Okay, yeah. Posting has been, shall we say, sporadic this week. But I have a good excuse! Really, I do! Want to hear it?
I spend all of my free interwebs time reading about football, of course!
You see, August is a very special month for the football fan. It's the very last month of a painfully long off-season. The glimmer of football is finally visible at the end of this six month long tunnel.
And it is also the month where hope springs eternal. Everything will be different this year! Not at all like last year! Last year was bad, but this year will be good and will surprise people!
In August, your team has yet to lose a game (let alone all of their games for their season). In August, your team hasn't been beaten by teams you never knew existed. In August, your team has players who can field punts without fumbling the ball. In August, your team hasn't had a quarterback run out of the back of his own end zone.
The slate is clean. The reports from training camp are coming in daily with little nuggets of promise.
Sure, I may spend some Saturday and Sunday a month from now banging my head against a coffee table, shouting "Why, why, why did you do that?" and then take the rest of the weekend (and the following Monday) to sulk in my darkened apartment.
But for now, I can't wait for the seasons to start!
You didn't come here to listen to me set myself up for dramatic irony, though. So, for those of you who hate football, the requisite Friday e-phemera:
Interesting Priorities: According to a Dutch survey, the general public prefers a good trip to the washroom over making sweet passionate love.
Continuing Unhealthy Blog-session*: Hey, what has Vladimir Putin been up to lately? While Obama is struggling to get people not to shout, Putin is out watching sports, taking pictures with chicks and generally kicking ass. Here's a picture of the Iron Man of Russia with his puppet Medvedevdeveddev or whatever the hell his name is:
Now there's some fodder for a caption contest. Anyone interested? Take a whack at it in the comment section if you are.
And Finally, Breakfast Sandwich: I love them, and there's a place by my office that makes them. They are great. So, I figure why not throw their name out there as a karma thing.
It's on Fulton Market. Yeah, I know. "When will I ever find myself down on Fulton Market looking for a breakfast sandwich?" I don't know. But hey, I might have said the same thing to you two years ago.
*Blog-session would be a portmanteau of Blog and Obsession, for you linguistics nerds out there.
Yes, you're head is beeger than mine, but understand thees, in 1.2 seconds I will be holding your balls in my hand.
Jupiter makes the best damn breakfast sandwiches in the city of Chicago.
To keep the Karma think going, they get the freshest eggs, direct from the farm, from Shore Egg next door.
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