"Don’t get so trigger-happy that you forget about your balls.” – my dad, giving me some video game advice which is, I think, equally applicable to many a real-world situation.
It’s NOT just me department: David Hobbs, long-time professional race commentator, after watching Schumacher, Trulli and Sato out-start Juan Pablo Montoya, who managed to go from 2nd to 4th place in about two seconds: “Oh, NO! Juan Montoya will be whining even more now!”
BTW, it was the best of all possible race results: Ferrari one-two with Schumacher winning, and whiny-ass Juan Pablo was out in lap 46, when his brakes caught on fire in the pits. Yes, that sound you hear would, in fact, be me chortling.
I don’t care so much about the Stanley Cup playoffs now that my favorite teams have been eliminated but I do want whoever wins to not be the Flyers. My prediction is that it’s gonna be Tampa Bay, but I’m not supremely confident of that.
Sunday was Mothers’ Day, so I went down to hang out with the ‘rents. Yes, the ONE child who actually CARES about her mother was there, but apparently her OTHER CHILD found more important things to do. (I’m just kidding - Bo had to play all weekend with the Greenville Symphony and didn’t get back home until late last night; such are the trials of the professional musician.) I bought her some books: two by authors I know she likes (Anne Perry and Dean Koontz) and two that just looked interesting to me, one a mystery in which Jane Austen is the main character and an historical one as told by Mary Boleyn, Anne’s sister. She bought me (although it was officially from Finnovar and Sprocket) the new DVD about my idol, Ayrton Senna. If you ask me, I got the better end of that deal.
We grilled out for dinner, which was jerk chicken in a terrific spicy marinade, salad, rolls and saffron rice. Dad handled the grilling and I didn’t burn the rice. Yay, me!
It’s NOT just me department: David Hobbs, long-time professional race commentator, after watching Schumacher, Trulli and Sato out-start Juan Pablo Montoya, who managed to go from 2nd to 4th place in about two seconds: “Oh, NO! Juan Montoya will be whining even more now!”
BTW, it was the best of all possible race results: Ferrari one-two with Schumacher winning, and whiny-ass Juan Pablo was out in lap 46, when his brakes caught on fire in the pits. Yes, that sound you hear would, in fact, be me chortling.
I don’t care so much about the Stanley Cup playoffs now that my favorite teams have been eliminated but I do want whoever wins to not be the Flyers. My prediction is that it’s gonna be Tampa Bay, but I’m not supremely confident of that.
Sunday was Mothers’ Day, so I went down to hang out with the ‘rents. Yes, the ONE child who actually CARES about her mother was there, but apparently her OTHER CHILD found more important things to do. (I’m just kidding - Bo had to play all weekend with the Greenville Symphony and didn’t get back home until late last night; such are the trials of the professional musician.) I bought her some books: two by authors I know she likes (Anne Perry and Dean Koontz) and two that just looked interesting to me, one a mystery in which Jane Austen is the main character and an historical one as told by Mary Boleyn, Anne’s sister. She bought me (although it was officially from Finnovar and Sprocket) the new DVD about my idol, Ayrton Senna. If you ask me, I got the better end of that deal.
We grilled out for dinner, which was jerk chicken in a terrific spicy marinade, salad, rolls and saffron rice. Dad handled the grilling and I didn’t burn the rice. Yay, me!
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