I was in Miami last weekend. I’ll post more on that when I get the opportunity to do so, but the primary reason was to go visit the Florida Marlins ballpark, before they ditch the “Florida,” and become the Miami Marlins in 2012, complete with brand new ballpark. Real Men Don’t Wear Small update featuring the Marlins’ final season at Sun Life Stadium, in Miami, Florida.
But thank the fuck god for this rain delay. Without it, I might not have made it home tonight.
After I somehow eventually manage to get back to Atlanta, I don’t want to set foot on an airplane for the rest of the summer. This means I will miss out on my dad’s birthday, and a family beach trip, but at this point, I really don’t give a shit. Flying hasn’t just lost its luster, it’s become the mother of all inconvenient chores that does nothing but infuriate me now.
Now if you’ll excuse me, if I’m a betting man, I think I should start looking for cheap lodging for tonight, in Fort Fucking Lauderdale, and prepare to go to bed early as fuck so I can be up at early as fuck, and get back to this fucking airport that I’ll probably get bumped twice before managing to make it back to fucking Atlanta on a fucking Tuesday afternoon, taking more fucking money out of my fucking wallet.
P.S. Miami fucking sucks, but I’ll get much more into that when I’m not fucking mad as hell.
Corresponding with my recent trip up to Aberdeen, Maryland, the most recent Real Men Don’t Wear Small update features Ripken Stadium, home of the Aberdeen IronBirds, the short-season A-ball developmental team of the Baltimore Orioles. Translation: a level below the minor leagues, for really, really young draftees and teenagers to get a taste of what professional baseball is like.
A visit into D.C. for Safeway’s Barbecue Battle turns into a celebration of smoky meat and other delicious barbecue, and then me asserting my dominance over the lesser beings of the food chain, by participating in a Man v. Food Nation eating competition of eating hot wings against the clock.
And then Huzzard and I travel up to Aberdeen, Maryland, to visit the home of the Ripken Family Baseball Academy, as well as the short-season Aberdeen IronBirds developmental Orioles team.
Continue reading “Photos: D.C. Barbecue Battle, Aberdeen Baseball Heaven”
A life with no traditions is a life without the little things to sometimes look forward to. For the last three years now, I have made it out to Baltimore at least once, in order to take advantage of the liberal beer availability with the company of various friends, just outsides of the confines of Camden Yards, which, despite my general disdain for the city of Baltimore, it actually is home to my favorite ballpark in Major League Baseball. Mostly thanks to Pickle’s.
Continue reading “Photos: Annual Baltimore drinking and baseball but mostly drinking trip”
I don’t want to fly in and out of Washington DC again for a long time. Or anywhere else for that matter. I’m getting exasperated with the process these days.
