a history of me

There's a big "shodown" this weekend between the Yankees and the Red Sox, and the "slovenly" Sox (thanks Michael Kay) took the first game tonight. I say "bad loss" because the Yanks had the game wrapped up: a 2-1 lead in the ninth should be no problem for Mariano Rivera. Yet a series of miscues (not "errors" per se) and some clutch hitting by Jesus Christ allowed the Sox to score two in ninth. The Yanks, of course, got nothing going in the bottom of the ninth and lost the game. A crucial part of their non-rally was Jason Giambi striking out. Jason is a great baseball player but this season is a total wash-out given his serious injuries and months of absenteeism. There's no fucking reason Giambi should have been at the plate in the bottom of the ninth when he hasn't had a base hit since July 11th. There's a bench full of clutch guys who should have been in there; Bernie Williams, Tony Clark and Ruben Sierra were all available. In fact, Ruben was left holding his dick in the on-deck circle when John Olerud struck out to end the game. Can you sense how frustrated I am right now? I hope so.

I'm also fucking starving right now. I ate a very light dinner tonight: a salad, some nachos (without meat or beans) and a bowl of vanilla pudding. They were serving Buffalo Wings, which I love, but I made a conscious effort to pass on them. So now I'm really goddamn hungry and the Yankees lost so throw me a fucking bone here.

ARRRR! Maybe some shuteye will help. That, and a cookie.