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Oh yes I did.
Mac amor
In the fairy-tale version of this story, I would have hit an epic home run
That previous post really set the stage for an exciting, emotional, underdog-makes-good kind of ending, didn’t it? (If you didn’t read it yet, you should.) Imagine it: the shrimpy, non-baseball-playing kid scarred from his less-than-enjoyable Little League experience steps to the plate more than three decades later and belts one over the fence.
Oh, if only. sigh
Take Me Out to the Therapist… Take Me Out to the Shrink…
The game of baseball has become a major part of my family’s life … which, based on the following photo, should come as a surprise to no one. I mean, let’s face it: when your background includes playing on a team of this caliber, your family is pretty much guaranteed a baseball-rich life:
I’ll point myself out in a moment, but first: How ’bout that coach, huh? He makes Morris Buttermaker look like Anthony Robbins. Of course, in his defense: Look at the collection of misfits he had to work with. I would suggest that his lack of enthusiasm was well justified.
No, I don’t miss this view at all. Why do you ask? *weep*
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And as I stood there barefoot with a Corona in one hand and my iPhone in the other (because you can take pictures like this with a phone now; welcome to The Future), I thought to myself, “This is nice, but I can’t wait to return to the joys of winter in Pennsylvania.”
This entire thing is in my stomach right now
File under “Irony” …
Right after lunch, I got this email from my doc:
Your labs from yesterday are excellent. As expected, your HDL (good) cholesterol is even higher [than last year], and the remainder of your numbers are healthy.
Please have someone carve that on my tombstone this weekend. Thanks.
I’m gonna miss you guys.
I appreciate this company-sanctioned act of rebellion
🎵 It’s the least … wonderful tiiime … of the yeeearrr 🎵
Well, the holidays are over, boys and girls, and you know what that means: Time for me to slide into my cryogenic sleep chamber and get all kinds of unconscious for the next few months!
Angry, post-Newtown rant (or: No, asshole face, the Second Amendment doesn’t give you the right to endanger all of us)
We took the kids to the mall this past weekend for our annual family photo with Santa and, while standing in line, I saw hanging on an adjacent ornament vendor’s rack the patently offensive item shown above. (And I’m more than just a little ashamed to say that I didn’t, in that moment, have the presence of mind to gather them all up and hand them to the vendor while suggesting that he maybe throw them away.)
“But Jon, that’s obviously for hunting enthusiasts. Lighten up.”
Lighten up? Really? You want me to lighten up? Because here’s the thing: Fuck you; I’m all out of “Lighten up.”