Man, this was supposed to be my Sunday...sorta. No baseball equals sleep, unless I start thinking of how much I loathe genuine gambling (where the house wins a LOT) as opposed to poker (California says so, goddamnit), and the fact that, well, in game 2, we are rolling the dice.
(Far as the picture above and what's going on with MTV there...your guess is better than mine, 'cause I ain't making one.)
Um...I'm rambling. And I'm addicted to this labor of love...for better or worse, fall hasn't been this good since '04, and in '04, the Red Sox were everything to me. All I wanted to do was give you a gift. The gift of savage wit.
I said it before, I'll say it again, because I am sacrilucious. Patton Oswalt is god.
Good night, you princes of New England.
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