Anyway, I don't want to talk about the therapy. The guys in the clubhouse are being nice about it, except for that asshole Sheffield, who kept asking me why I wanted to sleep with my mother and someone keeps leaving cigars in my locker. (I thought it was nice of them, or maybe one of the clubhouse attendants had a kid or something, but then Freud's picture is all over them and fucking Giambi started doubing over laughing when I started smoking them. I put it out. I figured it was one of those exploding cigars or something. I don't know why me smoking a damn cigar is that damn funny. Whatever. Children.)
So, what else? It's been a while since I updated. I've been so busy singlehandedly hauling my team out of the basement of the AL. Well, Tino helped, but that was probably the example I set for him. I hit some monster home runs the other say before some little bitch dared to plunk me. Don't you know you NEVER plunk America's Greatest Baseball Player. Thank God my teammates had my back. Eventually.
Oh! I saw Revenge of the Sith. Wow. What a great movie. I felt SO BAD for Anakin. Tempted to the Dark Side because he just wanted to be able to keep Padme near him forever and ever, and then it was joining the dark side that pushed her away? God, such a tragedy. I'll have to ask D. what he thought of it.
I think Mr. S. saw it, too, because he's been walking around trying to shoot electricity out of his fingernails. I don't have the heart to tell him that it would RUIN his facial peel if he succeeded. Just look what happened to that nice Chancellor Palpatine. Man. HE could use an RJ facial like no other.
Speaking of skin: GOD, was Natalie Portman's skin FLAWLESS in that movie or WHAT?
More later. I have to get something to eat. I've MISSED you, Dear Diary.