• Home is where you sit on the couch in unlikely positions.

    How many times have you gone over to someone else’s home and popped your shoes off, plopped down on the couch, laid your head on a pillow, and walked your bare feet up the wall behind the couch? Me neither, but wouldn’t it be fun to do just once?

    Sidebar: how many of you can type with your feet above your head? When Cheryl gets home she will be so proud!

  • Without fanfare, 400 has come and gone.

    It was late at night. The Red Sox had completed their annual tradition of disappointment. A melting pot of emotion was sitting at my computer, typing an entry. Thirteen hours have passed, and it now seems that last night’s entry was the 400th – or so says the iBlog stats. Does 400 seem like a lot to you? I’ll bet it would if you had read them all. (Warning: the author is not advocating the reading of all 400 entries in one sitting. This web site may contain an English like substance that can cause: eye strain, repetitive motion injury, headache, fatigue, cramping, nausea, and diarrhea. Do not read this site for extended periods unless otherwise directed by your doctor.)

  • I hate the Yankees.

    A dark cloud descends over the land as the evil empire prevails again. Who, outside of New York, wanted to see this again?

    If you did, and you are, then you suck. It’s too late (or early, depending on your perspective) to pull any punches. Yankee hatred may be a birthright for the Boston bred, but I think I’m just barely objective enough to say this with deserved conviction. That, or I’m just really disappointed.

    As for me? This New England product hasn’t been this depressed since Calvin Schiraldi served up spaghetti and meatballs to the Mets in game six.

    Yeah, I know. I’m too upset to come up with good metaphors. This will just have to do.