1 Happy St

I've been playing in a golf league on Tuesday nights. This is the first time I've ever taken part in a league so it's been quite a new experience. For instance, in league play, they frown upon things like (just off the top of my head) trying to run over the geese with the golf cart, making sandtrap angels or even heckling the other players in the foursome. It should probably be said that making suggestive comments about "foursomes" is also discouraged, apparently.

Anyway, we're four weeks into the season (out of 16) and now I've been assigned a "handicap". Much to my dismay, this doesn't mean that I'll be allowed to park closer to the first tee. Basically it means that I suck at golf so they've given me a NEW score so it looks like I know what the hell I'm doing out there. The lower your handicap, the better the golfer. To give you an idea of how high my handicap is, if we were talking about ACTUAL handicaps, I'd be on the course drooling on the flag on the 7th hole. I hope to improve to "hugs strangers for no reason" by the end of the season.

It got me thinking that golf has to be one of the only walks of life (hehe) where you can still use that word. That being said, if I don't get any better as this season goes on, I may have to petition the league to start calling it my "golf-challenged" score. I'm actually mostly just "putter-challenged" but that sounds too much like something else which I'm not about to admit to on this blog, but which coincidentally would also refer to a problem with my stroke. Ok I'm going to stop now.

I'll try to keep you posted on my progress.

I'm gonna try and figure out how to get myself a press pass so I can hold a mic in front of Ozzie Guillen and tell him lies.

Me: “Hey Ozzie, Kerry Wood mentioned yesterday that your kids shouldn't be allowed in the Sox dugout during games. How do you respond?”

Ozzie: “How I respond? [Bleep] him…….who is.........wait........[bleep] him. Who is that guy? Tell him I'll [bleepin] kill him. He no even peech in 3 years. [Bleep] him.”

Then I’ll mention how Magglio thinks the Tigers are the best team in the AL Central.

You know what really grinds my gears? When Major League Baseball teams feel the need to have pre-pubescent boys do public address announcing for an inning. I've heard it all around the league. It's already a fad. It will only be a matter of time before it's a craze. Then, before you know it, it will be an epidemic.

For anyone who has been lucky enough not to notice what I'm talking about yet, MLB franchises have inexplicably begun turning the PA mic over to a "lucky kid" for one inning. Sure, its a great experience for the kid but the rest of us are forced to listen to this 8 year old mispronounce the name "Aurelia" in a pitch so high that only Daryl Hannah can understand.

I can't for the life of me comprehend what the marketing directors from (seemingly) every baseball team are thinking. Is there anyone who scans their pocket schedule for "Bleed From the Ears Night"? I can't imagine that this is a part of the game that anyone looks forward to (except or course Timmy and Timmy's mom).

I've come up with a short list of other things we can do to put the kids to work besides assaulting our eardrums. Let me know what you think.

• Shag balls during batting practice
• Challenge various opposing pitchers to milk-drinking contests
• Catch squirrels
• Reload the fireworks after homeruns
• Teach Michael Barrett how to punch
  
• Three words: "Hey, beer kid!"

Has getting trapped in a coal mine replaced getting attacked by a shark as the media tragedy of the year? For the last two or three years, we would hear about a shark attack every couple months. Now, for whatever reason, people keep getting trapped in mines.

I say stay out of the oceans, and stay out of the mines. Nobody needs to hang out in either of them.

I never understood why people use the phrase “not afraid to fail” as a term of endearment. Why is being unafraid of failure a good thing? The real measure of someone’s character should be to their reaction to failure afterwards, not their indifference to it beforehand.

I bring this up because of last night's broadcast of the Yankee/Mets game. The announcers were talking about the difference between A-Rod and Derek Jeter. Derek, of course, was more valuable (at least I think that's what the argument was) because he is unafraid of failure, whereas A-Rod is the exact opposite.

I would comment on how ridiculous this is, but I don't have the strength right now.

I get paid on the 5th and 20th of every month, and it's usually for the same dollar amount. For those of you who know me, you know how insane I am about balancing my checkbook and making sure each and every deduction and deposit is marked clearly line by line. So that is why I am a little concerned about a discovery I recently made.

Today is May 19th, so I looked back to see what my checkbook balance was on April 19th, and it was $125 higher. On March 19th, it was $150 higher than in April, and on February 19th, it was $300 higher than in March. I'm not rich enough for this trend to continue any further.

I blame OPEC.

I’ve had my Dodge Magnum for 2 years now and I still love it. It’s the only car I’ve ever owned that I didn’t get tired of after a year or so. I love that it’s still kind of a novelty on the road since they haven’t become a dime a dozen yet. But the other day, I thought of a disadvantage to having a car that stands out.

It started when I was in a near-accident. You know the kind; where you don’t actually hit something, but you feel the adrenaline rush for like 10 minutes afterwards. Anyway, as I was collecting my thoughts and calming myself down, I got to thinking. If I was driving a car that looked like everyone else’s, I could have hit that guy, taken off, and still have had the possibility of getting away with it. But with my car, it would have been almost impossible.

For example, if I drove a gray Toyota Tercel, at first glance, most people wouldn’t know if it was a Nissan, Hyundai, or whatever. A witness to a hit and run involving a Tercel would probably tell the police something like “yeah, I saw it…..it was a little gray foreign thing”. But at first glance with my car, everyone immediately knows what it is. Right there, my chance of getting away with it automatically decreases.

Now I’m not saying that I endorse hit and run’s, and I’m not saying I would ever do it if given the chance. But if I ever did, it would be comforting to know that I at least had a good chance of getting away with it.

I was going to start referring to myself in the 3rd person like Karl Malone and Rickey Henderson. But I thought that seems kind of played out. So what if I started referring to myself in my alias's 3rd person? I could say something like "Duke Malloy loves chicken", but I'd be referring to myself and my fondness of chicken. Then it would be up to you as my audience to figure out that I have an alias of Duke Malloy and that I’m talking in his 3rd person.

But which person would that be? Would my alias’s 3rd person be considered the 4th person? I think it would.

So what if I started switching between the 3rd and 4th persons mid-conversation? You might hear me say "Brian loves chicken", but in the next breath, you'd hear me say "Duke Malloy could really use a Coke". Then it would be up to you to figure out that I have a fondness of chicken AND a need for a Coke.

But that would probably never happen. I mean really, who has conversations about chicken and Coke?

1. I have never seen Star Wars. And I don’t mean just the newer stuff. I haven’t seen ANY of it. And I have no plans to see it either. I find it less interesting being able to participate in Star Wars discussions than not knowing what everyone is talking about.
2. I can run really fast.
3. I’ve lived near Chicago my whole life, and I’m a huge baseball fan. Yet I didn’t go to Wrigley Field for the first time until I was 22.
4. The due date for my birth was March 17th, so my parents gave me “Patrick” for a middle name.
5. I can quote the movie “Cop and a Half”.
6. Remember, this comes from a guy who has never seen Star Wars.
7. I was born on March 28th, so my middle name has no meaning whatsoever.

I finally went and got a haircut today. For the past week or so, every time I’ve looked at myself in the mirror, I’ve noticed how sloppy I look. It usually takes about a month from my previous haircut for me to start looking like one of the Duke brothers (the blonde guy, not the brown-haired guy). But then I still usually wait another week or so before I finally go and get it cut.

Why is that?!?!

Why don’t I have “instantly look better” at the top of my daily to-do list? Looking bad doesn’t bring any advantages whatsoever, yet I still always seem to let myself go for the full week. It would be different if getting a haircut was on par with such chores as going to the dentist or having a boil lanced. Those things I could see wanting to delay as long as possible. But I find getting a haircut to be quite relaxing. Maybe I’ll place the blame on not having enough free time. Yeah, that’s it……no free time.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go. ER is about to start.

I wish I could be there while Bobby Jenks is drinking his morning coffee and reading the paper when he gets to the Ozzie Guillen quotes about him.

Ozzie – “That fat, lazy, piece of [bleep] needs to get in shape.”

Bobby – [spits coffee all over himself] “son of a………not again!”

Barry Bonds is sitting on 713 career home runs. This leaves him one dinger shy of the most famous home run hitter of all time, Babe Ruth. Ruth finished his career with 714 home runs, a record that stood for nearly 40 years until it was broken by Hank Aaron on April 8th, 1974. Aaron tacked on 41 more for good measure and ended with 755 career home runs. Bonds will likely tie and pass Ruth in the next week or so.

In case you've been in your mom's basement playing Doom for the last couple years, you probably know that Barry Bonds is a big cheater. According to the recent book, Game of Shadows: Barry Bonds, BALCO, and the Steroids Scandal that Rocked Professional Sports, Bonds injected himself with so many steroids that the 1976 East Germany women's field hockey team said, "Ja, das ist too much steroids." Then they all shaved off their beards.

Since the allegations against Barry predate the newly enacted drug rules in Major League Baseball, it appears that Bud Selig's hands are tied leaving the door wide open for Barry to cruise into the record books un-asterisked.

As a last ditch effort, Selig has asked former senator George Mitchell to independently investigate the use of steroids in the Majors before the new rules were put in place, including, one can only assume, one Barry Bonds. Whether or not this commission will have any teeth or whether the commission will reach its conclusions in time remain to be seen. Experts are skeptical.

As I see it, there is one man and one man alone who can prevent Barry Bonds from breaking Henry Aaron's record of 755 home runs. That is Henry Aaron. The time is now for the Hammer to seek a court-ordered injunction to prevent Bonds from breaking his record before the commission can complete its investigation. Aaron may be hesitant to do so for fear that some will think him a sore-loser but if the investigation does, indeed, find that Bonds was chemically enhanced during the last few years, Aaron will be quickly forgiven by everyone. If Bonds is cleared by the commission, he'll then be allowed to continue chasing the record. Will any court be brave enough to unilaterally "suspend" Bonds until Mitchell's investigation is complete? What could it hurt to find out?

There are many reasons for Aaron to do this, not the least of which being that Major League Baseball will suffer irreparable harm if Bonds is allowed to break the record and subsequently found to be a big fat cheater. But Aaron must also think a little more selfishly. No single person will lose out more by allowing Bonds to break the record than Aaron himself. As the all-time home run king, Aaron and his name are a marketable commodities. Without the record, Aaron is merely another retired ball player (okay, so he's a Hall of Famer. So is Ryne Sandberg. I rest my case.) It can be argued that without the record, Hank Aaron will suffer irrepairable financial harm whether or not Bonds breaks it fairly. Aaron must act now to save baseball, and to save himself.

So I am ashamed to admit it but even with all the nice weather we've had of late, I still hadn't opened my grill yet. That is, until today. I looked out the window and I noticed that a bird landed on the side and then crawled inside my grill.

Yes, my first instinct was to turn on the grill at that point, but I resisted. He flew out a couple seconds later. So I went out and rapped on the outside of the grill to make sure he didn't have friends in there ready to attack me. Nothing. It was safe.

So I opened the lid and sure enough... there was an entire nest in there. It was very gross. After several minutes of debate... I decided to evict them. These germ riddled squatters were going to have to a new place to live. I moved all their twig-like belongings out to the curb. Ok, actually I just moved the nest onto the floor of the deck and went inside.

A few minutes later the bird came back. This time he had his companion. They weren't happy. I listened closely and I'm positive this is what I heard...

"Oh great, what are we supposed to do now, Larry?"
"How should I know, Robin?"
"Well this was all your idea..."
"MY idea?! You said you wanted to be closer to your sister!!"
"Yeah, I put a gun to your head and said, 'let's live in an oven!'"
"Well I didn't hear you offer up any ideas at the time."
"Maybe if you paid attention to me, you would have known what I was thinking!"
"Known what you were thinking? Who am I, Miss Cleo?"

I think they may have changed the name of the fortune cookie to the “arbitrary comment” cookie. Has anyone else noticed this? “People consider you a friend” is not a fortune. If the new goal of the fortune cookie is to be a little more personal, maybe it should say something like “your close friends think you’re a decent enough guy, but people that are meeting you for the first time are kind of turned off by you”. At least that would be saying something.

Regardless, that's still not a fortune.

“It’s going to be a catfight to the end.” – White Sox manager Ozzie Guillen on this year’s AL Central race.

Can we assume he meant “dogfight”?

See, the great thing about rooting for a team with Ozzie Guillen as manager are the “Lost in Translation” comments that come afterwards. We get to hear such classics as “[bleep] [bleep] son of a [bleep]” and “I don’t give a [bleep], he can go [bleep]”, or even “I will eat his children”. Or was that Mike Tyson? I can’t remember.

Regardless, after every White Sox game, we are treated to the luxury of listening to Ozzie spew his “truths”, and for that I am truly thankful. Now go [bleep] yourself.

(posted by Brian, but courtesy of Donald)

Yesterday, my DirecTV DVR broke. Now if you’re at all like me, you’ll agree that a DVR is kinda like a cell phone; You don’t care that you don’t have one until after you get it and then it gets taken away. I can’t go without my DVR, especially on a night when I had a bunch of things to do and 24 was on (not to mention further David Blaine nonsense).

So I called up DirecTV and I was ready to let them have it. I was going to abuse the poor guy or girl who was unfortunate enough to answer my call. I even prepared ahead of time by writing down insults on a notepad (things like “you suck”, or “I can’t believe how badly you suck”, or even Homer’s classic “you’re the suckiest bunch of sucks who ever sucked”).

But then something happened................

They helped me. I got an apology for my inconvenience and a promise that a new DVR would be on its way. They even put a rush on it so it wouldn’t take too long. All I could do was respond with a quiet “thank you”.

Don’t you hate it when good service gets in the way of your prepared notepad of insults?

This movie looks pretty good. Casting looks to be pretty good. Kate Bosworth (as Lois) looks like Jean Tripplehorn only younger and better-looking.

Yesterday, I accepted an "everyone-wins" opportunity from my next door neighbor. He couldn't get his lawn mower started, so he asked if he could borrow mine. In return, he would mow my lawn for me after he was finished mowing his. A can't miss scenario, right? Of course it is, so I agreed.

"I have a few things I have to take care of first," said my neighbor. "But I'll be over in a few minutes [to get the mower from you]."

"Okay," I said. "Take your time."

Ten minutes later, my neighbor's 10 year old son showed up. Now he's a good kid, but not the first person I'd trust with my 20 HP Craftsman rider.

"Hi Brian, my Dad said to come over to get your mower."

"Uh, okay," I said reluctantly.

Now I'm in a difficult position. I agreed to lend out my mower, but had I known he was sending his kid over, I definitely wouldn't have. How could I change my mind now though? So instead, I put the kid through like 20 minutes of training on how to use the thing, which included at least 5 minutes of things NOT to do (don't run over anything that isn't green, stay at least 5 feet away from all cars at all times, and never ever EVER put it into 6th gear).

So off he went. I thought to myself that at least he was practicing on his own yard first. I, of course, was planted in front of my living room window, watching every move. He had a little bit of difficulty around a couple turns, and at one point, I actually saw the whole mower leap off the ground (even now, I'm not sure what he hit to make it do that). But about 45 minutes later, he finished up and it was time for my yard. Surprisingly, I only noticed about 2 or 3 clutch-rides and 4 or 5 grinds of my gears. Not bad for a first timer.

Unfortunately, he didn't have as much luck in Round 2. Perhaps he got a little cocky from his near-flawless maiden run on his own yard, or perhaps he simply forgot Rule #1 of things not to do.

POP... POP... POP... POP... POP... POP... POP... POP... POP

"Oh no," I thought to myself. "I think he got my lights."

After further inspection.......Yup, he did.

The very first pass-through, he managed to take out all 9 solar-powered lights that I have lining the front of my house. I heard the mower turn off, and moments later, a knock at the door.

"Uh, Brian," he said sheepishly.

"Yeah, I heard," I replied, cutting him off before he could continue. "I'll take it from here."

I hate my life.

We've all been there. We're enjoying our time at a nice bar. There's good tunes, good folks; Everyone is drinking and laughing and carrying on. But then it's time to use the bathroom, and surprise surprise, there's a dude in there handing out paper towels and mints. Who is this dude, and why is he in there? And how did he get the gig? Is he an independent? Does the bar hire him? And how does that interview process go?

"So, do you have any experience handing out paper towels or mints?"
"No, but my father works for Altoids, so........"
"Really, Altoids? Interesting..........you're hired."

C'Mon bar managers, we don't need dudes handing us paper towels and mints. There's nothing in the bathroom that I haven't done by myself countless times before; I don't need help with any of it. Er, you know what I mean.

I've tried a couple times to get interested in the new show on HBO Big Love, but I find myself tuning out....and I think I know why: Too much man-butt. Why does Bill Paxton keep doing that to us? Is it in his contract?

Item 1 - must be paid $100,000 per episode.
Item 2 - must be able to show off man-butt.

Well I object. At the very least, there should be a warning at the beginning of the show that lets us know to expect it. They can put it right after the rating, like "the following program is Rated R. It contains violence, strong language, and Bill Paxton's man-butt." Think of how useful that would be to the common viewer like myself that doesn't care to see it.

I mentioned in a previous blog entry that I'd been having some tummy problems.

Just to update you on the situation, this Tuesday I will be undergoing what's called a lithrotripsy procedure to break up a kidney stone. Kidney stones are caused by a buildup of mineral deposits in the kidney. Most people get them at sometime in their life but they're usually small enough to pass without even needing medical attention.

My stone has built up to about the size of a pencil eraser and it's lodged somewhere in the tube between my kidney and my bladder. Basically that means that my right kidney doesn't really work right now.

The way this procedure was described to me was that they will be shooting soundwaves at the stone for about 45 minutes in the hopes that it will eventually break down. (It strikes me as odd that they are using the same procedure to cure my abdominal pain as was used to capture former Panamanian military General, Manuel Noriega.)

They hope to break the stone into several hundred tiny pieces of sand that will pass easilly through my urinary tract. The operative word there being "easilly".

William Shattner recently sold his kidney stone to GoldenPalace.com to rase $25,000 for charity. You may know that GoldenPalace.com is famous for it's collection of odd items as free publicity for the gambling website, including a grilled cheese sandwich with the likeness of the Virgin Mary, which they purchased on an online auction for $28,000.

I can't help but think that maybe I should just forego the procedure and try to pass the kidney stone whole, on the off chance that my kidney stone looks like the Virgin Mary.

• Update: Some of you have asked about the Manuel Noriega reference. You can click the link above for more info, but basically, back in the 80's, the former President of Panama was being persued by the U.S. on drug trafficking charges. We surrounded him in the Vatican embassy in Panama and one of the techniques to get him to surrender was blasting loud rock music. He eventually did surrender and is currently serving time in a federal prison in Florida. Sorry if that was too obscure.

Where did waiters and waitresses get the idea that we're impressed when they try to memorize our orders? I'm not impressed. Are you? In fact, I'd much rather they didn't even try. Just write it down!!! That way I don't have to spend the next 20 minutes worrying if the doofus got it right. The stress he's causing me by just trying to remember instead of jotting my order down far outweighs how impressed I'd be if he actually manages to bring me exactly what I ordered.

Let's face it... chances are pretty good that he's going to screw it up either way, but at least if he writes it down, it gives me the idea that he's trying to get it right. Really I don't even care if he's standing there writing, "This guy is a dick! Who orders a BLT with out tomatoes?" I just want the security of thinking that he's writing down "BLT minus T". Then I can enjoy my complimentary breadsticks in peace.

1. I'm named after my dad who was named after Gregory Peck who's real name was actually Eldred.
2. I'm afraid of squirrels. They have rabies.
3. When I was a kid, I took swimming lessons three summers in a row. I still can't swim.
4. I like to eat potatoes raw.
5. I've never eaten a Big Mac.
6. I have memorized the movie, Steel Magnolias.

Thanks,
Eldred

• Even if I was gay, I'd still think Jeff Goldblum was creepy.

• What happened to all the other Hitlers? He couldn't have been the only one.

• Everybody Loves Raymond had nothing on The Honeymooners. Ray never once threatened to beat the crap out of Deborah.

• I bet nobody collects snow globes in Alaska.

• Maybe Freud's mom was just extraordinarilly hot.

• I dream in Times New Roman.

• Did the Harlem Globetrotters steal the "bucket of confetti" bit from Rip Taylor or vice versa?

• When are they going to make Weekend at Bernie's III?

• I can't decide if William Daniels was better as Mr. Feeney in Boy Meets World or as the voice of KITT in Knight Rider.
  

• I'd give my left arm to be ambidextrous.

Recently I turned 29. I didn't really expect 29 to be a major milestone. I mean, 30 is right around the corner so 29 was sort of a non-event for me. In fact, several times since my 29th birthday, I've actually had to remind myself that I was 29.

And since I've needed to be reminded how old I am, my body has taken up the cause. It seems as though several of my organs have thrown in the towel all together. I haven't seen this kind of retreat since the French were invaded by the Girl Scouts.

About 6 weeks ago, I began to have some pain in my tummy (yes, I said tummy but I have two small children so it's allowed). I hadn't eaten anything weird and I wasn't really sick. It was more like a cramp in my side. It wasn't a horrible pain but it was constant. Being a member of the male sub-species, I of course came to the conclusion that the prudent thing to do would be ignore it and hope it goes away. Sort of like the French did with the Nazi's.

I'm going to take this time to expand a little on why I don't like going to the doctor. You see, I've never actually had a doctor fix something. I will go into the doctor with some ailment... and it doesn't matter what it is... headaches, nagging cough, severe chest pains... and the doctor will never... I mean NEVER.... be able to figure out what is wrong with me. And it's not just that one doctor is a moron. Every doctor I go to is unable to diagnose what is causing whatever it is I'm there for. Apparently, my body is a medical mystery. Case in point... I had a cough over the winter. "Oh like 4-5 days of coughing?" you ask? No. I mean the entire winter. I literally coughed from October until February. (Now might be a good time to tell you what wonderful people I work with, since they didn't kill me after listening to me hacking up a lung all winter. Although I did notice that Angie and Molly have been wearing their headphones a lot more frequently.) So anyway, the doctor never did figure out why I was coughing. I was treated for asthma, bronchitis, kennel cough, you name it... until it eventually just went away on its own. So the point is, I have not had great experiences with doctors. Doctors are like the French. They talk fancy and condescending, and they always leave me wondering where my day went.

So here we are... 3 doctors visits, one blood test, one urinalysis, one ultrasound, and 6 weeks later... and the pain is worse and they still don't know what is wrong with me. They thought it was gallstones. It wasn't. It acts like an appendacitis but usually that doesn't linger around for 6 weeks. The medical commmunity is as perplexed as a guy named Pierre in a self-defense class.

This has left me with a lot of time to poke around the internet looking for answers. WebMD is my favorite. Even if you don't think you're sick, just go to WebMD.com. Not only are you are sick, but you're also dying. And there's nothing that can be done to save you. (To donate your organs, click here.) Just wave the white flag... just like the French do (which makes me wonder... On the French flag, why did they bother adding the red and blue parts?).

I go in tomorrow for a CT scan. I didn't even know I had a CT but apparently I do, and it needs to be scanned. It's all a waste of time though, since I already know that they won't find anything. I'll just have to ignore it and hope it goes away.... like I do with the French.

"Alright guys, let's do some blues riff in b, watch me for the changes, and uh, try and keep up, okay."

Sharks
Hurricanes
SARS
Teenagers
Fireworks
Rock 'n roll
The south
Alligators
Milk
Avian Bird Flu
Flying
Men
Homeschoolers
Driving
Israelis
My computer
The government
Walmart
Flu shots
Pollution
Lightning
Guns
Contact sports
Eggs
Hurt feelings
Rich people
French fries
Second hand smoke
Anthrax
Plastic
Sunlight
Fur
Old people
Cell phones
Astroids
Typing
Dogs
Snow
The internet
TV
White people
Stay-at-home moms
SUV's
Compact cars
School buses
Video games
PDAs
Death
Water
...shall I go on?

Johann Pachelbel is the Wreckx-N-Effect of Classical music. He was the original one-hit-wonder. Can you think of one other song that guy did other than Canon in D? Even Ace of Base had two big hits. Pachelbel writes one song and now we're stuck with it for every wedding from now until the end of time. And it's not even a good song. It sounds like he wrote it in Mrs. Carson's 5th grade recorder class. Did he write Hot Cross Buns too?

The second round of the inaugural World Baseball Classic wraps up tonight, with a game between the United States (1-1) and Mexico (0-2). A win puts the US in the semi-final round against unbeaten South Korea.

Opinions of the WBC were mixed going into it. Many people thought it was unneeded and potentially dangerous to put Major Leaguers in an exhibition tournament. But so far, those skeptics have been silenced by decent attendance and virtually injury free games. Plus, the chance for injury is no greater than the regualarly scheduled spring training games that most of these guys would be playing in now anyway. Others just thought that the name "World Baseball Classic" was bad. They're probably right about that.

Really, I think most of the criticism came from people who thought that an international event wouldn't play to the casual baseball fan in the United States. But we're probably talking about the same people who think national pride is a dirty thing. "How can we unite behind this baseball team of spoiled millionairs when our evil industrial military complex is busy imposing our capitalistic beliefs on harmless dictatorships? Ok, I'll watch... but can I root for Hugo Chavez' Venezuela? I hear he's good friends with Cindy Shehan." But I digress...

If the US wins tonight, that sets up a final four of Cuba, Korea and the Domincan Republic. Japan (1-2) would advance with an American loss tonight because of a better run differential. Of those, only Korea would have been a surprise, but the way they've rolled over the competition so far, they're now the odd-on favorites.

As much as it pains me to say this, the WBC has been a success for baseball commissioner, Bud Selig. But what's good for Bud is good for baseball and that's good. For his sake, let's hope that the final game doesn't go into extra innings.

• I've had an unpeeled banana on my desk all day. It was perfectly yellow 6 hours ago. Now it's brown and gross. How did this stupid fruit catch on? It's got a window of freshness of maybe a day and even if you manage to have a hankering for a banana while it's still yellow on the outside, chances are about 2 to 1 that you're going to get one thats gross on the inside anyway. That's why they come in a bunch. Maybe you'll get one good one in there. Banana's suck.
  

• It's 10 minutes to 4 right now. It looks like Mickey Mouse is disco dancing on my watch.

• NASA announced yesterday that they've found water on a moon of Saturn. How long before someone finds a way to bottle it and sell it for $4.00 a bottle? I should go register SaturnSprings.com.

• My cell phone ringtone is Thunderstruck by AC/DC. My ringtone can kick your ringtone's ass!

• I need a haircut.

• Dressing for casual friday is more stressful than any other day. This is my only day to wear something casual and I don't want to waste it.

• 22 Days until opening day.