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hopping away
10/14/2006 = 04:48 AM

This week measured, unofficially, somewhere between stupid-and-a-half and stupid-and-three-quarters on my Aauughh-o-Meter.

I'm not going to go into details, but if I could lose a jean size for every time I pull a miracle out of my arse, I'd be rocking a size zero, hardcore.

As is common in these parts, some wags took it upon themselves to wipe words into the exterior dust on a semi-tractor-trailer I saw on the highway yesterday. Amongst such profound wisdom as "Wash Me" and "Fuck Off" were the words "Yankees Suck," which immediately led me to respond aloud, "Yeah, but do they swallow?"

Because if I can't be more clever than the Highway Dustbloggers (which would be a really good name for a rock band, incidentally), then I might as well pack it up.

Also on the highway yesterday, we were cut off (doing 75 in the right lane of a 65, ourselves) by a zoomy maniac in a ridiculously testosterone-laden sports car, and as That Man of Mine was intoning to the Powers that Be, "Please let theyah be a kawp up theyah," I discovered that I'm married to a guy with the baseball knowledge of Sam, the hairline of Coach, the body of Norm, and the voice of Cliff.

I'm not sure what, exactly, he gets from Woody, but my guess is that it's probably his impaired ability to shop for bedding.

Cheers.

Brain Mistake of the Week:

Saw a guy cleaning a business parking lot and thought to myself, "That's nice that that guy can bring his dog to work," and then I realized it wasn't a dog on a leash, it was a black dustpan on a handle.

I think I need a weekend.

See you in Cooperstown. Ommegang brewery. Waffles and puppets, starting at noon. And cheese with hops in.

In preparation for today's festivities, it was in my best interest to have a little something for pain before bed last night. Whooooaaaaa.

I am told by That Man of Mine that, just before I drifted off to sleep, I murmured, "Ye can take awee mah French toast, boot ye'll naer take awee mah freedoom."

I remember craving French toast, but I have no recollection of having said that, so he probably made it up.

Here is the brain confetti I do remember:

I was watching Brad Sherwood .:mrwowr:. Whose Line Is It Anyway? and there was a commercial for Itsy Bitsy Spider-Man. I was waiting for the Energizer Bunny, but he was totally a no-show.

'Cos it's real.

This struck me, at the time, as incredibly funny, and I remember laughing hysterically and squealing, "They're selling an Itsy Bitsy Spider-Man! And they mean it!"

We have to leave early so as to get to the Cooperstown post office around 9 am. That Man of Mine likes to mail things, especially baseball cards, with their postmark. So that'll do it for now.

Tags: Yankees, Cheers, Ommegang

drinking: tea
listening to: nothing
dinner toss-ups: fish or pasta. leaning toward fish