Good on so many fronts, first and foremost, he's healthy. Pitching is secondary.
But, if for a moment, the thought of him coming out of the bullpen is pretty sweet. ----- I'm not a Duke hater (but not a fan). I'm not a Carolina hater (but can't stand Roy). I have zero opinion of NC State now that Herb left and ditto Wake Forest after Tim Duncan left.
But I love this sign...creativity. Something terribly lacking among most student sections around the country. ----- Not to beat a dead horse (ba-dum-bum, crash), but are people over Barbaro yet?
Or is there some horsey Hamlet out there penning his "Good night, sweet prince" for the four-legged equine saviour that Barbaro was?
He ate sugarcubes and carrots, ran real fast, and made lots of poop. That's Barbaro to me, sans any poetic fashion or rhetorical device.
Now, can we figure out how exactly we rid ourselves of the Middle Eastern quagmire, or should I pen an English sonnet to the fact that Smarty shampooing Jones is a gelding? ----- Why won't it surprise me that Greg Oden won't leave early?
Two reasons: because I don't think his classmates will, either. Call it the Joakim Noah effect.
And secondly, I think he's probably making more than the NBA minimum this season in Columbus. ----- Without becoming one of these shampooing people who wax nostalgic about how great a life their dog has and, if they could come back as someone it would be their respective canine...I'm sorry...my dog has it pretty good.
And she's cool as shit.
In New England parlance, my dog Kaleigh is a "good kid."
Off to the packie, right after I get a drink from the bubblah. I'm wicked thirsty. ----- Athletic and well-coached will beat non-athletic and ok-coached every single day, twice on Sunday, and include Leap Years. ----- Memo to Gov. Carcieri: voted for you, would vote twice for you if given the opportunity. But if you get a chance, now that you're doing the budget and all, um...I can almost see my breath in my office and my fingers are blue.
I'm just saying... ----- Theo Epstein got married at Nathan's original hot dog stand in Coney Island?
How shampooing cool is that?
I've been there, as I dated a Brooklyn girl in a former life. But the dogs at Nathan's on Surf Ave. are so much better than the ones you'd get in a mall food court or in LaGuardia Airport.
Maybe it's the old grease or whatever, but they're great.
People like Dennis and Callahan and the EEIdiots who call in all day will probably come up with conspiracy theories or lame jokes about Theo having to downscale his nuptials because of the JD Drew contract...but I know the correlation.
Theo wanted to do it to reach out to the next wave of Fenway Sports Marketing sponsorship: Kobayshi.
Matzusaka - the best pitcher in Japan.
Kobayashi - the best eater in Japan.
It's synergy, fool. (and yes, we here at Tilber are aware of the joke...) ----- ok, that's it for now.
I understand the owner, breeder, trainer - it was their "baby," as well as their lucrative investment. But the people who post on the Barbaro message board? Deadspin spoofed these people, but quite often, the humor in sarcasm lies in the fact that it's true.
There are people dying in the streets, homeless...drug addicts...kids with nowhere to go.
And the nation pours out its heart for a shampooing horse...
I get confused by people sometimes. I guess it takes a base of insanity to be able to translate for the insane. ----- There's the Super Bowl on Sunday, I guess.
Who cares? I hope neither team wins. I really couldn't care less.
If it's not the Pats, and not the Saints, then I don't care.
Not watching it. Don't care about the commercials. It's all crap to me. I see Sunday night as a time for me to get some reading done, watch some movies and go to bed by like 8.
Yeah, I'm a real social shampooing butterfly, huh? ----- Can't get enough of the Shins new album. And I love the Decemberists.
Both can't misses. ----- Watched Little Miss Sunshine again. Was raved to about it, saw it, liked, didn't love it.
But watched it again (hello, redundancy), and loved it.
Steve Carell played a great role as the straight (gay) guy, the little girl was great, and Toni Collette - very underrated.
Alan Arkin - also priceless. ----- I sat down for dinner with some older folks who are friends of the program. Seven minutes in - two C words and one T word. Amazing. ----- Todd Helton. I'm not against it, if it costs us two old dudes, Craig Hansen and the Rockies pay half.
He brings a good bat, a solid glove, is a good clubhouse guy, and I can part with Lowell, Tavarez, and a guy who has one pitch. ----- Memo to folks who IM me: don't do it non-stop.
And if I write back with one word answers like "yep," "huh," and "fine," then take the shampooing hint. ----- When did it become Winter and why didn't anyone tell me? I liked it alot better not wearing a coat at Christmas time. ----- Here's a joke I heard the other day, I thought it was great.
Q: How many kids with ADD does it take to screw in a lightbulb? A: Wanna go on a bike ride, ooh I like pickles!?! ----- 0-21?
Just killing our RPI. Killing it. ----- Need to make a new mixtape for my car - the one I have is starting to get old.
If I do, perhaps I can upload it for all to enjoy. ----- Alright, I also need to start blogging more. And exercising. And to stop swearing and drinking.
So that LaDainian doesn't think that everything from New England is classless, well, I guess I probably shouldn't say anything about tonight's AFC Championship.
The NFL got what it wanted: their Sprint NFL Mobile spokeswoman is QBing the AFC team.
The chair of rule committee got what he wanted: a cheap pass interference call to help decide a game.
And I didn't get what I wanted: a fitting end to Troy Brown's career.
And then I heard Chase shampooing Utley got an 85 million dollar contract. Sobered me up right quick,
(at least Marquette won at Pitt.)
Well, the Patriots lost an AFC Championship. And they lost it doing quite the same things that you got accustomed to seeing their opponents do: 12 men on the field penalties; dropped passes (Reche, I could've made two of those, and my 40 time is about a week and a half); and well, bad timing. (and by bad timing, I mean, Bill Polian-influenced shit calls. But I'll keep it classy).
Consider this my Rex Grossman Fan Club application. I hate the Colts, hate Peyton, hate Tony Dungy, hate their owner, hate their President, hate their entire being. The only thing I like about Indy is St. Elmo's Steakhouse. And the Steak n' Shake.
Chase Utley is an 85 millionaire. Peyton is in the Super Bowl.
Could things get worse? Could someone just...oh forget it, I'm not even going to throw that out there. Who knows what would happen.
Unless Reche Caldwell was there. Then, well, we know the ending. ----- Thank you, Troy Brown. My favorite Patriot.
Double Oh Seven
I've been away for a bit. Not much in terms of prose when I've posted, usually just a Chappelle Show clip or two.
No holiday greetings.
No humourous holiday anecdotes or use of the useless extra "u" in words, akin to British English.
No drunken holiday posts.
No foolish predictions.
No unrealistic resolutions. (and besides, New Year's resolutions are stupid...just stupid...you always resolve to do shit that you know is physically realistic but personally impossible..."i wanna lose 15 pounds," meanwhile you double-order those curly-fries...i have a new year's resolution: i want to be taller, see Iona win a game, and get a job as a microbiologist...get the shampoo out of here with this crap...)
Did I lose my muse? No, unless you count Ennui as a muse. I've just lacked that certain je ne sais quoi recently. In the MKE, it was often a bottle of red and the iPod Sounddock on level eight.
Now, it's just different. A better different. A different different.
This past year, the six or seven times I flew back to greater Metropolitan God's Country area, when the flight attendant welcomed me to Rhode Island/Boston/Hartford, I was euphoric.
And as he/she/he-she was reminding me that it was necessary to keep my seat belt buckled and for me to remain in my seat until the plane had stopped at the gate and the captain had turned the seatbelt sign off...forget that...I was looking for a way to climb out of the window, hop off the wing, and dance on the tarmac. I was home, if ever so briefly.
Just after Christmas, went on my first road trip at the new place, and came home on Dec. 31. When we arrived back in the PVD, it wasn't euphoria. It wasn't white blinding excitement.
I wasn't sitting in seat 14 A, trying to jump the rows five-at-a-time to get off the rig, running to gate 14 for a Dunkin Donuts (large hot, extra skim, one sugar), and then to grab my bags and whisk off to catch my ride...
Nope. I was just on a plane that landed.
Does that seem like a downer? Hardly.
I took off from PVD. I landed in PVD. That means...yep...home. Again. Jiggity-jig. ----- Christmas provided me with some nice tangible gifts to unwrap under the tree. But the best gift came before Halloween.
Piece of mind. Comfort. Friends. Family. Old acquaintances. New mates. Dunkin Donuts every 150 yards. It's home.
Now, before y'all are thinking that I'm Little Mr. Sunshine now, you're wrong. I'm still in the running for the Nobel Prize for Cynicism. The Fields Medal for Sarcasm. JD Power & Associates still have me in the top three for angry flippant folk.
But it's all grounded now.
Because of the ground I'm on. ----- Getting back to the previous flight allusion: Southwest Airlines.
More like Southworst Airlines. (I just made that up. I'm also going back to 4th grade for jokes.)
I realize they're making money - prolly the only airline to do such a thing these days - but damn...I know what the folks in steerage felt like on the Titanic.
Make it worse when it's a group of folks trying to fly SWA. Not good times. Especially if you lack the "A" boarding pass. Luckily I didn't get stuck with a middle seat. In fact, on flight segment 1 of like 9, I did have a rather attractive young miss next to me.
But then you do that quick goat math and realize: "yeah, I'm 10 years older than this one..." you feel like the creepy old guy in the club. You know that guy... You've seen that guy... You've made fun of that guy...
I'm that guy. Shampoo. ----- Patriots play tomorrow.
I fear the worst. I just do. These Pats haven't shown me that sense of urgency that I always thought the team had in the past.
Whatever. The most important game of the day in Southern New England isn't in Foxboro at 1 p.m., it's in Kingston at noon. ----- Back to the "old guy/club" thing - got my first official "so, when are you going to go on a date/meet a nice girl?" thing from the folks today.
Hov sang: Ain't no love in the heart of the city, ain't no love in the heart of town...
Sure as shit ain't no love at home games, either. So, the Cliff Notes version of that answer: no shampooing idea.
Can I Live? ----- Jarvis Cocker has the song of the Year already. It's a tune from 2006, but I'm just getting turned onto it, so it's new to me.
And it's not out in the U.S. yet, so technically it's still new.
The song is called "Running the World." It's not the whole title of the song, as candor and decorum prevents me from listing it (despite it being my favorite four-letter word...)
But it's real.
Here's the YouTube video for the tune. Enjoy.
----- That's it from here.
The goal is to try to resume regular postings, but who knows.