Ausseo is running track, Loni is playing volleyball again, Rebe resumes her basketball career and Kitty is in a new school and goes back to her lessons tickling the ivories.
I gave them the standard advice to stay away from the boys or I'll start digging more holes.
Bluey, never known for his footspeed, managed to double his lifetime triples total by going 6 for 6 with a trio of three baggers.
Now you can make the argument that his fat ass should have had three homeruns instead of triples, but nonetheless, quite the feat.
GM: Special Ed
Coach: Don Shula
The 2007 WashPa FFL had its' draft on Saturday, Aug 11. The inaugural Hail Mary squad was selected by former Crank Yanker, Special Ed, who secured the services of former Miami Dolphins coach, Don Shula only minutes after the draft ended. Las Vegas handicappers initiate the Hail Mary odds of a championship at 100-1.
The 2007 Hail Mary squad:
QBs: Phillip Rivers (SD), Jay Cutler (DEN)
RBs: Larry Johnson (KC), Brandon Jacobs (NYG), Adrian Peterson (MIN), Ladell Betts (WAS), Reuben Droughns (NYG)
WRs: Marvin Harrison (IND), Chad Johnson (CIN), TJ Houshmandzadeh (CIN), Jerricho Cotchery (NYJ), Wes Welker (NE), Anthony Gonzales (IND)
TE: Randy McMichael (STL)
DEF: New England Patriots
K: Olindo Mare (NE)
The cross I have to bear is Tay's insane need to reduce clutter on a never ending basis. Her house is very organized and ordered and you won't find too many nick-nacks (if any) collecting dust at her place. If you want to throw 2 slices of bread into the toaster or need a paper towel, you won't find them on the counter anywhere because they are neatly put away under the cupboards. She just doesn't believe in letting things lay around. Everything has its' place.
Now you're probably thinking to yourself, even Bluey surely isn't going to start complaining about a woman who keeps her house too clean, right?
Those of you who answered no, obviously don't know me too well.
You see, it's bad enough when I can't find a blessed thing in her kitchen. It may take me 10 years to figure out her system and where everthing is. I also can't find anything in my kitchen because she took it upon herself to reorganize it as well.
"Tay, where do I keep the (fill in the blank)?", is probably the most frequently uttered phrase in my own kitchen, so you can probably figure out that I'm so lost in hers.
But this past week, when I was cooking sausages in her stove, I hit my breaking point.
I was making what us Italians call "gravy", when I placed some sweet and hot italian sausages in a little garlic and olive oil in a pyrex dish. The plan was to bake the sausages in the oven and then add them to the gravy. So, I put the oven on 400* and ask Tay where she keeps the potholder. I grab the potholder out of the draw she points me to and place the sausages on the oven rack using the potholder. I go out to the porch to sit and relax while they are cooking.
Ten to fifteen minutes later the sausages need turned over, I return to the kitchen, open up the stove and ....voila!...the pot holder is gone.
"Where is the pot holder?"
"Oh...I put it away."
"Why did you do that? I'm still cooking."
"Sorry, here it is."
So, I pull the pyrex pan out, put down the potholder and start flipping the sausages. It takes me about 30 seconds to accomplish the task. I finish and I open the oven door again and reach for the pot holder.
It is gone again.
"Are you insane?"
"Where the hell is the potholder?"
"Oh, sorry, I put it away"
"Christ almighty. Are you purposefully trying to give me cancer? Can you just leave the damn potholder out while I'm cooking and put it away after dinner? Is that too much to ask?"
"I thought you were done with it"
"Would it kill you to just leave the damn thing out for an hour?"
So, I put the sausages in the oven again and after 10 minutes or so, they are done. The potholder is miraculously still there and I add the sausages to the gravy.
After dinner, I add the leftover sausages back to the pyrex dish to keep them warm in the oven. I tell Tay that I put the sausages back in the oven and that I would be taking them out in a few minutes.
A few minutes later, yep, you guessed it...the potholder is gone again.
I'm thinking to myself. I don't know whether to kiss her for being so cleanly or strangle her for being so incessantly OCD.
I'm still thinking about it.
I think I like my name better because it will be more suitable when the Steelers are getting ass-raped by the Miami Dolphins. I mean, look at him. He's sure got a purty mouth!
Wouldn't be much better if the team broke down and got body painted cheerleaders instead? Then the fans would start praying for rain and snow.
Can we assume that Mr. Steely McBeam is also unemployed like the rest of Pittsburgh's steelworkers? Rumor has it, he used to be a cage dancer at Pegasus.