Archive for July, 2009
The White Sox, Pitching, and Me
I’m going to admit something right now that I should’ve admitted a long time ago and will make me lose whatever credibility I might have had with sports fans. Are you ready?
My Boyfriend Jon Garland
I think the reason I haven’t written about sports lately is that I haven’t been drunk or even buzzed since February. February! I’m not saying I need alcohol to write about sports, but I’m definitely more inclined to talk shit when I’m having a couple beers and for me at least, talking shit = talking sports. I haven’t been talking shit lately and, as a result, haven’t been talking about sports. Weak, I know.
However! Something v. exciting is happening in my sports world tomorrow. As you might know, I am deeply in love with MLB pitcher Jon Garland, formerly of the Chicago White Sox and Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim (Why don’t they just call them the Anaheim Angels? I mean, they’re one of those teams that isn’t my team but I still like, and even I think “Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim” makes them sound like a bunch of assholes.) currently and unfortunately of the basement-dwelling Arizona Diamondbacks. The last time the D’backs were in town, Jon Garland did not pitch. They’re in town again, and Jon Garland is pitching tomorrow. It just so happens (!) that we have tickets for tomorrow’s game. We don’t usually do day games, but obviously this time will be an exception.
For the first time in my life, I will get to see the man I refer to as “my boyfriend Jon Garland” live and in person. So exciting! I’ve loved him from afar for years and clearly, the fact that he is here and I’m going to the game means our love is meant to be. Did you know that he listens to reggae? It’s true! Does he smoke weed? I have no idea, but more than one person has found my blog by googling that very question.
Of course, I hope the Rockies win the game. I just hope they do it by taking advantage of shoddy pitching from the D’backs’ bullpen and not because of a less-than-stellar performance from the man of my dreams.
This is quite possibly the stupidest post I’ve ever written, which is really saying something. I kind of hate it when women are all gaga over athletes and shit, but I’ll write about it just this once. Jon Garland is my exception.
Stuff and Junk: Circumcision
Here’s a fascinating conversation B and I had earlier this evening:
Me: When you were a kid, did you spend a lot of time checking out your dad’s junk?
B: His what?
Me: His stuff.
B: No.
Me: In the locker room, did all the kids hang around and check out each other’s stuff?
B: No. You didn’t look at it.
Me: So nobody would notice if someone’s stuff was different?
B: Right.
Me: And if anybody did and commented on it, you could totally make fun of him for checking out your stuff.
B: Yes.
“Finding Out”
A big topic of discussion among pregnant women and their significant others is “finding out.” This refers, of course, to whether you’re going to find out the sex of the baby (for the record, I still feel uncomfortable referring to a fetus as a baby, but it seems weird and technical to call it a fetus) before he or she is born.
Why an animal abuser deserves more jail time than a guy who kills someone.
Today I had to turn off the local sports radio station because it pissed me off so much. The discussion went something like this:
Michael Vick abused some dogs and got sent to prison for two years.
JR Smith was recklessly driving and killed a guy and got sent to jail for 30 days.
Therefore, the criminal justice system says dogs > humans.
