the curse is lifted

stopped by dunkin donuts this morning for a cuppajoe and to stare longingly at the maple-frosted donuts topped with candycorn. you think in china they put candy on top of donuts? in europe? fuck no. that's why america is awesome. plus we're the WORLD SERIES CHAMPIONS, or so trumpeteth the early edition papers stacked by the counter.

- good morning! - says the one other customer, a slight elderly man wearing carhartts and construction boots. i am sure he belongs to the ford f150 outside. -How are YOU?
- fine - and then reluctantly - how are you.
- specTACular.
he grins at me and god help me his smile's almost contagious. i play along begrudgingly .
- why, are you a phils fan?
he throws his head back and laaaaaafs. the woman behind the counter looks at me pityingly as she hands me my coffee. apparently you don't get this dude wound up.
- oh NO. i don't have nothing to do with those pro athletes. turn the game into something it was never meant to be. all this media and advertisin' and payin' a man eight million dollars cos seven ain't enough. it's a travesty, young lady, a travesty.
i nod and smile and walk toward the door; he follows.
- world series – i hear the sarcasm drip as he rolls the phrase over his tongue – that don't make no sense. you know what a REAL world series is?

i do. and what i would give to have CarharttMan with the "support our troops" ribbon and W sticker on his truck to tell me about the World Cup, but life isn't that neat is it.
- you go up to williamsport and you watch the Little Leaguers play. now THAT is a world series. you watch those little tykes from all over the world and you see how a game SHOULD be played. before it gets all complicated with ads and money and egos.
the ford chirps; he opens the door and nods at me.
- you have yourself a good day now.

CarharttMan may have a point, but if you saw the faces of each individual phils player as he ran to pile atop brad lidge after the final strikeout you saw the little leaguers ruiz, howard and utley. boil it down, and it's still The Game.


[if you want to see an amazing play from last night, check out this clutch move where second-baseman utley in a split-second sees there's no play on first and -- off balance -- throws a perfect ball to ruiz, who tags out what would have been the rays' go-ahead run . even the camera guy is fooled.]

i keep the bible in a pool of blood

lately i've been haunting the local football messageboard, don'taskwhy, and it is harder than you might think. first of all, i cannot keep my big piehole shut even if i know SFA about highschool football; and second, because students frequent the board and you get booted if you talk about drugs or use bad language, i have to use the TourettesCheck to make sure no shitfucksuckcunts slip out and get me banned. it is a different world out there, people. take this recent exchange:
[CYO = Catholic Youth Something]

sportwatcherhof

Re: CYO Football
Does anyone else find it a little strange how most of the kids on the CYO teams are not even catholic?

finleynine

Re: CYO Football
i find it a little strange that you know this, sportwatcher. do you have some kind of catholic divining rod?

sportwatcherhof

Re: CYO Football
finleynine.. No divining rod needed. I just know the kids and families that play with my son, and know who I see and don't see at church. It is a common fact that most teams have more non catholics than catholics. I am sure you know the people in your church.

what the fuck is "church." no i am sure i don't know the people there.

i do, however, know that according to this meme i'll subject you to, my body gets 43 miles per gallon. i don't know whether my not having thrown up or fainted from exertion upped or damped this #.

43 miles per gallon

what is it you say you do around here

To: all@MyCo.com
From: HeapusBigusBossus
Subject: More Actions

We ended Isabella’s contract today. Isabella helped us for approximately 5 months. She had some success, liked MyCo, and we liked her. Unfortunately, she did not help us enough to keep at this time.



To: loucypher
From: finn
Subject: Re: More Actions

who's -- oh nm.

-------------------------------
congrats go out to fastmammycat for running the dublin marathon today and taking 18min off her time last year. smashing.

my dog is hot

- have a good walk? - D asked last night when the dog and i got in just before dark.
- yes. a couple people stopped and said what a good-looking dog.
- were they guys?
- erm... yeah.
he snorted.
- what?
- total pickup line.
- i don't think so. he IS a good-looking dog.

that, and clad in an XXL Hate '90 shirt and court shorts down to my knees, cradling my sore swollen belly, bruises pooling from wrist to elbow and greyly po-faced i'm hardly pickup line material. but men are from mars and finns are from Blue.

zero sum

oh for fucks sake

i found this evidence in the sink last night:

if we're feeding the cats Fancy Feast in fairness the dog should get kobe tenderloin prepared nightly by wolfgang puck.

about the VP debate i have nothing to say except i can't believe 2004 might happen all over again. my only solace is that this time 'round i have the perfect jameson glass.

get a basset. or a b.collie

the cats needed food so yesternoon found me in the catfood aisle, which always makes me grumpy. why should i spend MY money on animals that, when they're not sleeping, are puking up half-digested small mammals, fighting in the middle of the night or shitting in the flowerbeds? where is the return on investment here?

standing in the catfood section inevitably brings up these sorts of existential questions and i was cranky as jean paul when a couple rolled up, she in Chanel sunglasses, he in a McNabb jersey. they were talking about how to stock up for her parents who'd be house-sitting this weekend.

- and we need catfood - she said as she breezed by fragrantly and stopped in front of the Fancy Feast. ha-fucking-ha. as if.
- i got catfood last week. it's in the basement. remember?
- oh no. that's not good enough for my mother.
my man grabs that pass...
- well, she ain't gotta eat it. does she.
...and runs it into the endzone.

i give him the victory-sign; he grins over her shoulder and she turns around, curious, but i'm already sliding away with my $3.99 bag of NutraCat. ON SALE bitches.

- why do you buy this shit? - D asks later - the cats won't eat it.
i'm unrepentant.
- good. they're too fat anyway.
- seriously. why can't you just buy the stuff they like?
- they'll eat it eventually. quit worrying.
and the evening went downhill from there.

cats. so not worth it.