Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Pretty Girl 06.21.11 - Kelly Preston
Monday, June 20, 2011
While I Was Sminking
Sometimes rookies come of age ...
Sometimes people get hurt ...
Matt LaPorta to the 15-day DL with a mild high right ankle sprain.
Lonnie Chisenhall, who has not played since June 10, to the 7-day DL @ AAA with a concussion.
Sometimes just being there is more than enough ...
I sat in section 511, row L for the 5-1 Indians victory on Friday. We were so obscured from the right field wall that we all high fived, assuming Hafner's ball was gone. It was college ID night (half-price lower reserved and mezzanine seats) and a ton of kids showed. Many found that the promo seats were sold out and bought $8 seats to join us in the upper deck. That did not include the buddy of a group in the row behind me who was quoted as saying "he couldn't afford the $8 ticket." I will tell you that I would have never expected the torrent of talent that walked past row L. I felt like a diabetic in a chocolate factory.
I had never been further from the action, not even when I sat in the dimly remembered "auxilliary bleachers" that were set up on the site of the Batter's Eye Bar in the late 90's. Still, as an Indians fan, there is nothing that can approximate the sensation of enjoying a Tribe win with 38,000 of my closest friends. Even if this season should not culminate in a playoff appearance, we can still enjoy the ride.
Sometimes careers die ...
Fausto Carmona lost his league leading 9th game of the season tonight. Over his past seven starts, Fausto is 1-6 with 9.73 ERA, a .333 OBA and a 1.78 WHIP. He allowed seven earned runs to raise his MLB worst total to 66 and allowed his 15th round tripper of 2011. He has never allowed more than 17 in any season. Sadly, the most rope that Carmona will get is to the All-Star break. If he has not sufficiently recovered his command, and the Indians continue to contend, he will be demoted to the bullpen.
Sometimes the impossible happens ...
And sometimes seasons are resurrected by a visit from some stinking Pittsburgh bums. It may not be PC to kick a franchise that has not had a winning campaign in two decades, but you will always be judged by the company that you keep. My ire for the Steelers will fall upon all Pittsburgh franchsies, at least until the Brownies win a Super Bowl.
And then there's this ...
Cheers.
Sometimes people get hurt ...
Matt LaPorta to the 15-day DL with a mild high right ankle sprain.
Lonnie Chisenhall, who has not played since June 10, to the 7-day DL @ AAA with a concussion.
Sometimes just being there is more than enough ...
I sat in section 511, row L for the 5-1 Indians victory on Friday. We were so obscured from the right field wall that we all high fived, assuming Hafner's ball was gone. It was college ID night (half-price lower reserved and mezzanine seats) and a ton of kids showed. Many found that the promo seats were sold out and bought $8 seats to join us in the upper deck. That did not include the buddy of a group in the row behind me who was quoted as saying "he couldn't afford the $8 ticket." I will tell you that I would have never expected the torrent of talent that walked past row L. I felt like a diabetic in a chocolate factory.
I had never been further from the action, not even when I sat in the dimly remembered "auxilliary bleachers" that were set up on the site of the Batter's Eye Bar in the late 90's. Still, as an Indians fan, there is nothing that can approximate the sensation of enjoying a Tribe win with 38,000 of my closest friends. Even if this season should not culminate in a playoff appearance, we can still enjoy the ride.
Sometimes careers die ...
Fausto Carmona lost his league leading 9th game of the season tonight. Over his past seven starts, Fausto is 1-6 with 9.73 ERA, a .333 OBA and a 1.78 WHIP. He allowed seven earned runs to raise his MLB worst total to 66 and allowed his 15th round tripper of 2011. He has never allowed more than 17 in any season. Sadly, the most rope that Carmona will get is to the All-Star break. If he has not sufficiently recovered his command, and the Indians continue to contend, he will be demoted to the bullpen.
Sometimes the impossible happens ...
And sometimes seasons are resurrected by a visit from some stinking Pittsburgh bums. It may not be PC to kick a franchise that has not had a winning campaign in two decades, but you will always be judged by the company that you keep. My ire for the Steelers will fall upon all Pittsburgh franchsies, at least until the Brownies win a Super Bowl.
And then there's this ...
Cheers.
Pretty Girl 06.20.11 - Jennifer Holland
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Is This the Dream?
While I would hardly call the movie Inception an authority on the nature of reality, it does make an interesting suggesting. As Leo teaches Ellen Page to navigate the dreamscape, he instructs her that one clear method of discerning dream from reality is the notion of a sequential timeline. If you cannot recall just how you arrived in your current circumstances, chances are that there was no progression, that you were simply dropped there by a manic subconscious, that it is all but a dream. Minutes ago I sat and listened to this song...
For whatever reason the 10,000 Maniacs always conjure my high school's art room in my mind's eye. Many a time I have considered that perhaps I was locked within an awkward fantasy, significantly less tangible than it appeared. Maybe I am just asleep at some watershed moment. Perhaps at some instant that remains cloaked to my perception, the journey simply paused and continued in a fashion attuned to the insecurities of my battered psyche. Consider the possibility that my mind needed to be callused for a coming challenge, that there was no opportunity to do so in the waking, walking world. What if the miraculous myriad of synapses firing across my brain pan took it upon themselves to steel my resolve? Could I be establishing, here with all of you, the skill to take the next step while the endgame awaits me upon the far side?
The questions might seem moot, mere idle armchair philosophy, but I simply cannot clearly recall the sequence that has brought me to this moment. Now I know that my memory is not all it once was; I can accept this. Regardless, many of my memories seem no more concrete than those I have come to define as the ashes of dream. Some of these recollections are, in fact, far more ethereal. Did I take a job or hold a hand, did smell a breeze just because it is ordered in my mind that I did so? As my past whispers away, like smoke from a dying fire, I cannot be sure. I cannot be sure. This song seems real, seems to exist on the other side of some artificial threshold. Can I taste, touch and feel this melody because it is "real," while so many that I have heard since are not? It frightens and thrills me.
This is an exercise. Just as it all is. The game is to learn, to hone one's aptitude. No matter the quantification or classification, soon comes a reckoning. I want to be ready.
Cheers.
For whatever reason the 10,000 Maniacs always conjure my high school's art room in my mind's eye. Many a time I have considered that perhaps I was locked within an awkward fantasy, significantly less tangible than it appeared. Maybe I am just asleep at some watershed moment. Perhaps at some instant that remains cloaked to my perception, the journey simply paused and continued in a fashion attuned to the insecurities of my battered psyche. Consider the possibility that my mind needed to be callused for a coming challenge, that there was no opportunity to do so in the waking, walking world. What if the miraculous myriad of synapses firing across my brain pan took it upon themselves to steel my resolve? Could I be establishing, here with all of you, the skill to take the next step while the endgame awaits me upon the far side?
The questions might seem moot, mere idle armchair philosophy, but I simply cannot clearly recall the sequence that has brought me to this moment. Now I know that my memory is not all it once was; I can accept this. Regardless, many of my memories seem no more concrete than those I have come to define as the ashes of dream. Some of these recollections are, in fact, far more ethereal. Did I take a job or hold a hand, did smell a breeze just because it is ordered in my mind that I did so? As my past whispers away, like smoke from a dying fire, I cannot be sure. I cannot be sure. This song seems real, seems to exist on the other side of some artificial threshold. Can I taste, touch and feel this melody because it is "real," while so many that I have heard since are not? It frightens and thrills me.
This is an exercise. Just as it all is. The game is to learn, to hone one's aptitude. No matter the quantification or classification, soon comes a reckoning. I want to be ready.
Cheers.
Because I Need An Excuse For Hayley?
I might actually like the original because of this. Originally posted by Hayley via twitter. I'll do a bad romance with her whenever. ;-j
Cheers.
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Buffing Freaks Unite!
Uh... Who buys a package of 107 car washes? Why 107? I don' think that I have washed a car 107 times in my life.
MVotD - Sheryl Crow - Strong Enough
If I had shot this video, her lips would have been pink against the monochrome. In fact, until I saw it two minutes ago, that's how I remembered it. ;-j
Cheers
Talk About Invisible Cuts
Alia Shawkat by ruddiger
So, like, I watched Cedar Rapids and I noticed the chick from Arrested Development looked all hot and grown up as a hooker (and Anne Heche looked like Chloe from Fight Club). Then I started looking for some cheesecake of the aforementioned Alia Shawkat (great name!). I found little (you'll see it in a bit), but this piece is wicked cool. The white outfit is my fav. ;-j
Cheers.
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