Jered Weaver looks like that freshman/younger brother/pitcher from Dazed and Confused only with blonde hair instead of brown.
Jered Weaver can not complete eight innings of work.
The Twins are terrible on the road this year. Looks like we are getting closer to being non-contender. But with a dozen or so games left against Detroit and Cleveland, I'm still clinging onto hope.
Grandmas can be mean, especially if they were raised on the iron range. And yes, while it might not be kosher for others, it is acceptable sometimes to tell your own grandma "to F off."
Mother daughter relationships are always interesting, and sometimes feel like their own separate prementral cycle. No joke. The ups and downs, cravings and release, cramps and uncomfortableness. Yep, I'm going to put that phrase in my monthly vocab.
Friends. I'm the ultimate "haven't-talked-to-you-in-years-picked-up-where-we-left-off-friend." It's good to know there are others I can count on.
Tiger Woods is the best golfer ever, and I will never like golf, ever.
Sundays continue to remain the ultimate day of rest, or as I like to call it, don't get out of my pajamas all day and watch sports. Can't wait for football and lounging in my Gopher pants.
That tomorrow is Monday and I'm looking fwd: to a job with an office. Shared office, but I don't have to wear flair/flare (i wish i could wear tnt to work) or be anything but myself.
I feel like I'm missing something. As the best Pixie songs states: "where is my mind?"
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