Tuesday, May 22, 2007

Would that it were

Dorf said...
Heh. Fletcher finishes his exams, goes boozing, then is MIA for a week. Suspicious.

Yes, but not quite. Unfortunately, the weeks with my head down and doing nothing but schoolwork unfortunately created one hell of a to-do list. So, I've been:

Moving (still in process)
Buying Furniture
Buying a bed
Buying sheets (unbelievably expensive, by the way)
Getting a badge for my summer job
Prepping a speech for a potential thesis topic
Masturbating

As you can see, this is making a good bit of time off my hands.

Also of note, I'm glad to see the government is still being judicious. I had my badge request denied because:
1) In my 5 year history of housing, I only put down places to June 2002 (which is 5 years from when I start)
2) I didn't list my employment status before May 2003, even though the section came right after education
Sigh...

Wednesday, May 16, 2007

Done!

Now, where's the closest bar?

Tuesday, May 15, 2007

26:04

Test time is coming. My last full day of cramming has arrived, and boy howdy, I am ready for this crap to be over.

And 2 great Sox games the past 2 days. One surprise win and one dominant win. What more do you need?

Thursday, May 10, 2007

File this one under "stranger than fiction"

Wow

Tuesday, May 08, 2007

This really helped with my studying

Jose does it again.

Monday, May 07, 2007

Oddly, this was already in my auto-text...

Just thought, in honor of the day, I would bust out a quotation from 2003:

"At least he is where he always belonged. Clemens is arrogant, talented, rich, less than honest, self-absorbed and for the most part, overwhelmingly successful. A born Yankee, really."
-Chad Finn

Honestly, I can see an upside to this. I mean, sure, I will miss the opportunity for seeing the Yankees trot out a seemingly endless string of minor-league never-will-bes, and Roger will be much better for their bullpen pretty much by default, but there are some pluses:

1. The douche is in his mid-forties, so hopefully that means a part of his fat-ass body will detach mid-pitch and go spiralling into the air like a fucking skill saw. I'd would bookmark that page on youtube.

2. For all this, "it's amazing he is still doing it" crap, we'll see if he actually was that good in Houston, or if the National League Paper Tiger ERAs can really stand up in the AL East. Maybe he'll just be like Randy Johnson was as a Yankee: just a really ugly millionaire who puts up 4th starter numbers.

3. I don't need to suffer the cognitive dissonance of trying to like the used ball-bag of a human being that he is. I was always a little afraid he would come to the Sox and I'd have to pretend like I liked him.

4. While it is always scary facing one of the best right-handers alive in a big game 7, going by historical precident the Sox should be okay if we can match him up with a quality pitcher like Schilling, Beckett, or Jeff Fucking Suppan.

5. I can't wait until he throws a crappy outing and blames it on his hamstring, his wife liking the shopping in New York, his retirement, his anger that Coco Crisp isn't spelled Koko Krisp, or the fact that he hates Jon Lester because his ready-made excuse for his next post-season failure was going to be that he had anaplastic large cell lymphoma.

Fuck Clemens. Fuck him right in the ear.

Sunday, May 06, 2007

I love this quote...

Speculation? (Quote from the bottom of the page)

"There's a fair chance Boston's Manny Ramirez will find himself on the wrong end of an inside fastball next time the teams meet. The Mariners didn't appreciate his over-the-top celebration, throwing his helmet into the air and raising his arm while rounding the bases, after hitting the go-ahead homer in the eighth inning Thursday night. There was speculation, however, that Ramirez was confused about what inning it was and thought he'd hit a walk-off game winner."

Just the fact that this possibility is on the table makes me strangely happy...

Edit:

By possibility, I of course mean that Manny wasn't sure of the inning, not that he might get brushed back.