this must be what going to work hung over feels like:



ouch.

let me start by saying this: i am in no way a baseball fan. its been well documented here all the ways i actually hate baseball. having said that, im going to admit that ive been watching baseball on tv.

even when there were perfectly good nhl and college football games on. sometimes on the same tv.

they were games 5 and 7 of the american league championship series, otherwise known as the alcs for the phonetically challenged known as baseball fans. the reason i was drawn into watching game four was a guy named josh beckett. his performance in this game was the stuff of legends, the stuff of postseason lore that little kids will get to tell their grandkids about in 50 years. as in, "grandpa, did you really see beckett single handedly win the pennant?"

check out this line: 8 innings, 1 run, 11 strikeouts. in a crucial playoff game with your team down in the series. in baseball, thats called a nice outing. in the real sports world, thats called clutch. thats kobe hittin a fadeaway three at the buzzer. thats a 80 yard touchdown drive in the fourth quarter two minute drill to win the super bowl.

and while all these are apt comparisons, beckett also had to wade thru the type of bullshit that only baseball could come up with. after flying out against beckett, eighty seven year old punk ass bitch kenny lofton decided to start talk shit and run at the mound. really? after getting out? do you see wide receivers yelling at the corner after dropping a pass? only in baseball.

even before the lofton debacle, the cleveland indians decided they wanted to try and get clever. they hired country artist danielle peck to sing the national anthem. peck just happens to be becketts ex girlfriend. there were many whispers about the indians intentionally trying to rattle beckett by going with peck, but we all saw how well that worked out. beckett had a nice little fuck you to the team he just beat:

"I don't get paid to make those fucking decisions. She's a friend of mine, so it doesn't bother me at all. Thanks for flying one of my friends to the game so she could watch it for free."

that is the snarl of a true competitor. in a sport so lacking in athleticism, grit or the desire to win championships before all other goals, beckett's elevates himself above the sludge of overweight overpaid boys playing catch with a man of a game. i would hate to be the rockies right now.

it was genghis khan a bazillion years ago that said:

"The greatest joy a man can know is to conquer his enemies and drive them before him. To ride their horses and take away their possessions. To see the faces of those who were dear to them bedewed with tears and to clasp their wives and daughters in his arms."

most of the reason why khan was such a terror on the lands of asia for such a long time was that he was very in touch with the ruthless, aggressive ambitions of man. he didnt just want power and glory and possessions, but he wanted yours, and to take them from you, kill you, maim your dead body, stand over your remains and regal in his success. khan maybe have understood, more so than any else in history, the nature of man to covet those things that belong to others.

maybe the burning bush on mount sinai understand the nature of man too, and thats why it told moses not to covet his neighbors wife.

because ultimately, in modern times, it is the coveting of someone elses women that defines the modern man's need to take. its why the plight of the tragic male hero on all the tv shows is the guy who wants the girls hes not supposed to have. case in point: greys anatomy, beverly hills 90210, sex in the city, and various others.

so the point of all this ranting above is that it is natural for humans to want to fuck someone theyre not supposed to want to fuck. this realization applies in all situations.

your friends girlfriend

your coworker

your boss's wife.

your neighbor.

these are all people you probably shouldnt sleep with for a multitude of reasons. does that mean you wont want to? no. does that mean you shouldnt want to? again no. people need to realize that you should fuck who you want, when you want, regardless of where they live, where they work, who theyre married to or how much they make. at the end of the day, its natural selection. everyone is free game, let the chips fall where they may.

for fucks sake

its almost a sure thing that any blogger who keeps their identity hidden at some point becomes an international man of mystery. as we know from our austin powers movies, this status is a good thing. getting liz hurley and heather graham naked in consecutive films requires said international man of mystery status (but not for beyonce, though. she was a step down). for example, i told the bouncer at a very trendy nightclub recently that my name was on his guest list, just look for middle name danger. he laughed and took down the rope for my blonde and i without so much as a second glance.

like i said, a very good thing, indeed.

there are few requirements for attaining the level of international man of mystery status. one must be international. one must have mystery follow you around like a lost puppy. and one must be a man. now, the perks resultant of these simple but profound requirements are various and sundry.

this is a good thing about being global and being mysterious. the bad things would be maintaining these two aspects of the blogger life. being international means bringing the fans back again and again with stories of dangerous superhero missions in foreign lands. being mysterious means bringing in new fans with stories of bedding hot babes around the world.

my, what a quandary.

and for a while at least, this quandary was what i went to bed thinking, what i awoke thinking, hell sometimes even what i pondered while checking out girls asses at the mall. and then the realization hit me that, due to some major changes in my blogging form and fashion, my identity may not be so hidden much longer. consider the following:

- i have published actual photographs of my real face

- i have published actual photographs of women i have really slept with

these facts are cause for concern. surely, the real life me would be recognized by some other real life person reading this blog. surely that real life person would tell other real life people. or, alternately, someone would recognize a woman i have slept with. and with how the world tends to work, that someone would just happen to be someone i am currently sleeping with.

to put it lightly, that never goes over very well.

however, even with the above two facts, the status of 'international man of mystery' might still be within reach. basement dwellers and star wars geeks must have some model to aspire to, and all those drunk and hot girls that kanye west sings about must have a visualization of who they will be gold-digging on.

so even though i have uncovered my face to the world, this international man of mystery will still travel the world, fight crime and always, always get the gorgeous girl.

yeah baby.

so im sitting in front of my tv, watching monday night football, and i cant help but to think that the nice little juke jerious norwood put on some defender looked a lot like this girl i met in las vegas last weekend who likes to dance. a cute blonde thing, wearing a dress shinier than kanye's jesus piece, she drank cristal like it was her job. depending on who you ask, it actually is her job, which explains why she was two bottles ahead.

its cheaper than jaeger, she says.

ive got scotch, but i like jaeger too i say. how much does jaeger run.

she laughs. if you have to ask, stick to the scotch.

she dances by herself. her favorite spot is in front of a glass railing, which separates a raised vip balcony-type deal from the lay people on the dance floor below. all those people in the picture arent really trying to take pictures of her, theyre trying to time the air vents just right and steal a look through the glass up her dress. now those pics might make it onto a site like tmz or smoking gun or people magazine even, but that doesnt mean they amount to much. how much good are panties when theyre still on the girl? what really matters is not whats between her legs, but whats between her ears.

you know, like her hopes and aspirations.

shes five bottles deep and sharing now. she tells me about her upcoming trip to rwanda and how shes so excited and has to pack and needs some good music to listen to on the flight over. i laugh so hard a little fizz comes out of my nose.

why is that funny, she says.

i have a hard time imagining you amongst the people of rwanda. i say

well i am going, she says. why dont you believe me?

i turn and look at her with a grin.

because lying is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off, i say.

but its more fun she does.

shes smiles, really big like little girls do when you ask them how old they are.

i like to have fun, she says.