Whew, it was beginning to feel like I would never hit up a new ballpark in 2010. Thankfully, this drought has been remedied, and I’ve sated my need for travel and baseball at least for a few more weeks, and Real Men Don’t Wear Small has its first update since the move to the Wordpress. My latest venture took me out to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, where I visited PNC Park, home of the hapless Pittsburgh Pirates. I say that, despite the fact that on that particular day, they still beat my Atlanta Braves, in a true case of epic fail.
The repository of all my Pittsburgh photos as a whole, are up in the pictures section, to those of you who would feel so inclined to look and peruse.
- Cleaned kitchen
- Trimmed hedges
- Ran laundry
- Cleaned cat tyranny
- Bought house essential
- Changed oil in car
- Couldn’t get oil filter off of car due to lack of leverage, grew infuriated, had to settle for not changing it
- Spilled a boatload of oil on driveway, had to dump a boatload of cat litter on it, and it will sit on my driveway for a few days
- Burned my right forearm on an oil pan that was still scalding hot, resulting in blisters
- OH YEAH, the chrome trim plate on the peak of my car’s grill snapped off, making my car look ghetto as hell, leaving me wondering if I can actually find a part number, or if I should try much luck at a junkyard for a piece of aesthetic trim.
- John Smoltz statue fell down and snapped at the ankle like Sid Vicious, subsequently thrown away
I’m pleased with being productive with chores and tedious household tasks, but I’d gladly have put them off for something better to do, and subsequently had to gripe and bitch about how they needed to get done at a later time.
I guess this is the negligent consequence of being a little smitten. Funny how things work out sometimes.
I’m late for work, and I’ll be later, but I don’t really care. I’m in a good mood today.
So today I was leaving work today, already feeling a hair disappointed, and I notice this African-American woman getting into her own car. She’s staring at me, but I don’t think anything of it. I sit down in my car, and fire up the ignition, and in my peripheral vision, I see movement in my rear-view mirror, and suddenly the lady is standing behind my car, evidently taking a picture of my car, likely the plates.
I quickly get out of my car and say “excuse me.” No response. Oh, this better be good. “Hello?” No response. “HEY. Can I know why you took a picture of my car?”
“Weren’t you the one delivering menus in the hotel?”
Oh, I get it! The Chinaman, despite wearing a dress shirt, and pin-striped slacks, like 90% of the people in my work complex, is obviously in disguise, to deliver Chinese food menus in the hotel also in the complex!
Read more »
It’s kind of silly why, but hopefully within the next few days, things will become clearer and I’ll be able to focus on things better again soon.
I made a brief cameo in Pittsburgh on Sunday, to knock one more park off of my ultimate list to see all 30 MLB parks. It was convenient for two reasons – it was a day game, in the Eastern Standard Timezone, which meant I was capable of arriving in the morning, seeing baseball, and then leave in the evening. And secondly, because it was against the Atlanta Braves. But since I was there in attendance, the Braves D-squad did as they were expected to, and lost, sending me back home with my tail between my legs. But if there was any genuine good to come out of the trip, it would be the shown Primanti Brothers’ pastrami sandwich. A heap of pastrami, slaw, tomatoes and cheese, and most importantly the fistful of french fries all smashed in between two pieces of thick bread, and we have a meal that sated me all the way up until the wee-hours of the night. Absolutely phenomenal.
Pretty much everything else, will come in the inevitable update to Real Men Don’t Wear Small, when one more park falls off my list.
But I’ve been on a little bit of a Eurobeat kick lately. I first watched a few old DVDs of Initial D, and the next thing I knew, I was digging out old storage boxes, and retrieving some of the non-stop anniversary collections, apparently celebrated every ten collections. And since I’ve been doing a pretty long commute the last seven business days, I’ve been listening to these old CDs, and letting the bass beat my heart for me while I’m still waking up, while feeling reminiscent of the past.
It amuses me to no end that the basis of Eurobeat revolves around three things – love, fire, and money. There’s a whole lot of dancing mentioned, but it’s always with one or all of the aforementioned three factors goal in mind.