Mixed Bag

The NCAAMB championship game starts in a couple of hours.  Don't know whom to pick, and don't really care.  Should be a good game, though.

I watched San Francisco crush Milwaukee earlier today.  A big crowd for opening day in what looked like miserable weather, though it didn't rain.

The Giants hit back-to-back-to back home runs off some poor loser named Pena. He wasn't too happy with himself when the manager yanked him after he gave up a couple of more hits in the inning.

Three homers in a row doesn't happen a lot, so the game had that going for it.

Alas some games were rained out elsewhere.  Dammit, I say, they start the season too early and end it too late.  It's all about the money.  Google the Giants' payroll some time.  The numbers those guys earn is shocking and obscene.

Buster Posey hit a home run today, one of the trio.  Buster Posey is a very rich catcher.  As in $167 million in his latest contract.  BTW, the greatest Giant, Willie Mays, never came close to that figure, even in fifties and sixties dollars.

I like baseball in the summer best, and that can't get here soon enough by my reckoning.

My face hurts.  For some reason the neuralgia is a little worse today. It is very difficult to stay focused...what was I just saying?

I may have to try a Mary Jane therapy here shortly.  I don't normally have pot around and rarely indulge.  That may change.

I want the pills if I can get a medical card.  I've never been much of a pot smoker, but a friend once gave me a few of the pills and I liked those.

Very mellow.  I'm sort of running out of options with my condition. I'll try anything short of heroin.

I had some whiskey over the weekend.  The problems with whiskey come the next morning after the delusions of grandeur you have while drinking it.

Speaking of the money in baseball--here is John Oliver riffing on the absurd stuffiness of the Yankees:




TS