leading a retahded symphony

The job interview went ok. The place was downtown. Man, It's a little strange being surrounded by all these well-dressed people, though I think I was looking pretty dapper myself in an electric blue shirt and dark blazer. (One thing I learned from business travel is that you can get away without a tie if you have a good shirt and blazer or suitjacket.)

Exchange of the Moment
"Women think they know by the way, which always astonishes me... women will always say 'uh, we look at guys sexually too.'"
"Well uh, they do, they do..."
"Women have NO IDEA."
"They have no clue whatsoever. It's like the difference between shooting a bullet and throwing it. If women had any idea, even for a second, of how we really looked at them, they would never stop slapping us."
Larry Miller and Jonathan Katz, on "Dr. Katz Professional Therapist".
I really dig that lowkey, goofy humor, like a more tranquil Steve Martin

Teaser of the Moment
--This is likely the penultimate photo of my middle school years. Questions abound! Why the brooding pose? Why the half-tint glasses? And what's the print on that shirt? What's a Star Hop? And for the love of pete, what could the 'ultimate' photo possibly then be?
Stay tuned!

Football of the Moment
Its great that I can have a discussion in Dublin about the fortunes of the Sox, they're universal, the fan base is worldwide. The Celtics are the Celtics. The Bruins are part of the original six. But the Pats are ours. Nobody gave a rats arse about these guys before and truth be told once this run is over no one from Texas or California or Pennsylvania ever will again. But if you've sat in Schaefer/Sullivan/Foxboro and had to wonder whether you were doing your reproductive system permanent harm by sitting on those god awful, freezing cold aluminum bleachers, watching Tony Eason hitch up his skirt, the championships seem to have a surreal quality to them. It's like we're not only beating these other teams, we're putting one over on them.
Makes for some great reading, especially the first five pages. What a mess this franchise has been.

If you're half as amused by townie accents, extended belches, lowbrow humor, foul language, and the love of the Patriots as I am Fitzy's Wicked Pissah Webcast 1/19/07 is for you. ("Come on, Payton Mannin', 'Sir Chokes-a-lot'? This guy drives me f***ing nuts! What's with all the handsignals and doodads at the line of scrimmage? It looks like you're leading a retahded symphony!")