The Friendly T

I was on the T today. It was pretty crowded as usual and there was not much room to stand. One girl near me was contorting her body so she could hold onto the edge of a seat. This did not help her stabilization. I was standing there holding onto the bar above me. The T quickly accelerated sending the girl's head flying into a direct hit on my elbow. I laughed inside as it was pretty funny. It looked like it hurt, but I am not sure it did because after she did it, she apologized.

A person who causes pain to themselves on you and then apologizes for it, despite the pain, must be a good person.

Taste

Glazed doughnuts from Dunkin Donuts might be the best taste available in solid form. I never really thought about the subject though, so I can not give you a definitive number one at this point. However, I do have the top two best tastes available in liquid form. Coming in at number two is the Strawberry Julius. You can buy them at your local Orange Julius location or if you are like me, you can make them yourself. Once I get a blender, the incredible taste sensation that is the Strawberry Julius will be enjoyed a great many times by myself and others who may be lucky enough to be in the area when I make them. Standing pat at the number one spot is the sweet, sweet taste of Coca-Cola Classic. Nothing in the world is as refreshing and tasteful as a nice cold Coke going down your throat. It is especially good when used in combination with salty foods such as pizza, cheese and crackers, nacho cheesier doritos, spicy doritos, pizza-flavored gold fish, or meatball subs with extra provologne.

Note: I do not work for Dunkin Donuts, Coca Cola, Orange Julius, or the cheese industry.

D-Lowe

Somehow I feel personally responsible for Derek Lowe's dramatic turn-around. He just shut out the Rockies at Coors Field for 7 innings. More people should be threatened with Frank Castillo (cough... Bronson).

Sneak attack

Also from the Red Sox - Dodgers game, here is a shorter and far less monumental story. I was sitting in my seat, minding my own business, when all of a sudden there was a comotion to my left. I look over and the first thing I see is a bunch of people looking at something. The second thing I see is the object of their attention. A guy is standing in the aisle facing me with a huge beach ball clutched to his chest. One second later, some other guy jumps at him from behind and takes him out in one fluid motion. That is the last I saw of those two guys until security made them stand up to take them away.

America's Pastime

I was at the Red Sox - Dodgers game Sunday night... you know, the one with "The Catch". The Dodgers were up with runners on base. I was in the process of being slightly mad at Pedro. Cue hard line drive to the gap... WHOAH...Pokey leaps forty feet in the air and grabs it. The crowd goes nuts. "Pokey! Pokey! Pokey" they exclaimed. It was the longest Pokey chant I have heard. It was longer then the time he
hit his first home run for the Red Sox. Now, this catch was made in the top of the 7th. Being Sunday, they were singing "God Bless America" during the 7th inning stretch. The singer comes out right after the inning ends as they want to get it over quickly to keep the game going. They show a close up of him on the scoreboard. Keep in mind this is all during the "Pokey" chant. He literally stands there for two minutes waiting for the crowd to stop. The stadium announcer tried once to introduce the singer but was drowned out by the crowd. On his second attempt, the announcer finally wins as the crowd realizes what is happening. The song beings and everyone is calm and singing along. He gets to the last line of the song.

"God bless..." Some guy a section over from me yells, "POKEY!" at the top of his lungs. The song ends and not one second later the "Pokey" chant starts up again. It goes until the start of the next inning. It was the most amazing thing ever. You know it is a good play when jubilant chanting is rudely interrupted by "God Bless America" and quickly recuperates after paying respect to the song. When the next half inning started, my only thought was, "God Bless America."

Close, but no sitar.

Yesterday was almost one of the all-time great moments in beer run history...

Having just finished a softball game, Tim decided he wanted to go out and grab a sixer. So he goes out and moments later, Gori walks in the house. I thought it was Tim coming back already and was a little surprised. After explaining my situation, Gori proclaimed that he also wanted some brewdawgs. I suggested he call Tim's cell phone and tell him to pick up a 12 instead. He calls and waits for Tim to pick up. A couple of second later, Tim's phone rings not two feet away. We look at each other and Gori lets out a disheartening, "Noooooooooooooo!" as he clenched his fist in pain. I knew we had to act fast. I grabbed my cell phone and dialed 411. I figured Tim must have gone to Blanchards. That is the fastest way to get beer. After an eternity of waiting for the operator to pick up and figure out the right Blanchards to call as well as listening to useless ads for movie times and whatnot, I get connected to Blanchards.

From the get go, I told the girl I had a strange request. She knew what she was getting into. I asked her to look for a guy in the store that is wearing a gray t-shirt and blue shorts. He has blond hair and is probably pretty scruffy looking due to softball. He is about 6 feet tall and let me remind you that he may look scruffy, disheveled even.

"If he is in the store," I said, "and is carrying a 6 pack, suggest to him that he should get a 12 pack instead."

She said, "Um ok..." I sensed her confusion so I repeated the whole description again.

This time I more distinctly said, "You should tell him to grab a 12 pack instead," just to ease any doubt as to whether he had a choice in the matter.

After hearing it a second time, she more comfortably replied, "So he is in the store now?"

I said "Maybe."

I felt all these questions were wasting valuable time that she could be looking for him, so I quickly ended the call. We had done all that we could. Our fate lied in the hands of a young, wide-eyed beer store clerk. Only time would tell if our efforts were sufficient. Seconds turned to minutes, minutes turned to hours, hours turned to days.

Two minutes later, we hear the stomping on the porch. The moment of truth had arrived. Would we be victorious or would we be forced to wallow in our own sobriety? The door knob turns, Tim walks in. Though the entry way was dark, I could see in his hands the magnificent form of a 12 bottle pack. So shocked was I that our plan had worked, I merely sat in silence. After some indiscernible amount of time had passed, I asked Tim if he went to Blanchards.

"No, I just went to Allston Food and Spirits or whatever it's called."

"Oh... yeah that's closer." I replied.

Parking in Boston

The streets in Boston are tremendously safe. I had to move my car due to street cleaning yesterday. On a side note, there is street cleaning twice a month. Is that really necessary? Once a month would be fine... but I salute Boston for annoying me twice a month. Anyway, back to parking in the streets being safe. So I had to move my car to a non street cleaning road. I found a spot and parked. On the sidewalk next to my car, there was broken glass from a break in the night before. Across the street, a car was parked with its whole bumper ripped off. It made me feel great to leave my car there.

Pedro and his wacky hijinks

Well, Pedro is back at it. No, not the real Pedro, video game Pedro. After D-Lowe gave up a home run in the first inning, I quickly became disinterested in the Red Sox game and decided to play a game in MVP Baseball 2004. I played the days game: the Red Sox at the Royals with a pitching matchup of D-Lowe vs. Chris George. The game started off on a good note, with Manny hitting a 2 run dinger in the first. By the time the 7th inning rolled along, it was 3-2. To start the 7th, D-Lowe walked the first guy then let up 2 hits to load the bases. Unlike Terry Francona, I sensed a bad thing happening and quickly gave D-Lowe the heave-hoe. In comes "Hard Throwing" Alan Embree. Single. Double. Ok, Ebree wasn't cutting it that day. I brought in Williamson and he got the job done to get out of the inning. Fast forward to the ninth. I get a couple of hits and yada, yada, yada, I tie the game. Williamson holds the Royals in the 9th and the game goes to extra innings. I bring in Timlin and Menblowza and they hold the Royals over the next 5 innings in a nerve-racking fashion.

It is now the top of 15th inning with Nomar, Manny, and D.O. due up. Royals closer Mike Macdougal is in his 3rd inning of work. Nomar Garciapopsup. Manny then proceeds to hit a 468 foot bomb into the fountains. I dramatically proclaimed, "Suck on THAT, MacDougal!" and I felt very satisfied. I promptly began to warm up Foulke in the pen. There were a couple more hits that inning, but I failed to score. Enter Foulke for the bottom of the inning. He gets 2 outs, then of course the inevitable happens. Benito Santiago hits a solo shot to tie the game.

Now it is the bottom of the 17th. I had just botched a suicide squeeze when Doug Mirabelli failed to get the bat on the ball. Foulke is in his third inning of work and is getting tired. He struggles his way to 2 outs with a runner on second. The next hitter hits a hard grounder to right field and the runner cannot score. Foulke is beat as is the rest of my bullpen. It is now time for the ultimate closer: Pedro Martinez. Pedro triumphantly waltzes to the mound to put an end to the threat. His first pitch is a high and tight fastball in which Desi Relaford nubs into left field for the game winning hit. Pedro curses the video game gods as the run comes home. Meanwhile, I am cursing Pedro and his uncanny ability to blow opportunities in which he used to thrive. I lay on my bed having flashbacks and Grady Little leaving Pedro in the game only to watch him let in run after run. The painful memories are enough to make a grown man cry.

I then realize this was a video game and I got up and ate a Smores granola bar.

Creed

Ok so my favorite band Creed has broken up. That is okay though since a new band has arisen. I used to think that the lead singer is everything in a band. If the lead singer leaves, you are no one. (see Talk Show) I have recently learned this is not the case all the time. (see Velvet Revolver and Tantric). All you need is a good singer as a replacement. So this is what I am hoping will come of Alter Bridge. Alter Bridge is Creed minus Scott Stapp. While Scott Stapp had a good voice, his lyrics are sometimes corny. All he did on Creed was write the lyrics. Mark Tremonti (now of Alter Bridge) wrote all the music. So I am thinking that Alter Bridge is going to be quite the band unless this new singer has a really horrible and whiny voice. Rock on!

Frank Castillo

Yesterday I proclaimed that one more bad start by Derek Lowe and I would start yelling "Frank Castillo" uncontrollably. I really don't want to have to do that. This is what the Red Sox do to me. Please make them stop.

Flying pens

So I am in a meeting yesterday and it was pretty boring. I was tired enough as it is and the content of the meeting did not help my situation. I was nodding off every other minute and when I was awake, I looked around and no one seemed to know I was sleeping. Finally during one of my nod offs, a pen came flying across the room and hit me in the stomach. The whole meeting stopped. I nonchalantly proclaimed, "I'm all set," and after a brief moment of confusion, the meeting went on.

Rain

Yesterday it rained the hardest it had rained in a long time. It was supposed to hail but we didn't get any and I was pretty mad about that. Anyway, it stopped raining so I went to Dunkin Donuts and bought 50 munchkins. In the confusion of trying to count all 50 munchkins, the guy totally miscounted and ended up giving me way more than 50. Despite the fact that he sneaked in two coconut munchkins, it was a great day.

Like the Red Sox

Yesterday I left 5 runners on base in my softball game; once with the bases loaded and once with 2 on. Both were fly balls and we lost in extra innings. It was tremendous.

Got a smoke?

No? It'd be a lot cooler if you did.


That's from Dazed and Confused of course. I was watching that the other night on Oxygen. Why this movie was on Oxygen is beyond me. It was definitely annoying though because I had to sit through all the commercials for women's products, women's tv shows, and how to stop heart worms in dogs (again, why?).