Alex Rodriguez is a putz

I am having some serious abs pain, as I finally got going in a new workout routine, and my legs and arms are now feeling the same kind of burn. But I'm not doing nearly as bad as the steroid-taking, Kate Hudson-dating, striking-out-swinging Alex Rodriguez.
A-Fraud is 0 for 8 with 6 strikeouts in the World Series (admittedly after a good Division & Championship couple of series). That STINKS! And he stinks. Wifey asked who I wanted to win on the day of the first World Series game and I told her I'd like the Phillies to win. I do like Jeter, and hope he wins the MVP this year for the first time, but the Phillies are in the NL East with my Nationals and that says something. What it says is that we lost a great deal of games (15 out of 18) to the best team in baseball throughout the regular season. Then Wifey asked about wanting Jeter to get another win, which I'm totally into,
but with this caveat - Gay-Rod goes 0 for 20 with strikeouts galore - that would be Clah-sic. And right now both of those desires are a possibility, so I'm doing pretty well. Go Yanks. Go Phils. Whatever, just Go Away A-Roid.


Happy Halloween everybody.

PS -
A favorite quote for birthdays (from The Man Who Knew Too Little with Bill Murray):

"It's my birthday and I thought you might forget, so I came over to get my presents."

My man, Mr. Tony

It's raining here in Nashville (or Mustacheland as the hipsters seem to want to make it), and my knee got tweaked making a turn around the a corner, and there is a stank coming from my rear end that actually caused an old woman to faint behind me. I'm sorry about that, Bernice.


But none of that can cause me to be feeling unwell - not even you, Bernice - "because I got my man, who could ask for anything more?"


Mr. Tony Kornheiser
always classy, always kvething. Epic!

... these are a few of my favorite things....

I wrenched my back last night, I'm assuming during the Ultimate Frisbee game. I would like to not have that going on today. Also, the repaired knee is hurting a good bit as well. And I'm not going to have a burrito for lunch, so it;s not looking good for the ole Ry-ry.


Waaaaahhhhh

lipped out

The Ulitmate Frisbee games have been happening on Thurs nights and Sun morning recently. And last Sun I played with just 4 other people, and had been out until 4 in the AM on Sat night. So as the game got started, I could feel I was dragging a bit - the mind was willing, the body was not - and I recalled a baseball game as a kid I had to sit out after getting hit in the nose with a baseball during the warm-up. As the game went on, I thought about the baseball incident a little more and more, and made extra pains to pick my feet up when running so as not to fall down, and make sure I left enough room between my opponents so as not to hurt anyone else. And then at about three-fourths of the way through the game I was all by myself chasing after a floating disc that was coming back towards me at a dangerous angle. I raised my hands (yes both of them), and I was dismayed to see the disc get to my hands, go right on past them and smack me on the mouth. Damn it. What the hell is wrong with me? So all that to say this: my lip hurts. Not the whole thing, just the top lip. Just the right side, too. Just the upper right portion of the lip from the 3rd tooth over to about the 5th tooth on the upper portion of the mouth hurts. I see now why Wifey had me start this blog.

classic

So I went to a Neurologist yesterday to have the colors and slight headaches checked out. Turns out this quack thinks it's Classic Migraines. Says it's text book symptoms. Can you believe this guy? We all know it's really a brain tumor. He's just trying to take the easy way out so he doesn't have to deal with me any longer. What a jerk. So now I have to walk around with an occasional, mild discomfort
and this guy gets the satisfaction of knowing he can let me go off into the sunset and not have to worry about me ever again. Must be nice. Some doctor this guy is, huh?

I've been thinking... and that's the problem

(new best friend, under my protest)

I don't see my Buddy enough. He was my Best Man at my wedding (yes, to Wifey), and the guy I knew would serve such a role since I met him back in 1994. He's a great guy. And was the absolute best Best Man I've ever seen - he's great at giving speeches (especially to a large crowd - like a wedding), commanding at giving away a friend's money (to the Priest for the ceremony), a spectacularly calming force in a nerve-racking situation like a wedding day (whereas another of my friends suggested that if I wanted to run, he had a car running and waiting to go far, far away - Thanks, Joe), and he is decisively the best host of a Bachelor Party EVAH! So, I just wanted to have it noted that I love my Best Man, and hope is enjoying this evening, another in the long line of Sept. "Jimmy Shaker Days" - sweet, sweet Jimmy Shaker....


And another thing... and this actually belongs in the "Ailing" blog....

Why can't we live in Australia? Or New Zealand, or even Italy or one of those European countries that are considered "not so crazy"? I don't want to become citizen of another country, or anything, but I want Cutie 2 to be better off than me, and the only thing that could have been better than my childhood would have been to be raised with an understanding of the world. I had a good time getting to travel around America when I was a kid, and then a little more when I got older, and if Wifey hesitate Cutie 2 may be stuck without that experience and all because I didn't stay in school. Meanwhile, if we move now we could give her that opportunity, but if not we may be damning her to a closed campus because of her parents doing, and I don't want to do that to her. At least not yet. She can't speak and when she mutters aloud it's too adorable to think anything other than cute dreams of her so far. And with all that hair, it's as if she's old enough to know better, but smart enough not to talk.

So to sum up, it goes:
- Vote for Nate
and
- I feel inadequate about my being able to provide a full living experience to Maevy.


Sweet. Let's get wasted.

There's a lady who I spoke to earlier on the phone, but I have met in person before, and she did not give me the info I requested. And this southern thing that goes "Here's the info you asked for, not all of it, but enough that you'll hopefully go away. And I'm going to say it a really nice tone so you don't notice that I'm not near as helpful as I sound. Oh, and when we hang up I will complain about you and how pushy you were and how much info you wanted..."
Yeah, I'm about done with that crap. To me, the lady that pulls that with me may as well be this woman:


I'm no northern guy (read: aggressive and forceful), on the contrary, I have always relied on the kindness of strangers, and I've always found that being unassuming and relaxed makes it a whole lot easier for people to want to help you. But when I hear that lilting voice talking beyond me in the hopes of me going somewhere else, it angers my blood. Now, there's a hitch in my argument against this type of conversation: I like hot chicks. I've always said that "A vote for me is a Vote for Hot Chicks" and when I see an attractive women I tend to give her a little (a lot) more leeway, even with the condescending tone. I

(old school hotties)