Q: What do you call 25 overpaid professionals watching the World Series?
A: The New York Yankees

Thus ends the curse of the Bambino.

I don't really have any particular love for the BoSox, but I was pulling for my grandfather's sake. The last time the Sox won the Series was in 1918, and he was born in 1919. That makes him older than the pope.

I called him after game two just to chat and he told me a little story. In 1946 he graduated Dental school, but he and two other guys in his graduating class are missing from the class picture because they went into Boston to watch the Sox lose the series to St. Louis. (Side note: their tickets cost $0.50).

And so 58 years later he gets the ending he was hoping for. :-)

What else is new... well here's a conversation I had yesterday that came out of no where: I was in one of my teammates offices helping her debug something when...

Her:Would you like a Duck Heart?
Me:A What?
Her:A Duck Heart.
(Holds up a small individually wrapped something)
Me:Is that like some kind of candy with a funny name?
Her:No its a duck heart.
Me:What does it taste like?
Her:Meat.
Me:Oh... is it tough?
Her:No, but its chewey.
Me:Well... OK.

So in the interest of being groovy (and because I like to think I'll try anything within reason once) I ate a duck heart. It was like... have you ever bitten into a superball? One of those little rubber bouncy balls? It was a texture like that... only much saltier.

All in all I equate it to the time I tried chicken feet: it wasn't that bad, but it certainly wasn't that good. So now that I've tried one I'll be able to politely decline the next one that's offered to me without feeling like an uncultured fool.

President Scroob: "Do something."
Helmet: "Do something!"
Sanders: "DO SOMETHING!"
Spaceballs

Wow, just under a month. Well done there.

Plenty has happened, and quite a bit of it merits telling, but I've developed a pretty accute case of Lazy Bastard Syndrome (LBS) and I've been learning to cope.

The all-city scavenger hunt that culmiated in a cake-eating contest probably deserves a post, but not today. Although I can tell you that we got to dog-sit Dan Savage's (of Savage Love) little gay dog. We only know its gay because he told us.

For now I'll just (briefly) mention that I had the most wonderful weekend. Cara and I did a historic re-enactment of the famous Gwen, Heather, and Scott Orcas Island trip. The two biggest differences were that we opted to stay in a beautifully furnished little cabin instead of a weird hippy dome tent and we didn't bother will all that tedious outdoorsy stuff. Nope a whole weekend of straigh slackin' (Hey, living with LBS ain't easy)