Here’s why I hate Bill Simmons, but can never stop reading him.

As I’ve stated before, I think Simmons (of ESPN.com’s “Sports Guy” fame, if you’re still completely lost) can be one damn funny dude. He can also be annoying, frattish and his references to New England’s various athletic teams has made me want to write “Screw Boston” in the snow every time I have to pee this winter.

Then he comes out with this gem.

I thought another article about the Ron Artest v. the people of Detroit fight, especially one written for ESPN the Magazine as opposed to just for the heathens that read his website, would be thick in “this is what’s wrong with society” and “I’m not taking my kids to an NBA game ever” and “you would never see an upstanding member of society like Boston Celtic Ricky Davis pull something like this”.

I was completely wrong.

The first paragraph is good enough by itself. I remember that I was working in the produce department at Kroger when the OJ chase went down, was in an apartment in Bowling Green when Lady Di died (living in Columbus at the time), and I don’t remember much about the second Tyson-Holyfield fight. And I certainly don’t remember what I was doing when it was on, but if you can’t give a man props for not only a Diff’rent Strokes reference, much less the one where Gordon Jump tries to take naughty pictures of Arnold and Dudley (I wonder what Dudley ever did with his career?), then you better stop trying to give a man his props. That was classic.

In fact, between that and the kinda bad band we caught 15 minutes of last night after work (the lead singer/guitarist was bizarre and twitchy, like an epileptic being hit with a taser), I’ve decided that if I ever start a band, it will include the name “Gordon Jump”, and all concert posters will have headshots of Arnold and Dudley.

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Want to know how easy kids have it now?

I remember the days of my childhood when the fun of opening a new box of cereal was shifting the contents either visually, or by rummaging through the cereal with your hand, and distorting the box to anything BUT box-shaped until you could find the toy inside. This morning, I opened a new box of Corn Pops (Yes, I’m 30 and eating Corn Pops. Deal with it.), which featured a Spongebob Squarepants watch inside. I open the box, and there it is. On the top, outside the bag of cereal, not even stuck to anything with that fun glue-type stuff that looks like a booger if you roll it up in your fingers. Just right there for the taking.

And they wonder what’s wrong with kids in society today. Heh.