Things that have actually made me (irrationally?) angry during the past two weeks:

1. Sash vehemently defending his offer of Casey Blake for K-Rod to another owner in our Yahoo! fantasy league, and resoundly critizing my theory that Blake for Mike Gonzalez would be a much more reasonable, while still beneficial, alternative.
2. ESPN.com's Bill Simmons proposing the US Weekly fantasy draft -- a watered-down, neutered version of the Laminated List Fantasy Draft I've had published on the Web since February, and established since December -- and then posting two mailbags since, neither of which acknowledged the e-mail I sent the day the article ran, in which I explained his obvious oversight. (Notice there are no links to Simmons. I'm not bitter, Sports Man. You Boston-loving, over-the-hill father.)

Things that have blown my mind during that same time period:

1. That a girl I was talking to on the phone last Friday called me out for watching a movie and drinking by myself, AS I WAS DOING EXACTLY THAT. The comment was unprompted.
1. In my defense, it was only 8 p.m.
   
2. Upon entering a bar in Oneonta for the first time ever, I ordered a drink and glanced up at the TV -- the first I had seen in a week -- and promptly saw Bryan Hoch giving an interview about the '86 New York Mets on SportsNet New York. Given, he's the managing editor of Mets Inside Pitch, but he's my age, and they tend to go for people who have nothing better to do (i.e. are retired) on these things. Of course, maybe Bryan didn't.
3. The term for a single cigarette, purchased on the street or in a corner store is "loosey" like "a loose cigarette." For some reason, I always thought it was "Lucy" -- dating back to when Erik Green would buy them during breaks at Hebrew School -- and could never figure out why. Thank you, Dave Chapelle. My life's perspective has been re-oriented.
1. Yes, that does mean I only recently saw all of Season 2 of Chapelle's Show. I'm culturally deficient. Well, mainstream culture, anyway.
4. I found out this kid I was in elementary and junior high school (P.S. 193 and Crudde Hudde (IS 240), respectively) with, Derek Rada, is in a band called Finding Four, and they are very good.
1. Their song "NYC" now blares from the speakers of anyone checking my myspace profile.
1. Sorry Akie, thefoundation's run of profile song dominance has ended. (TheFoundation is also on myspace.)
   
5. The apartment I'm close to getting in Oneonta is huuuuuugigantonormous.
1. And also within walking distance of bars.
1. Oneonta does not know what it is getting itself into.
1. Especially because I just re-read The Game.
   

There's a line in my myspace profile that references Old Britney's abs being an ideal body trait for the potential missus. My good buddy Bryan Hoch saw it, and felt the need to pass along the following photo of Current Britney.

I was just trying to keep the dream alive. Now, I see it was lap-sitting in the driver's seat during an accident. Thanks, Bryan. Thanks a lot.

With friends like these ...

My relationship with Sash, in a series of three voicemail messages:

Saturday, Apr. 15, 2006 4:56 a.m.
(Upon returning home after we -- and others -- met two girls on the corner of 12th St. and 3rd Ave., in front of Due Amici, at 2:30 a.m., convinced them to hang out with us for the next two hours and got their numbers)

Couch, my man, it's Sash. I just want to know if I should accept it tomorrow, or if you going to have an official ceremony or something for Wingman of the Fucking Year Award. Cuz holla at your boy for the dirt he did tonight. I was on fire. Got that shit, brought it out -- who got phone numbers, my man? Who got hotties, my man? Two random fucking chicks off the street. They cute too. One of them, the one who's not as cute, she's really cute. And the other one, she's just as cute and she's not just ... I don't know, man. They fine. But yo, anyway, I'm about to go to bed. Holla atcha boy tomorrow first thing, aight homey? Peace.

Saturday Apr. 22, 10:57 p.m.
(Upon hearing I was going to one of the two aforementioned girls' birthday party)

Get ready little Benjamin, it's Sash. I'm going to give you one week to fuck this chick. Aaaaand if you don't, I'ma be very, very disappointed with you. Aaaaand, yeah. Holla.*

*I may or may not have censored this entry to protect Sash from the wrath of his girl. You decide if and where any censorship took place. Kind of like Choose Your Own Adventure.

Tuesday May 16, 7:56 P.M.
(After the fourth home run in five games by a waiver-wire injury pickup in our Yahoo! Fantasy Baseball League)

CASEY FUCKING BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKE!!!