ok, gotta wait...baseball ain't even close. broke my own rules 2night and the Posies came out and sang w/me...yeah...mike stands and guitars to the floor. can't tell u why...its a falafel thing. this is not a football blog 2nite...its baseball...whoa nelly. my gramps (83 yrs young) has his Sox in, going gainst the Stros...yahoo. 2 teams w/a penchant fer losin' the biggies, but one of em has to win. how cool is that? oh, it all figures in w/the bolts goin' to bowl and all...and winning. wish i could be torn, but can't be...WHITE SOX.
I grew up rooting for the Chargers and i'm 44 now. deprivation sucks, but it is all a game. can't write the philly pre...cuz my cats are trippin and my voice is shot. it's 2am and i'm done. philly, been there, walked from d town to the soup bowl b4 its demise. i et n awesome p hilly cheesesteak, thats how i chose to spell it, tay? i was tipsy (twas 10 yrs ago) and took the lib bell tour. The hallway. everone had gone and the tour gentleman noticed we were standing around, unimpressed as peeps left. he asked us if we wanted to "touch it". this is the truth and i ain't spicolli from fast times. stepped past the yellow and the velvet rope, looked at all those braces and screws...this was jagermeister induced ya'll. i stroked the bell...pulled back my fist...and pounded that bell 3 times! it didn't ring, it was a thick mofo! i got kicked out peacefully and the dude security guy freaked. almost like the MOMA when my nose touched Van Gogh's self poratrait. but, these things happen for a reason. Whether sooner, or later. I had a great time in Philly, continued my journey to a Phils game...a guy named Tony Longmire hit an HR in the 9nth to win it in dramatic fashion. but the phils sucked in 95.
and the eagles have their hands full this sunday with the chargers. what do i say cept does this have a relation to anything i've typed so far? hell no and yes. i'm a street vendor...i make it my purpose to see the best...and worst every city has to offer. all philadelphians were cool to me on that day, my pilgrimage. i had a "can we dance with ur dates" moment that most whitey's would hate, but it turned into a party, no fear on either parties part. just a little awkard at 1st. i'm a bit buzzed now no doubt. but i remember philly fondly.
the beat is...my memories don't count. its 10 yrs later and all has changed. its the eaglets against my bolts. i'm confident but i'm just an ass sitter critic! fear the electricity cuz it plugs in wherever it goes. i never call games or scores...or gamble. cuz the line steals, thats why it is. i just care about W's or L's, screw fantasy anything unless Eva whatshername is crawling into my bed with a winning powerball ticket.
knew i'd go to foooo ball "sooner or later "(great English Beat song, by the by) but in honor of Bob...I end with...Southside Chi, who fought n died in a real war, the BIG WW II. Bob...we'll get em. Keep all those ugly stories from the war for another day. The GO GO SOX is back. Bob, we know life ain't purr fect...but this as is good as it gets! this ain't 1959, and thanx fer takin care o my mom. she won't make u clean the leaves for weeks baybee. sit on ur ass...i'll adjust the rabbit ears!!!
No comments:
Post a Comment