And Just Where the Hell Have You Been?

Ok. I am sooooo slacker. I should be writing more frequently. If for nothing else than my own sanity. I am, again, going to try and do this whole "blog" thing. I'm not deluded enough to think that many folks actually read this stuff.
This is more for me.
Especially at this time of year.
The baseball season is over and for the first time in a while the boys from the Bronx have a legitimate shot at finishing the race in the only acceptable fashion for true New Yorkers. I know what you are thinking.
Nine straight division titles man!
That's nice. Really it is. Especially if you are from Atlanta. They love that sort of thing deep way down in Dixie.
But Yankee fans are a little more demanding.
(You say arrogant, I say demanding...)
Sure we have been in the playoffs every year since the middle of the Clinton Administration but we only have four titles to show for it. The Yanks celebrate World Titles, not division championships. And as fans, we love to go along for the ride. And I am all packed up and ready to go.
This is my month for basketcasiness. I get to throw stuff and rant and rave at the TV and basically act like a moron. Think of it as one man's revenge for putting up with twelve sessions of PMS and full moon loonery annually. I get one month, women get twelve.
That's fair right?
Anyhoo...
So I have the baseball playoffs going for me. Yep. Got that. All excited and perky over it. Though this year I promise it will be different.
I will try and refrain from getting all fargin bastich in front of the kids during the games.
Seriously. This time I mean it.
No fargin bastiches.
And the remote is off the "toss list". You know the "toss list". Those are the objects it's ok to hurl at the closest wall when someone on your team does something unfortunate. Like Jared Weaver giving up the walk-off home run in game four of the World Series in '03 to those pesky Fish. Or like Kevin Brown getting poled around by the Red Sox in game 7, 2004.
Ah. The memories. Many a household appliance died an ugly death that fall.
But not this year.
This year will be different. I will behave.
So that the remote and other assorted objects need not die senselessly.
Play ball.