An Uncomfortable Day

Today was one of those days when time just got away from me. I could blame any number of things, but I'll put all the blame on two things that occupied my mind and invaded all my activities.
the White Sox and my underwear.

The Former World Champion Sox (man it sucks to write that, so I'll never do it again) broke the collective hearts of their fans last night when they got their asses handed to them by the Cleveland Indians. On the same night that the Sox were by all estimation, laying down, the Minnesota Twins won and clinched the play off spot the Sox had been eying. It's bad enough to lose, but to get embarrassed by a team that's twenty or so games out of the race makes you look like a bum. So the dream of back to back championships is over. Sox fans can take the gossamer off their eyes now and see the world for what it is, the same cruel place it was two years ago. Before the baseball gods smiled on our little corner of the world and let us breathe the sweet air of victory. Now we have to inhale the stench of loss, just like a Cubs fan. Sorry, my grief is making me lash out. It was a fun Summer. We went to quite a few games, and saw more winners than losers. We'll be back next year. Once you get a taste of winning, you can't give it up. Kind of like heroin, or Double Stuff Oreos.

The other problem today is my new underwear. I told you yesterday that this would be a problem and again, my psychic abilities win out. These new hinder binders are the same make and model as my old ones, but these aren't nearly as comfortable. My jewels are being bound in a way that I wouldn't pay a dominatrix for, and my sweet, juicy posterior is being mashed beyond recognition.

I will not give up. I will prevail over these uncomfortable garments, and stretch and mold them to my liking. Until then, I will offer my pain up to the baseball gods in exchange for a decent lead off man, some bull pen pitching and a hurricane in Detroit and Minneapolis. Later...Brian