I think I just threw up a little bit in my mouth.
And Matt is not here. And I’m home alone. And there’s no one here to cheer me up. It’s like, 3 in the morning. And I stayed up late working on this gingerbread house that kerploded. And seriously. I need a hug or something, because this is brutal. Seriously. My gingerbread house, first of all, was NOT gingerbread. See, I cheated. I got what I THOUGHT was a kit at Walgreens. It turns out it is a chocolate house. Where you have to melt chocolate and mold it. And cool it. And stick it together. And that is stupid.
Chaos ensued and now I (and my counter) am covered in chocolate. And my little candy people are covered in chocolate. It’s like a chocolate Mt. Vesuvius blew up all over my chocolate Pompeii and my candy people are little chocolate fossils for future sugar architects to uncover generations from now. This is how the candy people lived, they will say. See? This guy didn’t even have time to leave his house when the chocolate volcano kerploded. Good thing that sucker is dormant.
They need a hero, that’s what they need. A-
It’s like God is listening to my internal monologue because Google just brought tidings of great joy.
Did you guys SEE this?
That’s the happiest thing I’ve seen since “The Situation” bashed his head into a wall in season four of Jersey Shore.
I miss Pedro. And Mike Lowell. And Kevin Youkilis. I think Bobby Valentine is keeping him captive somewhere. In like, a dungeon. Or a really big box. And he’s created a robot. A Youkbot. And that’s what might go to New York. The Youkbot.
Sleep? You ready for me yet?
I have been drinking. You know how I am when I drink.
This game is tragic. I mean… It is like that movie where all your friends tell you it sucks but it has that guy from Twilight in it. And, as much as you pretend you ate being ironic when you fake flirt with the movie… He is hot and he does have that accent. So you watch it. And you think… Hey… It is not terrible. And then Encarnaciasshole knocks one out if the park and you can’t believe you just wasted $9 on that movie ticket. It is like that.
Oh god just fire Bobby Valentine and bring back Youkie already…
Um. So. Hi guys. Um. How’s your summer?
I am in Durham and Kevin Youkilis is here and our eyes met and i might be hysterical.
I just took a picture of Kevin Youkilis stretching….
Don’t worry. I took close ups with the other camera. I think my boyfriend is uncomfortable. Um.
But it is Kevin Youkilis, you guys! I wish I wasn’t already blasted. Am I crying? Maybe.
It is starwars night at the Durham bulls athletic park but who cares because Kevin Youkilis is here? Oh. And chew baca threw a pitch. But whatever. Kevin Youkilis is here.
I talked to the paw sox manager. He says youk looks great. I said, yep. He says, you know he is taken right? I say, oh, me too, pointing to Matt, who is far away. He says- mmhmmm. I just got mmhmmed by the paw sox coach, you guys! But is doesn’t matter because youk is here! So is matsui – for the bulls- but who cares?
You know. Because youk is HERE.
This is how close I am to the fricking bullpen.
Matt went to get beer. It is probably because of my teenagebieberesque girl scream I let out a second ago.
Jose Iglesias is here. And before the game, I ate a cheese sandwich with Ryan Lavarnway. But really. Who cares? Youkilis is here. Jose is batting. But I am still screaming 20. Maybe this is way my new red six friends are sitting far away. Youk is batting
He is on first and I spilled my beer.
Matt is back. I am conflicted. Because the love of my life is at first.
Youk stole second.
The inning is over. But I was watching youk. So I do not know what happened. Whatever. I am like… 50 feet from third base, so this works for me too.
The bulls ate scoring. Whatever. I think youk looked at me. I mean, it is prob bec I screamed “father my babies” during a moment of silence… But a look counts. Oh. Um. Hi, Matt.
I mean, I took his picture. He is scarier up close.
Matsui is too close to me, you guys…
Matt is great.
I am tipsy.
You know who else is great? Kevin Youkilis!
It is star wars day and dearth vader is here and I am not talking about matsui.
Whatever. Kevin Youkilis gruffed at me.
He is batting.
He struck out. I yell, it’s okay, baby. We can talk about it.
And he looks at me.
Maybe youk and I will hang out at the cheesecake factory after the game. Never can tell.
Matt says if I leave with youk, he is going to Vegas. What does that mean?
Btw-youk says he is feeling good. He has no comment about bobby v drama.
So. On the good camera- I have like three shots of matsui scratching his crotch. Just FYI. Looks like he picked up a little something extra last time in new york…
I am not even watching the game. This is ridic.
My photos do not make sense. My actual camera- takes better pics. Will show those tomorrow.
Youk struck out again.
My mother just sent me a text telling me not to get so tipsy that I flip over the rail. She reads my blog!
I have so many funny things to tell you all when I am sober.
There is a cow. See? Oh. I get it. The bulls. Oh.
The cow sign says- if you hit it- get a steak. Matt says youk deserves more than steak if he hits it. I agree.
I am happy. Recap later.
Number 11? US watching the SKANKTASTIC series over the weekend.
Those should be YOUR tears, Bobby Valentine!!!!
I think I relate most to the Brad Pitt clip from “Legends of the Fall.”
No. I couldn’t save them… I just… COULD NOT.
I have been working a lot. Which is why you haven’t heard from me.
You know who hasn’t been working?
THE RED SOX.
Sure, you scooted by the Twins, Bobby, but you allowed THIS to happen:
So, thanks for that.
I like how it’s the same anniversary of the Titanic. I thought that too. Thanks, Bobby.
Seriously. This weekend was like the movie “John Carter.” It cost a billion dollars to make, panned, and got people fired.
You suck like the “John Carter” movie, Bobby Valentine.
A friend was at Fenway and said cries of “Tito” echoed the monster.
Seriously. I think my feelings regarding this weekend are best expressed in the following video clip:
Well, it’s all up from here. Right, Dawson?
Go Bruins. Game seven, baby.
Red Sox. I just… I…
So many movie references. SO MANY.
What are your thoughts, Soxies? If you could describe the season so far in one movie quote, what would it be? Mine would be, “I think we’re going to need a bigger boat.”
Really guys. It’s just April. It’s just… APRIL.
PS- I am going to familiarize myself with THIS scent so I know who to avoid at bars. I suggest you do the same.
So. Um. I’m ticked off.
Instead of watching the game during my twenty minute break to walk the El, I’m talking to YOU, Bobby Valentine, in a way I have NEVER talked to one of our managers before. Not Grady Little. Not Tito. Not even John Lackey.
An abridged version of what I wrote earlier today- without the leprosy references and the part about hoping you dissipate into a thousand molecules and that the brain molecules float to Raleigh…
Dear Bobby Valentine,
Maybe, instead of experimenting with spray tanner, talking to the media, practicing your smirks in front of the mirror, oh and TALKING TO THE MEDIA,
You should be developing our players. And not making enemies. Especially ones vindictive enough to start a new segment (look for it tomorrow) with a fun fact about you every day.
And a sidenote- for those of you who think this is about Kevin Youkilis- it is NOT. It is about a team MANAGER talking smack about his own fricking team. Unprofessional and Unintelligent.
It doesn’t matter if Kevin Youkilis walks in every day with a Frick-You-Tude. It’s something you deal with privately, a PERSONNEL issue. And not in the media. NEVER appropriate. That’s one of the things that had us as fans so ticked in September, remember? One of those things that was going to STOP in 2012?
For the first time, I want Kevin Youkilis to leave the Red Sox. Because you can’t play in that kind of environment. It’s going to break my heart to see him go- but I don’t think he has a choice. What if your boss was on the radio saying this crap about you?
Bobby V, we’re done.
I’m going to root for your team. And root for you to leave Boston. We need someone who will UNIFY the clubhouse. Not crap all over it.
I don’t like watching people crap, personally.
I really wanted to like you.
So, I’m not the only one questioning this, Bobby V.
“I know he plays as hard as anybody I’ve ever seen in my life. I have his back and his teammates have his back,” Dustin Pedroia said. “I really don’t know what Bobby’s trying to do, but that’s not the way we go about our stuff around here. He’ll figure that out. The whole team is behind Youk.”
No. It’s not, is it, Dustin Pedroia?
Screaming at the Shortstop’s Jup thinks it could be trouble…
If you have a blog- and you write about this- e-mail me the link at firstname.lastname@example.org and I’ll add yours too.
So. Today I did something. It was a big something. And it’s something that I’ve been meaning to do for awhile. I just couldn’t keep living the double life. I have to be myself, you know?
So I came out.
As a Red Sox fan.
To the boy. The one I date from Boone. The one who visits me.
Remember the perfect-dream-guy? The one that didn’t call me months ago? And the one that decided to call me before I moved to Raleigh? The boy from Boone?
Yep. That one.
So, he knew I was a Red Sox fan.
But he didn’t know I was a Red Sox FAN.
To prepare him, I took him to a minor league soccer game yesterday. The Railhawks.
We all know I don’t give a frick about soccer. But I do love yelling. It was interesting to see his eyes do that “I’m-with-crazy” thing when I threw my thunderstick and yelled obscenities at the ref.
He said, “Oh. I am beginning to get it. This must be what you’re like.”
I said, “Yes, except I actually CARE about the Red Sox.”
I then had to explain to him what a Soxzombie is. I started out with a few benefits of dating a Soxzombie- of which there are several.
I mean, how often can you predict a girl’s mood with a single click of the mouse? I showed him the Red Sox website where he can easily see my mood in advance of seeing me (convenient) and I showed him the extensive baseball schedule (“See, Matt? I’ll never be clingy!”).
Then I showed him my wall calendar where I color code the games by broadcast schedule. Then I showed him my Sox paraphernalia. Of which I have a lot. Then I showed him my collection of Sox magazines. Then I showed him my Kevin Youkilis bulletin board. THEN I showed him who Kevin Youkilis is (thanks, GOOGLE).
Then I paused, smiled sweetly, and said, “Go Sox.”
And then the pause got longer.
And the smile got awkward.
And he said-
“I think I can be okay with that.”
But he said it strangely, right?
And then I said-
And he said “Um.”
He “UM-ed” me.
So there was this other pause, right?
And I told him the PawSox are coming into town in a few weeks, and that I wanted him to come.
“I don’t know.”
And there was a longer pause.
I said, “This is important… and kind of a big deal… and please.”
I swear to GOD he said…
“So, I mean, does this mean you’ll dress up as a guy?”
“Like, will you still like, dress up and stuff?”
“Like, when you go to the game, are you like one of the guys, or do you still look hot?”
“I ALWAYS LOOK HOT.”
That conversation really just happened.
And I wanted to share it.
And, in my defense, this guy is 99.999998 percent perfect. Oh. And he fixed my window. And brought me a koozie. And takes me on the river.
He doesn’t know about the blog, really.
I think we’ve come far enough for today.
If you’re in Raleigh- hit the Bistro on Hurricane starting at noon today- Triangle Red Sox Nation is blood driving it and watching the game- and I’ll be live iPhone blogging it…
So… see you in a few.
Dustin Pedroia was the only one playing tonight. I don’t know if you noticed.
Bobby V- did YOU notice?
No. Kevin Youkilis got some hits (THANK GOD).
And, honestly, with the exception of that one inning (and let’s be honest, he’s not used to staying in that long, BOBBY V), Bard didn’t pitch terribly…
We proved we can kind of hit.
And we proved we don’t totally suck.
Oh. But we didn’t win.
No. We. Did. Not.
Let’s just forget tonight happened…
Honestly, what do you think of Bard’s performance? What does it say about pitching, 2012? Fumbling for your life vest yet?
At least we’re not alone.
Our friends in pinstripes, always striving to be the center of all things attention, can’t stand it when the media is Boston-centric. So they’ve decided to apply themselves like the hairless catted super villains they’ve always striven to be… and wrench that notoriety of failure from our cold Tito-less hands.
The Yankees are 0 and 3.
No, really. Thanks. Your sweptastic ramblings are keeping my panic at bay. Don’t let the broom hit you on the way to your massive amounts of shame. How are those trillion dollar box seats working out for you this week?
I mean, we went up against the Verlamonster. But. Um. You had a challenge too. I mean. Um. Josh Hellickson. Um. He’s okay. I guess.
I had a dream (or did I?) of Nick Swisher. He was sleeping, a fevered ranting, really. Tossing and turning. And shivering. He didn’t have a blanket, see, and every once in awhile, his fist would strike out at imaginary Tampa rays.
“No!” he would cry… “No! Jeremy Hellickson! Get away from me, Jeremy Hellickson! I’ll give you anything you want! Just don’t take my man card again, Jeremy Hellickson!”
How are YOU sleeping, Mariano Rivera?
At least OUR “closer” doesn’t wear t-shirts to sleep with his own face on them. I imagine you do that, Mariano. It must suck to have to look at the mirror and see your face TWICE in the morning after that opener.
You should give yourself a gift basket. It would make you feel better. Derek Jeter can help and you guys can bond over mangoes. Mangoes are probably a healthier thing to bond over than epic, epic failure.
Did you dream about Jeremy Hellickson last night, too, Joe Girardi?
I feel like we’re forgetting someone…
“It’s never good to come into the season and get swept,” Brian McCann says.
McCann? Oh, hi, Braves. I didn’t even notice you in the 0 and 3 clubhouse. Sup?
It’s kind of like September. How you were totally trying to outdo us in failure and no one noticed. You should wear more neon, Atlanta. Once you get those braces off, I’m sure it will be different. I’m sure the boys at school will notice you and you’ll have a real date to the dance and not a fake date like a cousin or something. Not that you do that. Not that I’m making a mean southern stereotype. Because I’m in the south too, see.
At least we are not Minnesota.
They just got swept by the fricking Orioles. The same Orioles that can’t beat a community college team.
So. Sucks to be us. But also sucks to be everyone else, apparently.
Because the winners lose to the community college kids, clearly an homage to some sitcom.
Check back at 7 p.m., kids. I think you’ll be pleased. Another blogger has issued a Toronto-centric challenge. So tonight’s redemption (and I mean re-fricking-demption, John Farrell. I am not playing your sick, sick syrup game) will be the opposite of sucky. I think.
Just got home. From an Easterrific Easter. Have whole box of peeps. Am most pleased at my present. Most pleased.
I shall have one. Just one. You know. As a special reward for following the speed limit (kinda).
Now, to see what happened to the Sox today. Hello, Google News Alerts…
Two beers later. And I am fine. I am so fine. I think I will walk out to my lovely patio and… Oh. Right. My windows had an… ACCIDENT…
So. Three losses. No blinds. No peeps.
So… it’s not exactly ruining my life. But it is ruining my weekend.
Actually, I don’t blame Josh Beckett. You are just one man, Josh Beckett. And I don’t blame you, Alfredo Aceves. I NEVER said that you were a closer.
Bobby V. did.
In fact… the only things these three games have… in common… is YOU, Bobby Valentine. YOU. YOU and failure.
YOU kept Josh Beckett in forever. YOU didn’t kick Jacoby in the ego Thursday when he refused to play baseball. YOU let the runs stack up today. YOU, YOU, YOU.
I am too angry for an iPhone video.
My feelings right now on Bobby V. can best be expressed by Stephen Fry:
GET it together, SOX.
It’s just three games. It’s only April.
And I’m only having an icky case of the dejavuz…