Well, happy anniversary to us. Today marks the start of the DNC in Boston, so our plans of going into the city to the restaurant at which Joe proposed are pretty much down the drain. Instead, we'll settle on a nice romantic dinner on the south shore, followed by a little bit of TLC at home. 1 year. Yay, us!
C'mon...this is funny stuff:
Dear Roger Clemens,
Let me offer my hearty congratulations on starting the All-Star Game. Wow, that is really terrific. I'd like to note, however, that I hate you.
Also: You are fat. They say you've got this hard-core training regimen, with calisthenics and whatnot. I'm not seeing it. You're wicked fat.
Oh, perhaps that was uncalled for. You know what else was uncalled for? Sucking, every time it mattered. You ruined my childhood, fatty. Because the trauma you put me through as a young, impressionable Red Sox fan has stunted my emotional growth, I revert to a juvenile mind-set whenever I see you. Like repeatedly calling you fat...
I'd like to add that it's not just me. Nobody likes you. It's just a matter of degree -- of how much we hate you. Personally, I measure my hate in terms of how severely I want you to be injured. Like, I guess I wouldn't want to see you crippled for life, so you couldn't walk anymore. But I really wouldn't mind if you pulled your groin and missed five starts. That's the over-under on my hate...
Hey, don't think I'm done with you, Clemens. What about this: Not only do you have no fans, you have no team. You don't travel with the Astros unless you have to, and then you go all by yourself. What's with that? If you could, I'm certain you'd hire yourself out, start by start, to the highest bidder. You baseball whore. Maybe we should just play the All-Star Game at your house, in your backyard. Would that be more convenient, chump?
In conclusion, I really, really hate you.
Sincerely,
A Baseball Fan
The big conspiracy of the day: Mike Piazza tipped batters off to Clemens's pitches last night in an act of sweet revenge, thus letting Clemens get battered in the All Star game, in front of his hometown crowd. Rumor also has it that Piazza was smiling widly underneath his catcher's mask.
Now, I don't really believe this theory. But, if true, I can't help but want to buy Piazza a beer.
However, I tend to believe that Clemens did himself in the old-fashioned way. By choking.
A recent IM exchange:
K: What type of muffin would you be and how would you escape if someone tried to eat you?
Me: I would be an English muffin because no one would try to eat me since they'd know I would fight valiantly, unlike a limp piece of French toast.
I went with my husband and our friend Paul recently to see Michael Moore's Fahrenheit 9/11. Knowing how relentless Paul and I can be, Joe made us promise not to speak during the movie...we had to wait until the credits rolled to offer any and all commentary. Fair enough. So we watched and we waited.
Now until we saw this movie, my husband was, I'm pretty ashamed to say, a Bush supporter. I defend this only by saying that there are mitigating circumstances surrounding his "support" of Bush. Namely, his family. Joe's family are Catholics and they are Republicans, at least the majority of them. I think Joe's support of the right wing merely stems from some residual Catholic guilt he feels. Just my opinion, but it's what I've come to believe. I truly believe that Joe just says he likes Bush becuase that's what he should say. When you press him for a reason, he can't give one...which is understandalbe; I mean, how could one actually defend Bush's atrocities actions? Joe, Paul, and I have debated on many occasions the reasons to detest Bush and his Administration, but until this movie Joe never really wavered. That would have worried me had he been a registered voter, but fortunately my husband is a luke-warm Bush supporter, and he doesn't hate Kerry enough to motivate himself to get off his ass and get down to town hall to register.
Anyway. Our debates have always been friendly, meant only to inform and educate each other. We tread lightly because the topic is explosive and there are times and places to be passionate. I think one reason Joe supports Bush is because he feels an obligation to do so because his nephew Tony is serving in the Marines. He has served in Iraq and may well go back. My respect and love for Tony is undying. Perhaps Joe equates hating Bush and hating this war we're embroiled in with hating the military. Nothing could be further from the truth. No, I don't think we should be there, and I think Bush lead us there under false pretenses. But those men and women serving our country have nothing but my utmost respect. Plain and simple. I'm tired of the body count rising. That's all.
OK, I'm going off on a tangent. Back to the movie. We watched in silent horror as Moore described the incestuous relationship the Bush's (and others) have with the Saudis. The audience gasped on more than one occasion as Moore in effect listed the ways Bush has screwed this country. And when the credits rolled, Paul and I looked at Joe and knew something had sunk in.
I've heard it argued that Moore's film is biased and that he has an agenda. Well, sure. Moore's agenda is the truth. And, yes, it's biased and it aims to make Bush look his worst...but Moore didn't need to do much editing to achieve that particular goal. I found the movie to be typically Michael Moore: partisan, hilarious, angry, and ultimately thought-provoking.
I'm not going to review the movie in full detail here because I have neither the time nor the inclination to do so right now. Suffice to say, I believe every American should see this movie. And those who are going to vote need to see it twice.