How an unchallenged suburban kid from WNY who grew up loving Star Trek, joined the University of Arizona marching band and enjoys ice hockey, blackjack, documentaries, non-fiction sections in bookstores, musicals, Harry Potter, discussing the philosophical contexts of Lost, the Hollywood Bowl and misses the Fairfax Farmers Market karaoke, has found that he belongs in Los Angeles.
Monday, November 13, 2006
Hot stove
If the Red Sox sign J.D. Drew I am going to puke and may have to become a Pirates fan. This guy is Chris Gratton—übertalented, heartless, underachieving, soft piece of crap. We need a bat, especially if Manny goes away, but puhlease, bringing in clubhouse infections that aren't just lockerroom floor crabs ... that's beyond the beyond.
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