Caught about a batter and a half of the game tonight. (We went to get food, and had to wait to pick it up, and the game was on in the waiting zone.) We left the restaurant with three balls on a batter in the top of the eighth, thereby enabling Crisp to make what sounded, from Troupy's reaction on the radio, like a really nice catch.

So they've won a game I saw a few minutes of this year, and thus I am not awfully cursed, just annoyingly so. I need not fear wandering through the bar portions of restaurants for fear that I might see a pitch and thereby doom the game to failure.

Much less cranky and antisocial than I was. Now just tired.

Stuff.

From: [identity profile] rmjwell.livejournal.com

Having nothing to do with this post...


But could you post or email me your quote about how tolerance doesn't mean putting up with stupidity (or something like that; I know I'm paraphrasing).

I have a need to add it to my user info page.

Well, actually I have a desire/i> to tattoo it backward on some people's foreheads so they can always read it while they are preening in their mirrors, but that gets all nonconsensual and icky.

Thanks!
.

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