People,

So last night I had a plan. I was going to relax, play a little poker, help Ladyfriend Sarah study for the MCAT and then hit the sack around ten to get my well deserved "finally catch up on daylight savings time sleep."

So around 9:45, as I was preparing to call it a night, I saw that the red sox game was in the ninth inning. And of course I then said to myself "oh, this is great, let's watch the last few minutes of the game and then go to sleep."

God damn the red sox. God damn them straight to hell.

The game goes another two hours until it ends in the bottom of the 13th with the winning run being WALKED!?!?!?! home by future hall-of-famer Bobby Jones. There hasn't been a pitching implosion like that since Texas Mcat got so drunk on teaparty cocktails (one part old-ass Smirnoff vodka from the basement, one part Sprite Tropical Remix, one part ice in a child's tea set) that he threw like three hundred straight walks in wiffle ball last summer. Arg.

So now I'm at work, unrested, agitated and cranky. I say boo.