Wrapped Up Like A Douche

Coulda, Shoulda, Oughta
Does everyone remember everything I said about wanting the baseball season to linger on as long as possible, with every playoff series lasting seven games, preferably extra innings, etc.? Well... I’m over it. Apparently some dudes from New York and some other dudes from Florida are locked in heated battle, epic showdowns and yada yada (as they say in the Bible), but not even the guys on ESPN can bring themselves to be excited about it. (Jim Caple tosses any semblance of journalistic impartiality to the wind to argue what everybody knows—that this isn’t the World Series we deserved.) I realize now that I simply get no pleasure whatsoever from watching the Yankees play, just as I get no pleasure from watching George Bush negotiate with the North Koreans or from watching my luscious coed neighbors bathe each other. As Jayson Blair would say, it’s just so much sound and fury signifying nothing.

Meanwhile, in the Parallel Universe Series, the Cubs and Red Sox, having been fortuitously relieved of their brilliant yet inexplicably brain-dead-when-it-counts managers in dual freak lighting strikes, are locked in the heated battle of an epic showdown. The Cubbies have managed to eke out two wins at Wrigley (in front of frenzied crowds featuring such Chicago luminaries as Mayor Daley, Mayor Oprah, Sausage King Abe Froman, the Blues Brothers, the re-animated singing remains of Harry Caray, and such stars of the recent hit movie Chicago as that Hot Chick who’s married to that guy from Romancing the Stone and that Buddhist Guy who put the you-know-what up his hoo-hah), both in extra-innings and dramatic fashion. But the Red Sox are expecting to be energized by their return to the adoring denizens of Fenway Park, scene of their impressive come-from-behind ALCS win (capped by two impressive shutout innings from the bullpen in relief of the clearly spent Pedro Martinez) over the Yankees, who went home to cry like little children in front of their burning piles of money.

Stay tuned to WULAD for updates on the World Series we wish we had!

WULAD World Wire
The sex police are really getting out of hand. Now a judge can't even "bang the gavel" in his own courtroom? I expected more from you, France!

Dinette Vignettes, vol. cxvii
Belle, while watching MTV last night: “Wow, he was born in 1954—he’s young. I mean old.”