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The ol' "walk off errah," eh?


My gut says the Red Sox would be in last place regardless of the weathah, but it's too friggin cold for baseball.


It begins again in Spring... except when Spring doesn't begin in Spring but Wintah.


And it's always coldah in the cellah.



Spring is over. It was Monday.

The "walk off error." WOE. Perfect.

Great philosophy and perspective.

Don't worry. In July, we'll brawl with the Yankees, make a big unexpected trade, and sail off into the rented sunset.

The butler is muttering again, something like "This is what I thought was going to happen last year.."

Off to the Cell tonight. Four tickets, row 21, between home plate and visitor's dugout. From Stubhub. With a parking pass. $185 total. April baseball does have its upside. Pictures at 11.

I'd break out the violin for last night, but one of the strings is broken. Anyone know where I can get some CATGUT? (fucking annoying feline...)

Oh, and I second the "walk off error" = WOE. Brilliant!

Rob just figured out that my cat is an annoying, arrogant, egotistical dictator. Knew that. His daughter is a lot nicer. He is riled up because she found his cold day spot, and is bigger than he is. Like JBJ, she isn't taking full advantage of her size and speed. Experience matters, but if JBJ catches on like Emi, we have badly needed insurance behind Papi!

My butler knows full well Jackie Bradley, Jr. is the guy you want on base ahead of David Ortiz. However, his memory is damaged by having to purge out his head periodically. That's fine with me, so long as he gets me REAL Meow Mix, not the house brand from wherever he gets it. I gotta scratch him somewhere.

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