(no subject)

I typed out a long ass entry and then realized that I can sum up the last 24 hours in a lot fewer words.

I was nearly an hour late for work because I stayed up too late drinking with friends and was unable to set the correct time on my alarm clock last night.

Lately I've been unable to pull the trigger with the ladies. This has been a huge setback.

Another day. Another dollar.

one more time...

I really miss Brasko. Anytime Roy Jones puts on his gloves, I'm reminded of the time that Brasko and I watched him fight John Ruiz when he moved up to heavyweight. Anyway, I can't wait for Saturday. Jones going at it one more time to set up a fight against Hopkins.


Writer's Block: On Base

The World Series begins today, meaning balls will be hit, bases run, and homeruns scored. Remember the first time you got to first base? What was it like?

Do they mean hitting a single in baseball or the first time that I kissed someone? Both stories took place the same day. I hit a pinch hit game winning single with two down and runners at the corners in little league and then my coach made out with me under the bleachers to celebrate. My mother didn't understand when I explained to her how big that win was, and had the coach arrested. What a confusing summer.

(no subject)

Is it true that one team has to win and one team has to lose? Yes.

Have I had to put up with the losing for the entire 100 years? No.

Am I pissed off that you couldn't find a way to win one fucking game in the playoffs, or score more than six runs in three games when you were the National League's most run producing team over the course of 162 games? A fucking little bit.

Burn, mother fucker. Burn.

P.S. You're next, Manning, if you don't learn how to act.