Oh, Dear Diary, how I have MISSED YOU.
See, sometime a few weeks ago, I had some of the rookies over to 'the pad' to watch some movies- the powers that be finally realized that the world needed a James Dean box set, and you had better believe that occasion meant mojito night at Casa Rodriguez. God. I mean, have you seen East of Eden? The man just smolders. The eyes are just so incredibly expressive. God, Diary, just between you, me and the windows, I wish I could be that...that...cool.
There...was some baseball. Look, diary. I'm doing everything I can. I mean, we swept Pittsburgh! How great is that?! We swept a National League team. God, I'm so proud of this team.
Diary, though, I have to tell you a secret, and I'm going to be foulmouthed. I have to admit it, I've had one or two or maybe three Mai Tais, so I'm going to be honest. I hate this 'six games behind' nonsense. I mean, it's bad enough that we're behind the damn Red Sox, but the Orioles? Who do they have to make them so damn good? NOBODY, that's who. They don't have AMERICA'S GREATEST BALLPLAYER, do they?
I'm just so tired. I work so hard, I try and...oops! Spilled my drink. Hold on.
Anyway, I try, y'know? And I try so HARd, and it's like...we just can't break the plane. It's just like my relationship with the team, IO think. I try so very hard to get them to like me, burt it's Tino Tno Teeeeeno all the time and I try to sit down tnext to them inthe cafeteria and it;s 'Remember when we won the World Series four times?' and I sit there and eat my fruoit salad and it;s...WHOOPS! SPILLED IT AGAIN!
Yeah, so i sit down and its all like 'Hey, remember when we could mabage to beat the Red Sox in the AlCs and people idn;t get us stupid outs' and I;'m all like 'Right here, you guys!' and then Derek just won't talk to me and it's just...
God. I'm so lonely . And I am, suddne;y veby drunk. This is the last thime I let Wlss send me a liuqor baskt.
Wh won't derke CALL ME?