OK...

...I’ve been thinking. And it’s time to stop. I’m gonna suck on one of those Curiously Strong Altoid Tangerine Squirts. You know, I did find myself wondering from where they obtained that wonderful tangerine taste so I guess they really, really, are...Curiously Strange.

Of course, it could be that I myself am curiously strange but whatever the case may be, them candies are some good suckin’.

So, here I am, thinking at you again. OK, this is the inspiration that I just had...being around me is pretty much like reading the blog. Instead of writing it down, I actually say this shit. Really. Ask anyone who knows me. Another thought (and this was an odd one)...I AM THE BLOG. Yikes.

I navigated that thought into some other thought that gave me complete control of the situation so I am NOT the blog. But, I am LIKE the blog. I hate the word blog. I have now said it so many times that I not only hate the word but I also doubt it’s existence.

My web cam is pointing at me. Did you ever wonder if you were under constant surveillance by your web cam? I used to think that there was a secret camera in the shower head so I was always a good girl when I was in the bathtub. Well, almost always.

My mother hid her copy of the Sensuous Woman in my underwear drawer when I was 12. My father found it there. He looked at me and decided that I probably didn’t have anything to do with it and he took it to my mother and for some reason, I remember that it got thrown away. I guess my mother never finished reading it. But, what neither one of them, nor anyone else on the planet for that matter, ever knew was, I DID. Tee hee.

Well, there I go, thinking again. It’s these kind of thoughts that I should be staying away from bearing in mind the current state of affairs.

Baseball, baseball’s always a safe thought. So, the White Sox won the World Series. Big fucking deal. Call me when the Cubs win that damn thing. In the meantime, I’m just gonna have that special brand of sanguinity towards the Cubs and malevolence towards all others that we Cub fans are so famous for.

I’ll throw a cup of beer on the right fielder’s head. Hell, I DID throw a beer at Reggie Jackson. I missed. It landed in front of him and he turned around and looked up into the mezzanine but couldn’t decide which booing fan had launched the fermented hops and barley at him. I just wanted him to know that I saw him trap that damn ball and that he was “A BUM, REGGIE...YOU”RE A BUM!!!”

I’m sure he got the message.

Yeah, we are some good baseball fans, aren’t we? Who else would throw a home run ball back onto the field? We hate you all.

When I was a kid I used to sneak into Wrigley Field on the off days and watch them practice. I would wait for a truck to come in through the service entrance and run in along the side of him away from the guard. I never once got caught. I ran straight into the stands and sat on the dug out. Anyone who would have asked questions just assumed that I was with one of the players. I met a bunch of them. One day the Phillies were there instead. I was only 17 and Tug McGraw hit on me. I was so freaked out that I never did that again.

The day after that happened, I went to the game and the Cubs were winning 14 to 2 in the second inning. They ended up losing 15 to 16. I couldn’t believe it. Now I’m used to it. Whatever.

I’m still sucking on that same tangerine squirt. Isn’t that amazing? Well, I guess it’s really more curious than it is amazing. It's really my fault. I’ve been doing some rather passive sucking while I was writing this thing.

Obviously, a more vigorous sucking action is called for.

Now, see what I do? Shame on me. I’m really a nice girl, I just get a little playful at times. So, cut me some slack, I’m only kidding.