(no subject)

Three things just happened in very quick succession.

* I agreed to go in to Cumby's on Monday. I was not looking forward to three solid days of nothing to do, so this works for me, and apparently things kind of imploded there after I left. Someone stopped showing up and finally got her ass fired (two months too late if you ask, oh, EVERYONE who works there), and someone else got a better job and is leaving (good for her! She has three kids and is pregnant, so she definitely needs this and I am really happy for her).

* The news came out about Jon Lester. Lymphoma. Cancer. I don't even know what to say about that. He's just a kid. (For those who don't follow baseball, Jon's a rookie pitcher for the Red Sox. He was with the Sea Dogs, our local minor league team, last year, and I saw him pitch his first professional complete game.) The good news is, it's treatable.

* And as I reeled from that, I got a shipping notification for a BPAL order. This would normally be cause for great excitement and would make the day unusual all on its own.

God, and as I was writing about Jon Lester, the radio started playing the Snakes on a Plane song, and I just saw SoaP a couple days ago, so I started laughing and crying at once. I don't even know, man, just a bunch of weird.

(no subject)

So I finish watching the Tigers wreck the Angels and I click over to my friendslist and find oh my god Papelbon is injured now!? It is official. With the millions of injuries and the depressing trades and the cancer, the Red Sox are having a far, far worse August/September than the '05 Tigers did. That is a difficult accomplishment and not one to strive for. Man. This is sort of passing beyond blackly amusing into the realm of the pathetic, and I mean that in the original sense of the word. Well. At least they won tonight?

Awwwww Trupe is interviewing Kyle Snyder. He's all nervous and stuttery. *pets him*