Well, it was ugly. That statement is true for the Seahawks and for me and Valerie. We both realized it was time for rededicating ourselves to the fundamentals. The Seahawks and I, not Valerie. So, the Hawks got back to the run, and I got back to hitting on any girl I like, knowing the numbers would favor me sooner or later. Oh, sure, I struck out a few times before I made solid contact(baseball analogies work better for chick stories), but eventually I drove one out of the park. Is she crazy? Bat shit. Does that make for better sex? You better believe it. Do I ask too many rhetorical questions? Probably. Will I please stop? For now. In other news, my Dawgs got beat again. My fantasy football team got tuned up big time. In cooking news, I made a chorizo and cheese omelet that was fucking awesome. Sometimes you gotta break a few eggs to make an omelet. Actually every time. Without eggs it's something else entirely. Any who, in da weather, last night was a hella wind storm. Lightning and rain and power outages. Oh my! Today was a nice October day, sunny and 60*. Kind of like my betty situation, yesterday was crap, today sunny. Life is like that. AA zombies will tell you that's God in action. Bullshit. Brandensbaked will tell you that your brain has been fine tuned over millions of years to look for patterns, so patterns are what you see. Who is right? I guess there's no way to tell until you die, and there in lies the rub. At least with my theory you get to stay off of your knees. I suggest you think it through and make up your own fucking mind you God damned lemming. Peace and titties fools.
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