Had the opportunity to head to Arizona for like the upteenth-straight year to catch meaningless baseball games that mean so much. Saw four ballgames, ate a ton of fast food and raised hell on just about every toilet I encountered.
Some highlights:
-I saw Randy Winn at dinner my first night in town. He was with a woman (his wife?) who was carrying a baby. Two thoughts:
- The woman was not very hot. (The chick pictured, I think.) I probably would have banged her because I was in one of those moods where a doorknob looked appealing, but she certainly wasn't hot. Decent body, but not much else.
- I have no idea who the child belonged to but it probably wasn't either one of them. The kid had these bright blue eyes and both Winn and his boo-boo had dark eyes, a dominant gene. Maybe they see kidnapping as an investment opportunity.
-By the numbers:
1 caught foul ball
2 whole chickens eaten
7 other dishes/sandwiches I ate with chicken
2 burgers consumed
7 shits
0 successful shits
8 times I said, "Attaway Red Pop," who was fighting for a roster spot on the Mariners.
3 stadium visits (Surprise, Ariz., home to the Rangers and Royals, is very quaint.)
4 Hooters girls trying to sell, um, sex? That's what Hooters is, right?
-Was able to snag Josh Hamilton's autograph in exchange for his next crack fix.
-Here's all you need to know about the architecture of the Phoenix area: mega-complex movie theater, trendy restaurant A, trendy restaurant B, trendy restaurant C, spa/nail salon. These exist adjacent to every freeway exit.
-There are lots of hot women in this state. Like waaay hot. Girls I would do things to. The dead give away that they're not there for baseball is the stripper shoes, blonde highlights and fake cans.
-If you've ever doubted the existence of particular restaurants, come to the Phoenix metropolitan area. I saw a Sonic, Buffalo Wild Wings, Whataburger, In-N-Out and this place called McDonald's.
-If you get a chance, go check out the new Dodgers/White Sox park in Glendale. Very pretty, but in a National Park kind of way, not a baseball way. Based on the architecture -- very Frank Lloyd Wright esque -- you thought you might have been overlooking the Grand Canyon, not an exhibition baseball game.
Elsewhere in traveling news, I'll be in New York from Thursday to Monday. Don't worry, though. We'll have some WYD action on Friday -- another girl who might get a 100% yes vote!, JMC will be here on Monday and I'll be back Tuesday with cock jokes and bathroom anecdotes.
3 comments:
Given your deuce troubles, you must know to scout out the sneaky, unused bathroom in the basement of every hotel.
Now I know why Randy Winn always has a shit first half...instead of banging cocktail waitresses in the clubhouse during Spring training, he's got to wait until the regular season to get it out of his system. To be fair to him, at some point in life- right around the time when banging cocktail waitresses in the clubhouse is no longer feasible- looks become secondary to being around a bird you can stand.
When you get here, you'll find that The Apple is as dead as that fried chicken you've been eating. The upshot is that, if you see a bird out in the black dress on a Tuesday or Wednesday night, she really needs the cock. Naturally, you show up for Thursday night. Fear not...Thursday night is the new Tuesday night in these times.
If you are eating at the same place as Randy Winn and Herb Sendek, you may need to re-evaluate your life.
the baby's eyes will probably darken as it ages. Typical stuff.
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