I suppose I could've said something about the Sox winning the thing, but I've been fighting a persistent dry hack for two weeks now and, well, I'm just not that into the Sox as I used to be. Oh, I enjoyed the right proper stomping of the Christianist Rockies, but my Sox fever was broken and has been for some time, which I realized once Grady Little farted away an appearance in the '03 World Series to the Yankees -- and I didn't rage, but merely steamed. Thank Bill Buckner for that innoculation oh so long ago, eh?
Totally psyched I am, however, to catch the Pats/Colts mid-season SuperBowl on Sunday. Not certain where I'll catch it, but I figure I'll be on the road back from Maine prior to. Gotta visit my mom, who's in the hospital recovering from an elderly fractured pelvic girdle. Brutal! But what a tough nut she is, me mum, even if cracked. She fell and she got up!
I read today Schumer & Feinstein caved on the torture-apologist AG nomination today. No surprise. Schumer has ever been the pathetic milquetoast and Feinstein needs to shave her ears. Like, how 'bout it, California? Let's kick that old, whiskered tree-shrew to the curb, shall we?
So, what say to a bottle of red; pick up the DVDs (Spiderman 3; episodes of The L Word and The Rockford Files) at the P.O.; drop off the watched vids (Rescue Me and The Sopranos) at the store, grab a hot sub and turn in?
It's been a week.
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