Bin Laden may be dead, but The Mayor still roams the streets of the Western Addition freely.
Every day there is an awful song stuck in my head
Today’s awful song is “numb”, by U2.
I’m going to make alot of San Francisco enemies with this post (not like anyone reads this damn blog anyways), but hear me out first!
Jonathan Sanchez as a number 2 pitcher??????
Listen Giants, I know you don’t want to get caught up in that “world series hangover” talk that almost seems inevitable after winning the big one the year before… but what the hell???? Why did Jonathan Sanchez take Matt Cain’s spot as the number two starter in this “dominant” pitching lineup? Last time i checked (a few days before opening game) wasn’t Matt Cain in the pre-season talks of being a favorite for the Cy Young Award with many analysts (yes he was, for good reason)? And for Peters sake, didn’t Jonathan “dirty” Sanchez try to ruin the Giants post season run by his selfish antics in the playoffs series versus the Phillies (YES HE DID.)???!?!?!..?!?.. Mr Bruce Bochy… although i will always be a fan of yours (thank you for all your effort with the miserable padres), there better be a reason that you promoted Jonathan Dirty Sanchez in the lineup while demoting Mr Matthew Cain.
A questionable coaching move to start the year out with…
(I’ll be a Giants fan once the Padres fade out of contention)
So i’m sure that this has been said many times before, but the latest release from Burger King looks absolutely disgusting. The picture they use to advertise it could not be any more grotesque. It looks eerily similar to what would ensue after attending a BBQ dinner (equipped with ribs, corn, collard greens…), squashed between a bun. No thank you.
We’ve all had those days. Time doesn’t move. The day just drags on. You look at the clock and are shocked to see that it’s only 2:15. You look at it again 30 minutes later and it’s only 2:17. It’s bullshit!
I guarantee I’ve had more of these days than you have.
Maybe i should complain to the I.T. guys at work that my clock is broken.
… has a completely different meaning for any unfortunate gerbil who finds itself in Richard Gere’s house
Something strange has happened to me lately. And by lately, I mean I’ve progressively noticed this over the last few years.
My appetite has decreased dramatically.
No longer am I that kid who could easily scarf down lobster ravioli, followed by a 2.5 pound lobster, followed by a piece of rich chocolate cake for dinner. Now that I think about it, that was probably a really expensive dinner… thanks mom and dad!
Now days I feel completely stuffed after a mere double double from In n Out (a 5×5 used to be no problem!). What gives?
Well clearly the only logical answer is that someone (or something!) performed gastric bypass surgery on me while I was sleeping. I’m guessing this happened 3.5 to 4 years ago. I think I remember a period of about 2 weeks when I was consistently experiencing pretty bad stomach pains (the recovery period?). While there are no visible scars, my belly button looks to be a little deeper than it has in the past. Possible entry point? Probably.
I never believed in Alien (do they deserve a capital a?) abductions in the past, but this whole experience is making me think otherwise.