While sweating my ass off mowing my lawn today, my mind started to wander - and that's usually not a good thing. Well, today, I started thinking about people's motivation to invent some of the great things we have today.
Of course, today, I started thinking about the dude who invented the air conditioner. I'm sure, like me, this cat was sweating his balls off somewhere and finally said "Enough of this shit," and said I have to figure out a way to make it cool in my house even though it's hot outside. What a friggin genius. Anyway, that led me to think about other inventions and their origins.
Here's just a few:
-- Toilet paper. You know some dude was getting tired of that itchy-I-didn't-wipe-enough-feeling in his arse when he came up with the idea for TP. Either that, or he was tired of shoving leaves up his butt. Either way, great job to whoever came up with TP. I wonder if he's the same guy who came up with idea for putting it on a roll.
-- The condom. Somewhere, some dude was banging dames left and right, but also banging out kids left and right. So he probably said to himself. "I can either stop banging dames or cover my penis with something to stop the kids being banged out". Of course, stop banging dames was not an option, so the condom was born.
-- Eggs. OK, not the actual egg, but the idea of eating eggs. Think about it, what sick fuck walked by a chicken, saw the eggs in a nest and thought "I bet if I heat up those unborn chicks, add in some ham, cheese and peppers, I'd have a nice breakfast." Anyway, I'm glad he did.
-- Jock strap. This one I really can't figure out. How did some dude realize the best way to keep from hurting yourself during athletic competition is to pack your balls as tight as they can be against your body? On a related note, you gotta figure the dude who invented the cup took many a shot to the package in his day.
A few other things:
Last Saturday my neighbor and me put up a garage-door opener at my dad's hut in anticipation of his arrival home from the hospital. Anyway me and my neighbor wrapped up around 2 bells and me - being a nice guy who didn't really do much of the garage-door opener installing - offered to buy him lunch at a local watering hole. Well we get into the place and there are about 3 other hard-core cats in there banging down tastes. We order lunch, bang down some tastes and watch the Yankee Old Timer's Day shit on TV. Well, I guess I dropped many an F-Bomb watching David Cone and Darryl Strawberry being lauded as great Yankees that as I ordered my 4th beer, the bartender says to me "I'll give you another one, but you have to watch the language." I wanted to say "Are you fucking kidding me?" but I bit my filthy tongue. As it turned out, an older couple (in their 60s) were having lunch on the other side of the bar. Now, before you rip me, there is a dining room in this place that they could've went to at anytime during my 4-letter-word filled tirade. But they didn't. Plus, if you walk into a dive bar in Central Jersey at 2 p.m. on a Saturday, you should be prepared - rather expect -to hear salty language.
One final note: I've been a Met fan forever, and I still feel there will be some serious drama/tension in this regular season, and by that I mean I can see the Phils or Braves or Fish getting to within 5 or 6 games in late August/early September. It's the Mets. Nothing is ever easy.
That's all for now. I've sort of lost track of the beer count, but promise an updated figure for my next post.
Hmm, I wonder who invented beer.
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Friday, June 23, 2006
A WHALE OF A DAD
Well, it's been a while, but with Joe Pendleton Sr. still banged up, blogging not a real big priority right now.
As for Mr. Pendleton, his surgery on Saturday was a success, but he's still in the hospital. Due to the major stomach surgery he underwent, eating is still out. The cat is dying for a big Denny's breakfast, but that could be a while.
While I'm so happy the surgery went well and we believe all of the cancer is gone, it's still hard to see someone you love with tubes coming out of everywhere and pretty much confined to a hospital bed. Still, it beats the alternative.
The one good thing about Pop having surgery this week was my bro from California came to NJ for the weekend. I hadn't seen the dude since Turkey Day, so it was good to see him. We went to see Nacho Libre together Sunday night. It was a tremendous trip. It was my first movie in about a 8 months that didn't feature computer generated characters or a cartoon. It was a great flick. If you're into Jack Black, check it out. Part of the weekend also featured my first trip to White Castle since the big diet began in January. If you really want to enjoy a White Castle, go 6 months without one and then bang down a few. Man, those things are friggin good.
The weekend also concluded with the Whale capturing the Stanley Cup. It was pumped for the Canes win until Gary Bettman got on his knees and sucked off Canes owner Peter Karmanos for believing hockey could work in Raleigh. Honestly, is Afghanistan had offered that dude some cash to build an arena, he would've moved there.
I think the thing I will miss most about hockey being over is Doc Emerick, who, in the last 2 months re-established himself as the best play-by-play man in any sport. The dude could make taking a shit exciting. Wait a minute, taking a shit is exciting.
Speaking of taking a shit, the Pendleton household finally has its new bathroom. Since the week before Memorial Day, we had been w/0 a shower and upstairs bathroom since it was being completely redone. I was taking showers at Mrs. Pendleton Srs house, and, when I couldn't get over there, was washing my hair in the kitchen sink. I wrote a few months ago how underrated a foot is. Let me tell you, a bathroom is even more underrated.
As for the Mets. It's clear they will win the NL East, but I gotta tell you, every Met fan will be holding their breath in October when Billy Wagner comes charging in. The dude has been shaky all season, and will be a huge question mark come October.
That's all for now.
Sorry about the limited schtick. I'm sitting here at 3:15 a.m. typing this in while drinking a Coors Light. How fucking depressing is my life?
As for Mr. Pendleton, his surgery on Saturday was a success, but he's still in the hospital. Due to the major stomach surgery he underwent, eating is still out. The cat is dying for a big Denny's breakfast, but that could be a while.
While I'm so happy the surgery went well and we believe all of the cancer is gone, it's still hard to see someone you love with tubes coming out of everywhere and pretty much confined to a hospital bed. Still, it beats the alternative.
The one good thing about Pop having surgery this week was my bro from California came to NJ for the weekend. I hadn't seen the dude since Turkey Day, so it was good to see him. We went to see Nacho Libre together Sunday night. It was a tremendous trip. It was my first movie in about a 8 months that didn't feature computer generated characters or a cartoon. It was a great flick. If you're into Jack Black, check it out. Part of the weekend also featured my first trip to White Castle since the big diet began in January. If you really want to enjoy a White Castle, go 6 months without one and then bang down a few. Man, those things are friggin good.
The weekend also concluded with the Whale capturing the Stanley Cup. It was pumped for the Canes win until Gary Bettman got on his knees and sucked off Canes owner Peter Karmanos for believing hockey could work in Raleigh. Honestly, is Afghanistan had offered that dude some cash to build an arena, he would've moved there.
I think the thing I will miss most about hockey being over is Doc Emerick, who, in the last 2 months re-established himself as the best play-by-play man in any sport. The dude could make taking a shit exciting. Wait a minute, taking a shit is exciting.
Speaking of taking a shit, the Pendleton household finally has its new bathroom. Since the week before Memorial Day, we had been w/0 a shower and upstairs bathroom since it was being completely redone. I was taking showers at Mrs. Pendleton Srs house, and, when I couldn't get over there, was washing my hair in the kitchen sink. I wrote a few months ago how underrated a foot is. Let me tell you, a bathroom is even more underrated.
As for the Mets. It's clear they will win the NL East, but I gotta tell you, every Met fan will be holding their breath in October when Billy Wagner comes charging in. The dude has been shaky all season, and will be a huge question mark come October.
That's all for now.
Sorry about the limited schtick. I'm sitting here at 3:15 a.m. typing this in while drinking a Coors Light. How fucking depressing is my life?
Thursday, June 15, 2006
HAIR AND NOW
With my hair starting to get out of control, I popped out of bed early today and headed for the local barber shop. When I say early, I mean 9:30, which is early for me.
Anyway, while sitting in the barber shop half asleep, my mind starting to wander as some short Italian dude got dangerously close to my ears with a pair of scissors.
Anyway, here's a peek into the brain of a tired man.
-- Billy Joel sucks. As I was getting the haircut, the radio played a live version of "My Life." I know everyone loves him, but let's face it, he sucks. Every one of his songs either A: Is pop bullshit; B: Is a cheesy love song, C: Is a tired singalong song. A few examples of each.
A: My Life - very gay, very shitty. We Didn't Start the Fire: Huge piece of shit. Uptown Girl: PURE STENCH.
B: Just the Way You Are: Sure, Christie Brinkley doesn';t need to change, but if you dame is fat and smelly, she could certainly go changing. New York State of Mind: YAWWWWWWWWWN.
C: And this is where I get really wound up. On a much earlier post, I stated there's nothing I hate more than drunk chicks in a bar singing real loud. Well, Piano Man might be the biggest catalyst to this kind of behavior. Only The Good Die Young also promotes this crap. Therefore, I hate both and the man who penned these songs.
Plus, if you look at Mr. Joel's work. He never sets a trend, he just goes with whatever is hot at the time and cashes in. Anyway, the dude sucks.
--- OK, this one will get me ripped, but here goes. Jessica Simpson is not hot. She's not. Sure, great tits, great arse, nice looking mug, but to me, her whole persona ruins it. She's a friggin nitwit - and believe me, while there's nothing wrong with dumb hot chicks - there's something about her nitwittiness that turns me off. Now if the dame arrived on my doorstep looking for some action and Mrs. Pendleton gave me the green light, I'd have to take care of her. But when she's on TV or on the internet or in the series of WHORE mags like STUFF and FHM, I'm not reaching for tissues and flashlight. I'll take Alba any day of the week. She's no Swank, either.
-- Being a barber has to be a shitty job. At least if you're a hair stylist - and not gay - you get the occassional hot dame. But a barber just has to deal with either smelly dudes or insane kids all day. At this moment, it's a smelly dude he's dealing with. I can certainly think of worse jobs, but cutting hair all day has to suck, especially in these PC times where you can't smoke, drink or curse in these barber shops.
-- I really hate that Ann Coulter dame. Ironically, I get what she is saying about the 911 wdows, which is, why should they have such a powerful voice because their hubbies died on 911. But this cunt - my favorite new word - has to rip these broads. Anyway, it's obvious this whore is stirring up just to stir it up and sell some books. The effect she's had on me is I feel no matter who runs on the Democratic ticket in 2008, that person - even if it's Mrs. Slick Willy - has to win. The ultra-conservatism of this country is driving me nuts. It won't be long before the FCC is charging me $350,000 for typing in cunt.
Well, that's it for now. Next haircut in about 8 weeks.
PS. Is anyone else having problems putting pictures on this thing? If you have any tips let me know.
Friday, June 09, 2006
ROLLERCOASTER OF LOVE
Well, what a week it's been.
Most of you already know, but if you don't, my dad was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer on Monday. It was quite a blow for the Pendleton family and needless to say Monday was one of the all-time shitty days.
However, on Tuesday, we got word the cancer has not spread and it is likely it can be removed by surgery, with some follow up chemo. What kills me is the dude has never smoked, is not a big drinker and takes very good care of himself. It just goes to show you never fucking know. Live it up while you can kids.
I've already learned in the last week or so not to get too high or too low and try to stay on an even keel. I'm well experienced in this emotional rollercoaster, being a long time follower of the New York Metropolitans.
Speaking of the Mets and cancer, I asked a young dude I work with the other day how the hell he could still be smoking after watching those anti-smoking ads they run on SNY. The one with the dude with the hole in his neck and cancer kazoo is the most disturbing and most powerful. I swear, if they ever started running ads on TV that beer drinking would do that to you, I would go cold turkey. I swear I would.
Anyway, some other notes:
-- I drove by a big, new Indian food market the other day and a sign out front advertised CUD at 2.99 for 11 pounds. Anything with that name and that price has to take like shit.
-- My all-time favorite movie "Rollercoaster" came on last night on something called the Retrochannel. I only watched the first hour since it was 4 a.m., but man the first 15 minutes of that movie, especially the part where an entire rollercoaster car of people land on their heads is pretty hard core.
-- Speaking of living it up, The Allen Oldies Band (see link on my link chart) will be staging its second annaul East Coast Invasion this weekend. Tonight, they are at Maxwell's in Hoboken. How hard core are these cats? They played 5.5 hours last year - without taking a break. And it's a high-octane, full energy oldies show. Their version of Snoopy vs. the Red Barron might be the greatest live performance I've ever seen.
-- For all you Springsteeners out there, a co-worker of mine told me a friend of his went to see The Boss at Conseco Fieldhut last week and only 4,000 folks showed up. That's nutty. My only indication of the Boss' popularity outside of NJ came in the early 90s, when I went to see him at the Richfield Coliseum outside of Cleveland for the Human Touch/Lucky Town tour. While the crowd was lively, there were plenty of empty seats in the hut. Of course, you can't blame anyone for not wanting to shell out $50 to see Shayne Fontaine.
-- Now to hockey. All I can say is if the Canes win that Cup, one of those dude - maybe Glen Wesley - should parade that bad boy through the streets of Hartford. And then Pete Laviolette should take it and shove it up Mike Modano's arse. Remember, Modano ripped Laviolette after the Olympics.
-- Now for my Yankee venting. I will agree that the catch by Melka Cabrerba was a great catch in a semi-big spot. Remember, it's only June 5. But for a-hole John Sterling to call it the best catch we've ever seen just shows you what a huge schill that dude it. I can name 10 Met catches off the top of my head that were better than that catch. And here they are in no particular order.
-- Tommie Agee's two amazing catches in the 69 Series.
-- Ron Swaboda's amazing catch in the 69 Series.
-- Jay Payton's running, jumping catch in San Fran a few years ago where he literallly took back a ball that was about 5 rows deep.
-- David Wright's barehanded catch.
-- Patrick Howell's (remember him) running catch into the right field wall. I'll say sometime around 1995.
-- David Wright's catch in Seattle last year where he went into the stands to catch a ball. Unlike Derek Jeter, he didn't catch the ball on the field and take 10 steps before diving into the crowd, he actually caught the ball while diving into the crowd.
-- Carlos Beltran's catch the other night at Dodger Stadium.
-- Mike Cameron's catch vs. Astros last year where he fell down, and while laying on his arse caught the ball.
-- Rey Ordonez's diving, over the shoulder catch while heading toward the outfield circa 1999.
-- Cleon Jones' catch to end the 69 World Series.
Anyway, the real problem here is over-the-top hype these Yankee-Red Sox games get. I mean they play 19 times a year. Give it a rest. As for John Sterling, great column in today's NY Daily News by Bob Raissman on Sterling.
That's all for now. Your thoughts and prayers where Mr. Pendleton are concerned a greatly appreciated.
Most of you already know, but if you don't, my dad was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer on Monday. It was quite a blow for the Pendleton family and needless to say Monday was one of the all-time shitty days.
However, on Tuesday, we got word the cancer has not spread and it is likely it can be removed by surgery, with some follow up chemo. What kills me is the dude has never smoked, is not a big drinker and takes very good care of himself. It just goes to show you never fucking know. Live it up while you can kids.
I've already learned in the last week or so not to get too high or too low and try to stay on an even keel. I'm well experienced in this emotional rollercoaster, being a long time follower of the New York Metropolitans.
Speaking of the Mets and cancer, I asked a young dude I work with the other day how the hell he could still be smoking after watching those anti-smoking ads they run on SNY. The one with the dude with the hole in his neck and cancer kazoo is the most disturbing and most powerful. I swear, if they ever started running ads on TV that beer drinking would do that to you, I would go cold turkey. I swear I would.
Anyway, some other notes:
-- I drove by a big, new Indian food market the other day and a sign out front advertised CUD at 2.99 for 11 pounds. Anything with that name and that price has to take like shit.
-- My all-time favorite movie "Rollercoaster" came on last night on something called the Retrochannel. I only watched the first hour since it was 4 a.m., but man the first 15 minutes of that movie, especially the part where an entire rollercoaster car of people land on their heads is pretty hard core.
-- Speaking of living it up, The Allen Oldies Band (see link on my link chart) will be staging its second annaul East Coast Invasion this weekend. Tonight, they are at Maxwell's in Hoboken. How hard core are these cats? They played 5.5 hours last year - without taking a break. And it's a high-octane, full energy oldies show. Their version of Snoopy vs. the Red Barron might be the greatest live performance I've ever seen.
-- For all you Springsteeners out there, a co-worker of mine told me a friend of his went to see The Boss at Conseco Fieldhut last week and only 4,000 folks showed up. That's nutty. My only indication of the Boss' popularity outside of NJ came in the early 90s, when I went to see him at the Richfield Coliseum outside of Cleveland for the Human Touch/Lucky Town tour. While the crowd was lively, there were plenty of empty seats in the hut. Of course, you can't blame anyone for not wanting to shell out $50 to see Shayne Fontaine.
-- Now to hockey. All I can say is if the Canes win that Cup, one of those dude - maybe Glen Wesley - should parade that bad boy through the streets of Hartford. And then Pete Laviolette should take it and shove it up Mike Modano's arse. Remember, Modano ripped Laviolette after the Olympics.
-- Now for my Yankee venting. I will agree that the catch by Melka Cabrerba was a great catch in a semi-big spot. Remember, it's only June 5. But for a-hole John Sterling to call it the best catch we've ever seen just shows you what a huge schill that dude it. I can name 10 Met catches off the top of my head that were better than that catch. And here they are in no particular order.
-- Tommie Agee's two amazing catches in the 69 Series.
-- Ron Swaboda's amazing catch in the 69 Series.
-- Jay Payton's running, jumping catch in San Fran a few years ago where he literallly took back a ball that was about 5 rows deep.
-- David Wright's barehanded catch.
-- Patrick Howell's (remember him) running catch into the right field wall. I'll say sometime around 1995.
-- David Wright's catch in Seattle last year where he went into the stands to catch a ball. Unlike Derek Jeter, he didn't catch the ball on the field and take 10 steps before diving into the crowd, he actually caught the ball while diving into the crowd.
-- Carlos Beltran's catch the other night at Dodger Stadium.
-- Mike Cameron's catch vs. Astros last year where he fell down, and while laying on his arse caught the ball.
-- Rey Ordonez's diving, over the shoulder catch while heading toward the outfield circa 1999.
-- Cleon Jones' catch to end the 69 World Series.
Anyway, the real problem here is over-the-top hype these Yankee-Red Sox games get. I mean they play 19 times a year. Give it a rest. As for John Sterling, great column in today's NY Daily News by Bob Raissman on Sterling.
That's all for now. Your thoughts and prayers where Mr. Pendleton are concerned a greatly appreciated.
Friday, June 02, 2006
THE OLD MAN AND THE C-WORD
Well, it's been more than a week since the much-anticipated trip to Fenway for Yanks-Sox. Here are some of the highlights.
-- Not to sound gay, but I do find taking long road trips with a couple of cats pretty fun. I mean, it's great. You get to do a lot of cursing and farting and other shit you would never get away with at home.
Speaking of cursing, halfway to Boston we got into a discussion what an underrated four-letter word the C-word is. I mean think about it, if you are having a bad day at work you - in this day & age, could get away with yelling fuck or shit and nobody would really give you a hard time. But yell something like "Cuntsucker" real loud and people will act as if you shot someone. That's what makes the C-word great, it's may be the only 4-letter word that really still offends people. I'm gonna try to work it more and more into my daily vocabulary.
Speaking of C's (see, I won't even type it in), those Red Sox fans in Boston are exactly that. Need some proof.
-- In the sixth inning of the game, I had to take a mean piss, so I headed for the men's room. Upon seeing the line into the "IN" door was quite long, I did want any self-respecting man would do, I headed right for the "OUT" door. About 10 feet from a nice-open urinal, some a-hole literally hips checks me and pins me up against a wall. So I say, "what's your problem", he says "go in the IN door like everyone else." I say "What, are you the fucking bathroom police?" and he says something like "It's not fair to everyone else." Now me, being the friendly drunk I am, so "you know what, you're right, I'll go to the IN door," and I proceed to follow this dude out of the bathroom. However, the second the dude is about 10 feet in front of me, I do a 360, go back through the OUT door, take a quick piss and head back to my seat.
Two lessons here: First of all, as much as I hate Yankee fans, they would never give me shit for going through the out door. Second of all, I used to wonder why people would ever start fights at a baseball game, but now I know. There are people out there who are just huge cunts.
As for the rest of the game, most of the people at Fenway didn't really give a shit about the game. I think the Sox title in 2004 took all the venom out of the diehards, and, at the same time, prompted all the bandwagoners to scoop up the tix. The most upset I saw the sox fans get was when one of the guys I was with, at about 10:10, annouced to the crowd that Taylor Hicks had won American Idol. You gotta figure most of the a-holes in the crowd were Tivoing the show at home. It was great to ruin their little reality show night.
And then, after the game, some dame (I don't want to overuse the C-word), was busting my balls because I was from New Jersey. She then told me she was from New Hampshire, and I nearly went ballistic, saying how could you rip NJ when you a from a state that's only famous for some bogus primary ever 4 years. What a C%%#.
Now to hockey. Let me say this, the Whale is alive and well in New England. I wore my Whale
jersey to the Sox game, and got literally dozens of comments. And then, when Manny Ramirez took Scott Proctor over the Monsta, they played Brass Bonanza at Fenway. I thought I was in heaven.
Great win for the Whale last night. I'm gonna say Whale in 6, but could be 7. This Rod Brind'amour could become the ugliest man ever to win the Stanley Cup.
As for the beer count, it skyrocketed since the start of the Fenway trip last week.My estimates are about 18 beers in Boston last Wednesday. Nothing Thursday. On Friday, I'll say about 10. About 5 on Saturday at home. About 8 on Sunday at Monmouth Park, and about 10 on Monday at my buddy's hut.
So that's 51 for the weekend. I think the count coming in was about 120, so let's call the beer count 171 right now.
-- Not to sound gay, but I do find taking long road trips with a couple of cats pretty fun. I mean, it's great. You get to do a lot of cursing and farting and other shit you would never get away with at home.
Speaking of cursing, halfway to Boston we got into a discussion what an underrated four-letter word the C-word is. I mean think about it, if you are having a bad day at work you - in this day & age, could get away with yelling fuck or shit and nobody would really give you a hard time. But yell something like "Cuntsucker" real loud and people will act as if you shot someone. That's what makes the C-word great, it's may be the only 4-letter word that really still offends people. I'm gonna try to work it more and more into my daily vocabulary.
Speaking of C's (see, I won't even type it in), those Red Sox fans in Boston are exactly that. Need some proof.
-- In the sixth inning of the game, I had to take a mean piss, so I headed for the men's room. Upon seeing the line into the "IN" door was quite long, I did want any self-respecting man would do, I headed right for the "OUT" door. About 10 feet from a nice-open urinal, some a-hole literally hips checks me and pins me up against a wall. So I say, "what's your problem", he says "go in the IN door like everyone else." I say "What, are you the fucking bathroom police?" and he says something like "It's not fair to everyone else." Now me, being the friendly drunk I am, so "you know what, you're right, I'll go to the IN door," and I proceed to follow this dude out of the bathroom. However, the second the dude is about 10 feet in front of me, I do a 360, go back through the OUT door, take a quick piss and head back to my seat.
Two lessons here: First of all, as much as I hate Yankee fans, they would never give me shit for going through the out door. Second of all, I used to wonder why people would ever start fights at a baseball game, but now I know. There are people out there who are just huge cunts.
As for the rest of the game, most of the people at Fenway didn't really give a shit about the game. I think the Sox title in 2004 took all the venom out of the diehards, and, at the same time, prompted all the bandwagoners to scoop up the tix. The most upset I saw the sox fans get was when one of the guys I was with, at about 10:10, annouced to the crowd that Taylor Hicks had won American Idol. You gotta figure most of the a-holes in the crowd were Tivoing the show at home. It was great to ruin their little reality show night.
And then, after the game, some dame (I don't want to overuse the C-word), was busting my balls because I was from New Jersey. She then told me she was from New Hampshire, and I nearly went ballistic, saying how could you rip NJ when you a from a state that's only famous for some bogus primary ever 4 years. What a C%%#.
Now to hockey. Let me say this, the Whale is alive and well in New England. I wore my Whale
jersey to the Sox game, and got literally dozens of comments. And then, when Manny Ramirez took Scott Proctor over the Monsta, they played Brass Bonanza at Fenway. I thought I was in heaven.
Great win for the Whale last night. I'm gonna say Whale in 6, but could be 7. This Rod Brind'amour could become the ugliest man ever to win the Stanley Cup.
As for the beer count, it skyrocketed since the start of the Fenway trip last week.My estimates are about 18 beers in Boston last Wednesday. Nothing Thursday. On Friday, I'll say about 10. About 5 on Saturday at home. About 8 on Sunday at Monmouth Park, and about 10 on Monday at my buddy's hut.
So that's 51 for the weekend. I think the count coming in was about 120, so let's call the beer count 171 right now.
Thursday, June 01, 2006
PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT
Dear fans of fishingnotcathcing. Thanks for your patience. I'm just recovering from last week's trip to Fenway and the ensuing Memorial Day weekend hijinks.
I have plenty to report, but right now must focus on tonight's Canes-Sabres Game 7. Once that is out of the way, expext a full Memorial Day weekend post, with topics ranging from the C-word to my new hatred for the Boston Red Sox and their fans.
Look for new info early Friday.
I have plenty to report, but right now must focus on tonight's Canes-Sabres Game 7. Once that is out of the way, expext a full Memorial Day weekend post, with topics ranging from the C-word to my new hatred for the Boston Red Sox and their fans.
Look for new info early Friday.
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