Work,
drink, write. Work, drink. Work, drink. Work, drink. Work, drink. Work, drink,
write. Hmm. My work, drink, write balance is seemingly out of balance. I know
why I work (money) but I don’t know if I know why I drink (thirsty?) or write
(yeah, I got nothing). Perhaps I drink and I write for the same deep dark secret
reason. Something that happened in my childhood, something repressed for good
reason. Okay, I may be overdramatizing. After all, my idea of adversity is
running out of space on my DVR.
Thanks for reading and please drop a comment. If you like what you read, share with a friend. If you hate what you read, share with an enemy.
Saturday, September 22, 2012
Sunday, September 16, 2012
It Can Go Either Way But Probably Not
Maybe this is the game the Patriots point back to and say, that was the game that changed everything for us; that was the game that made us look in the mirror, dig even deeper, drove us to become champions. Maybe not. For now, I'd rather we simply agree not to talk of it. Ever. I might have to go into media blackout on Monday.
One other thought...
I don't know what really went down with Bountygate, but it seems clear the Pigskin Gods are not happy with the New Orleans Saints.
One other thought...
I don't know what really went down with Bountygate, but it seems clear the Pigskin Gods are not happy with the New Orleans Saints.
Saturday, September 15, 2012
Back on Planet Earth
Jay Cutler soils himself on national television. Surprised? Bemused? Disappointed? Whatever. All wins count the same. All losses, too. 1-1-0. Same record as the Packers. So shake it off, Jay Cutler. Rub some dirt on it. Kill a hobo. Whatever you gotta do. Time to move on.
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
Sunday, September 9, 2012
The First Course
The Dallas v. New York game was an amuse-bouche of pigskin. It’s always uncomfortable rooting for America’s Crazy Ex-Girlfriend and honestly I was shocked to see that clutch first down to seal the game let alone Romo pitching for +300 and 3 scores. In short, I am not a Cowboys’ fan. I have routinely predicted a Patriots victory over the Cowboys in the Super Bowl because such an outcome would stimulate my frontal cortex in a highly pleasing way. But there’s something about the Giants that bugs me. I can’t quite put my finger on it.
Monday, September 3, 2012
Waiting for Sunday
Waiting and hoping. Zero sacks for Tom Brady. Four touchdown passes to four different receivers. A hundred yard rushing day for Stevan Ridley. A sack for Chandler Jones and another for Dont’a Hightower. An interception for Devin McCourty. Patriots 41, Titans 3. Is that too much to ask? All right. 41-10?
Breakfast with Glenn and Steve - Once More with Feeling
The booths in The Good Egg are lacquered hard wood without cushions or covers. The tabletops are Formica edged with brushed metal. Plastic salt and pepper shakers flank a bowl of creamers and a small, rectangular plastic container with disheveled white, yellow, pink and blue packets of sweeteners sits on every table. The walls are dotted with watercolor seascapes featuring lighthouses or ships under sail. Three friends occupy a booth near the back. They consider their menus as their fresh coffee cools in large ceramic mugs.
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