Yesterday at twilight, I was having some port and admiring my collections of Colombian emeralds and Nigerian schlong memes. Then I wondered how many people shared my passion for massive girth. To be honest, I don’t usually care how popular are the things I like. Usually.

To be honest Part II: I was drinking mid whisky and water, not port, which explains the self-doubt. So here are some thoughts on guilty pleasures, which explains the title. I resent all imputations of bad grammar or ESL-ness.

Guilty pleasures definitely exist and are the stuff we love, sometimes need—but kinda don’t tell anybody about because they will think I am vulnerable or lame or dumb or ridiculous or waaay pervier. It’s inevitable, we don’t want to share ALL of our interiorities, even if you were born in Puerto Rico or are a tWBS-level oversharer

/spills mid whisky and water.

Living requires interacting with other people, whether we don’t like it or hate it. As such, scrutiny or, worse, being stared at is a consideration.

Personally, I love ice cream cones. If I had my way, I would eat ice cream cones at home, alone. Licking don’t bother me much—in fact, I think tongues should be displayed more, especially for derision in professional settings. But I like putting the whole ice cream cone in my mouth, which either repulses or repulses hornily. Neither works, for me.

The only beings bereft of guilty pleasures are the Dos Equis’ Most Interesting Man in the World (R.I.P.), and AI bots. Everyone else has secret tastes that must remain secret because of shame. Well, shame or those tastes being criminal, but criminal tastes are usually covered in weekday posts around here.

NFL NEWS

Psyche! Let’s move on.

In general, I think adulthood is best measured through emotional maturity and whether discourse involves hurling dishware or office supplies. Individually, however, there’s the question of how much importance you give to other people’s opinions. Which is not a command to fly your freak flag at all times, although it could enliven a minor’s funeral. Not out of decency (God forbid), but out of an even more simple question: are you being an attentionwhore? Because, hey, even if you are the most eccentric cat around, Pay Attention 2 🎶Meeee🎶 is what spoiled friggin kids do—plus it’s most of the non-porn Internet. Attentionwhoring is commonplace, exactly what uniqueness isn’t.

SPROTS TOMITE

All times Central.

WNBA

Connecticut @ MinnesoUta – 6:00

Seattle @ Golden State – 7:30

GRANDES LIGAS

Twines (Paddack) @ Tigres (Skubal)  – 6:00

TOP FLIGHT FÚTBOL

Home team first #obvio

Concacaf Gold Cup

U.S.A.! U.S.A! v. Costa Rica – 6:00

Now, the clubs.

Bolivia

 The Strongest v. Universitario de Vinto – 6:30

 Colombia League Final

 Independiente Medellín v. Independiente Santa Fe – 6:00

It’s the 2nd leg, the first finished 0-0. So this is a true final, with the loser getting called  Dependientes for the rest of the summer.

/checks reaction

Tch, pearls before swine man

Ecuador

 Macará v. Emelec – 6:00

 Perú

 Cusco FC v. Alianza Universidad – 6:00

U.S.A.

 LAFC v. Vancouver Whitecaps – 8:30

FINALLY,

The Spongebob Squarepants Movie (TOP achievement of human fiction), Baby Metal over AC / DC every time, a hot dog with every disgusting topping that soaks and crumbles the bread (dynamite breakfast), hobo sangrías (equal parts beer and wine in a cup, hella efficient drunkenness), the [palm gestures] that women [finger gestures] WOOF!, old English TV spy shows with almost no action that look like filmed plays about Machiavellian careerists—I don’t feel guilty about any of those. And this is my favorite kind of noise.

As to this here DFO, there’s no guilty or shameful dithering whatsoever. It’s all refreshingly open debauchery.