Before I say another word, I seriously just watched John Cena beat Brock Lesnar at Extreme Rules. No really, that happened. Don’t ask me *why* it happened, but it happened. I guess I have to allow for the idea that this might be going somewhere and is part of a larger story, but this is 2012 WWE, so I might as well get my Jesus motherfuck on a slice of toast that was dumb out of the way now so there’s no need for it later when they screw this up even more and I’m really pissed off.
So…how’s everybody doin’? Other than that, I’m pretty ok.
The new site is coming along nicely. All the posts are now written by the right person, which is one huge job out of the way. the next part of Operation New Comet is to upload all the audio and video downloads to the new server so you can actually download them. Yes, that means all the VC Casts, the singing screenreaders and everything else will work again, and probably a lot faster than before.
I took a break from all the site business and had myself a fun weekend. I spent a good bit of it with our old friend Greg, who some of you would remember a lot better had Echo not hosed us so bad on that comment deal. Side note: Check out where that link goes. Remember, we’re not finished yet. If it looks a bit like crap, cut us some slack. I’m just getting myself used to linking to the right site.
Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, weekend with Greg.
We spent Saturday afternoon down at the Dome (it’ll never be the friggin Rogers Centre to me) watching the Jays take on the Mariners. These are always fun, especially because Greg is as much a Mariners fan as I am a Jays fan. Old brain injury, I think.
I was a bit worried about the trip because of Friday’s debacle, but the Jays came through big time, sparing me an evening of listening to more laughter from a fan of a team much more terrible than my own.
It was a memorable game for a couple of reasons. It was my first ever live shutout (Jays 7, Mariners 0), plus I got to see my first ever major league grand slam!
Thanks, Edwin! I know you and I haven’t always been on the best of terms, but that’s all because your managers have had this weird thing about making you field. Your hitting I’ve never doubted. In fact I’m one of those people who wanted you to be a DH forever ago. It’s that sketchy aiming and throwing stuff that gets me all riled up and angry about you. Now that you’re where you belong and can focus on what you’re really good at, you and I are just fine. I’ll go so far as to say that this year, I look forward to your at bats even more than Lawrie’s and Bautista’s. You’re the man, artist formerly known as E5!
There was also, like there is at most games, that guy from the visiting team who gets mercilessly heckled. In my section, it was Chone Figgins. It was pretty standard stuff for the most part, just people slowly yelling his name at him. Expecting much more from the people in our area would have been asking too much. I’m not sure how a few of them walked and breathed at the same time long enough to find seats, to be honest. But the best was when a little girl (at least we think it was a girl) who couldn’t have been any more than about 4 looked over at the person next to her and asked “what’s that guy’s name?” She got her answer and the next thing you know, that cute little voice takes a deep breath and let’s out the loudest “FIIIIIIIIIIIIGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNSSSSSSSS!!!!!!” YOU’VE EVER HEARD, OVER AND OVER AGAIN. She was much more amusing than that stupid woman behind and to one side of me who kept calling him Shawn Desman, chanting “we love BJs” and laughing at herself all afternoon. I hope something mildly unpleasant happened to her later, something like being forced to struggle with the plot of a Dick and Jane book.
and because I usually can’t let an outing like this go bye without commenting, wholly crapshite the price of beer at these places! I go in knowing it’s not going to be pretty, but $9.75 for a woman to reach into a cooler, pull out a tall boy, open it and hand it to me? Yes, I said one tall boy! Not two! One! They were $9.75…each! Legalized robbery is what that is. It was extra off pissing because we’d both just finished buying 12 of the fucking things at the LCBO for $30 before we left for the game. If the aim is to get people not to drink so much, forget it. the problem ones usually have more money than they know what to do with or are smart enough to drink beforehand, smuggle the shit in or both. You’re just screwing guys like me who want to have one or two while we enjoy the afternoon.
Speaking of drinks, I finally tried one of those Tim Hortons smoothies. They’re ok. I’d probably get one again. but I have to ask. Why is adding yogurt extra? Yogurt, at least on planet earth where I come from, is kind of what smoothies are made of. Yogurt, fruit and juice. You cant’ have a smoothie without yogurt, it’s just not possible. At all. Ever. Cannot be done. What is Tim Hortons putting in these things to make people think that going yogurtless is an option, and how can they still call whatever it is a smoothie without running afoul of some sort of regulation?
Oh, and speaking of running afoul of regulations, I learned something useless yet amazing from Greg when we were back home enjoying our reasonably priced beer.
Poker Face, the song that everybody but Lady Gaga can make sound good, is not as it seems.
Pick a chorus and listen to it. When she’s doing the thing about pa pa pa poker faces, tell me you don’t hear “fuh fuh fuh fuck her face” at least once. I never noticed this before due to my tendency not to pay attention to crap, but poor Greg spends a lot of time with a Gaga loving child so isn’t so fortunate. I went in with an open mind just like I do when one of those Islam is the light type things comes along, but unlike most of those I heard “fuck her face” without a doubt. It’s not just our imagination either. Carin heard it, and a little Googling turned up this guy. How is everybody so clueless to this, or are they just choosing to ignore it and see what they can get away with?
That’s about all for now. I’m hungry and it’s supper time. I may even have a beer afterwards. And no Rogers, I won’t be paying $9.75 for it, you arsecaps!