Let's hear it for Roger Clemens and his stellar performance today for the Yankees: the fucker didn't even get out of the second inning (against the lowly White Sox, no less), giving up nine hits and eight runs in 1.2 innings. Okay, only three of those eight runs were earned, but still, this douchebag is supposed to be George Steinbrenner and the Yankees' personal savior.
IN MY ROOM
After a cooler-than-normal July here in K.C. (attention, all you global warming crazies!), August has started off muckin' fuggy here. Therefore, I decided to take a proactive stance instead of suffering in the beastly heat by moving my computer and big TV into my 9' x 12' bedroom to take advantage of the meat locker-like conditions provided by my mighty little window unit air conditioner, since my central air is just about worthless when it gets above 85 degrees. It's a little cramped in here, but I'll manage. I always do...
EVERY MOTORIST'S WORST NIGHTMARE...
Unbelievable scenes from the Twin Cities last night. Here's actual footage of the bridge collapsing taken from a security camera. Oddly enough, I've never driven on that bridge, even though I've visited the Twin Cities three times in the last five years. What's really scary is there are probably lots of other older bridges just waiting to do the same thing. Considering the time of day it happened, I'm amazed that the carnage wasn't worse than it was. Sad, very sad...SOULSVILLE REDUX
Nice documentary last night on PBS on the rise and fall of Stax Records. Their story is even more interesting than that of Motown Records, and probably would make for a great mini-series on TV, if they ever decide to make one. Again, I highly recommend a visit to 926 E. McLemore Avenue in Memphis to the Stax museum, if you're ever down that way—it's quite fascinating. To paraphrase Mick Jagger: don't mind the maggots (on your way there)...
CLASSIC MISHEARD LYRIC #44
"All Along The Watchtower"--JIMI HENDRIX EXPERIENCE (1968) "Businessman drink my wine/Plowmen dig my earth..." I thought Jimi was inviting us to "Come and dig my earth."
DEM BONES, DEM BONES...
I took my mom out to watch our mighty Kansas City T-Bones minor league beisbol team play on Tuesday night over on the Kansas side out by the Kansas Speedway. We're talking minor minor league baseball, but it's surprisingly entertaining anyway, in spite of the fact that some of the players are in worse physical shape than yours truly. Sadly, with minor league players, you also get minor league umpires, and the bozo who worked home plate must have worked for FEMA at some point, based on the bizarre calls he made. Luckily, the T-Bones prevailed despite of this yahoo's efforts, and the game was most enjoyable thanks in large part to
the guy on the right in this here photo. Talk about your dream jobs—I sure wouldn't mind travelling the country from ballpark to ballpark and spending a couple hours jacking off in a chicken suit (at $10,000 a show—right!), and yet no one would know what I looked like and no one would bother me in real life, kinda like how a certain band that wore make-up operated in the '70s...
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