I've become one of those people
...who yells at baseball players on TV. Like, what the fuck, how did you miss that ball? And um hello, what on earth are you swinging at? This isn't golf.
I have lost complete touch with myself. I no longer know who I am.
But I do know that the Cubbies play today at 1:00, so I'm planning my painting around that. This morning I'll work, have lunch with the Wonka, then go over to S.'s place to paint a second coat on my soon-to-be home office--and listen to the Cubbies.
And I'm not exactly in the know, but um, do we loathe Barry Bonds or what? His name will forever be associated with steroids in my mind, and um, he looks like he knows nobody likes him. And Will Ohman, S.'s least favorite Cubbie, struck him out last night. That felt good.
Look at me with all my sports talk. Call the paramedics.
Labels: baseball
posted by aerobil @ 6:13 AM
3 comments
3 Comments:
Yelling at the TV--one of the great joys of football season! For me, it usually consists of saying "c'mon" repeatedly and rapidly--like, "c'mon-c'mon-c'mon-c'mon-c'MON" when my team needs to a) advance the ball or b) tackle the other team, which is advancing the ball, or b) a ball is sailing toward the uprights on a field goal kick...
Oh, and "my team" is variable--I'm not the most loyal fan ever. Except to the Seahawks. And that can be a bit like being a Cubbies fan.
Hey, I've tagged you over at my blog for a meme!
Yes, Will Ohman got lucky on Wednesday, but Mr. Roid Rage (Bonds) hit a 3-run homer off him Thursday that might still be going! Anything that flies that far should have a flight attendent & serve drinks.
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