Spent about four hours watching the Twins lose in extra innings. Memo to Byron Buxton: Generally speaking, with two out, you're good at second base. Let the guy tagging up a base ahead of you score. If the next guy gets a hit, you'll score from second as easily as from third. Make sense?
Anyway, that's what I say after the centerfielder makes a perfect throw to nail you a half second before Schoop crossed home plate with what would have been the winning run. Truth is, if I could run like you, I'd tag up and move every time.
Grocery shopping at the Uptown Cub at midnight last night. Surprisingly busy. One of Minneapolis's finest in full uniform standing guard at the front of the store. From what I could tell, it's his job to tell shoppers that they have to leave their roaches and clips in the car. I got home and discovered that I'd bought a tub of reduced fat vanilla ice cream. This would have been extremely disappointing if I hadn't been a little drunk, which may also account for my having dropped my guard in the frozen food aisle. I'm not perfect either, Byron.
Someone on Twitter had a better experience at the grocery store today. Overheard in the produce section:
Him: I wasn't aware there was a World's Cup for chicks.
Her: Speak up, honey. Then everyone will know what a dick you are.
The team from the Netherlands should have to go to the White House for some congealed Wendy's. Our best player has made it pretty clear that she ain't fucking going.
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