Table of Contents
Why
haven't you updated this journal lately?
How
is softball going?
I
said, how is softball going?
Yes,
thank you. How are you and Beth
doing?
Do
you have any plans to do any other writing?
How
is your cat doing?
Where is this so-called
Credits Page?
Have
you always been a prick?
Paper
or plastic?
Do
you have anything important to say today?
Anything
else?
Painfully. Let’s see, my right ring finger hurts, my right ankle hurts, my left side hurts, my forehead hurts, and my hemorrhoids are flaring up. Speaking of flair (Ah Glenn, what kind of crap-ass transition was that?), a certain girl seems to think that I wear a wristband when I play because it looks cool. She thinks it’s just flair. But I disagree: It’s utilitarian. I use it to wipe away sweat. Or to scratch my crotch when no one’s looking.
Oh, sorry. Well, the Hawks are still in first, but only by a thread. We play our so-called rivals the Squids in our final two games to determine second place. The churchy team is also in second and also still wearing jaundice-colored jerseys. The Thursday’s team is pretty much done. Modell’s is in second or third place, I think. Most of the teams are winding down, but the Modell’s team is playing in a mid-summer league and the churchy team doesn’t finish up until January. Does that answer the question?
Yes. I’ve been looking to do some freelance articles for magazines and on-line publications and such, but I don’t have the time right now. Maybe in the winter when I’m not playing ball. They don’t pay very much and some don’t even pay cash (some only pay in a free subscription to their magazine or just give you the honor of a byline), but it’s a good way to get some things published before I write my huge best-selling children’s story (“The Oven And Other Fun Hiding Places”).
Cat? What cat? You mean the one that got tossed outside during a thunderstorm? Oh, wait. That was me at Beth’s house. The Crazy-Pissin’ Cat is fine. For now.
No, I used to be a
bastard, but that required too much effort and a certain lack of legally married
parents. Actually, I used to have
the He’s-Such-A-Nice-Guy Syndrome. And
since they say that nice guys finish last, I decided that last guys shouldn’t
nice. So I became a prick.
Plastic. If you use paper, she’s bound to get pregnant.
As usual, no. But since two of my peeps have been wanting me to mention them in the journal, let me throw them a bone: Matt and Barney. Matt and Barney. Matt and Barney. Matt and Barney. Kiss off. Happy now, guys?
Yeah. I’m looking for someone to do a Guest Journal Entry. Obviously, judging from my own entries, any kind of writing skill isn’t required. Of course, if I don’t like it I’m not going to post it. And I may edit it so much that you won’t even know that it’s your writing. But if you’re interested, email me something and I’ll be sure to make fun of it. Have a day……
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