and son curb-stomping some poor goomba from NYC because he was wearing another team’s jersey and that just can’t be tolerated. Is this really where we are? It’s 20-motherfucking-15 people! I’d like to think that we as a society have gotten passed such trivial nonsense as physical violence toward another human being because he wants one group of men to outscore another group of men in a game most people stopped playing before they had hair on their chinny-chin-balls. Look, I don’t want to get off on a rant here but let’s call this exactly what it is: Donald Trump’s fault. That’s right. Thought I was going somewhere else with that? No such luck people. Let me explain. We as a society have slowly (and sometimes catastrophically rapidly) slid down the mental meter over the past 50 years. We have gone from caring about putting men on the moon and discovering advances in science to putting blowjob heiresses on TV and discovering new video/selfie apps for our piece of toast-sized phones. The day the top scientist decided curing male impotence/baldness was more important than cancer is the day we gave up. So as we stand in line overnight to get the new iPhone, asshats like Trump have slowly been gathering power and support and are waiting for the day when they can completely pull the wool over out eyes and achieve the ultimate power status – leading the free world. We have completely turned into the “no way this could ever happen to us” future in the movie Idiocracy. Violence plagues our TV and movies, we worship sports stars like they were gods (you don’t? Would you ever wear some random dude’s name on the back of your jersey like you were going steady? But you have no problem wearing some 24 year old physical specimen’s name everywhere you go…) we have devolved into some Mad Max-type Thunderdome society. So don’t get mad at mom and her lil’ fella for doing what we have taught them to do their entire lives: worship teams and products and stars like they were their own and go ahead and fight/stab/shoot anyone who says you’re wrong. Hell that’s just what President Camacho – I mean what President Trump wants. But I digress…

So as I browse the plethora of double X chromosomal friends that are currently on my social media radar, I can't help but think of a certain term that was brought to my attention a few years ago: Vaginal Hubris. Look, I like girls... wait, let me rephrase that... I like women.  Probably as much or as more than the next guy. Ol' UB tends to fall ass over elbows quite easily for a pretty face and a willingness to attend a baseball game but holy shit ladies, enough is enough. Let me define Vaginal Hubris. Actually, let me define hubris first. then I think you can connect the proverbial dots. Hubris is defined as "excessive pride or self-confidence". Hubris can be a good thing. Shit, hubris can be something that separates you or gets you out of a tough situation. But when hubris is connected or paired with something that may not need the aforementioned confidence, then we have a problem. Look, I don't want to get off on a rant here but holy shit keep it in your pants, girls! OK, I get it. You were hurt. Maybe hurt more than you deserved and I know that climbing a metaphorical mountain and screaming "I Wont Back Down" from the top is part of the rebuilding process but what I don't need to hear is how that now you're single, ol' ex-boyfriend Dick McSmallcock won't get that sweet apple pie anymore. I'm all for female empowerment, hell we let you vote right? But let's just pump the brakes (insert female driving joke here). I know that you want to let the one that got away know what sweet tenderness he is missing by posting a picture of a cherry pie on Facebook then tagging it with "super tight, all night #BetterThanYou" but is that really what you want out on the internet? I'm sure your mom/grandma/dad is just tickled that you are proclaiming to the virtual world that your former lover had it, then lost it and will never get that sweet thistle pie anymore. And while we are at it, how come all my references - and all in history - of vaginas are that of pie? Can we not think of something else to compare what may be the best thing invented other than baseball to? Or maybe I'm just lonely and hoping to White Knight some shit online... but I digress.