Dear. Holy. Lord.


(Saturn Balls Spins a gem.)

So yesterday’s game happened while I was at work. Yes, I still have a job. So I caught it on the 7pm NESN replay. Bless you, NESN. Bless your wacky little hearts.

I’d break it down for you all but frankly, Beth was there while we watched the replay and Beth does a much better job of it. So I’m going to refer y’all right on over to her post.

I’ll wait.

Done? Okay, I feel it is also important to note that this *gestures below* is what happens when Amy and I get together with some citrus colored taffeta, false eyelashes and copious amounts of alcohol. Honestly, I don’t know why I’m sharing these with you people other than the fact that I must have some deep-rooted desire to be blackmailed if I ever decide to run for public office (not likely). Plus, all you guys proposing to us, this is what you’re getting yourselves into.

The faces behind the Red Sox Catcher Blood Feud.

Your vamping bloggers.

You. Do. Not. Mess. With. Butch.

I have no explanation for this.

Or this.

Or frankly, this.

I’m currently sleep-deprived and have taken to injecting caffeine directly into my bloodstream. This time, it’s Sam’s fault. It should be noted that I think I burst a lung last night in an attempt to keep myself from laughing so loudly, I’d wake up Amy’s roommates. You want to know what that’s all about, you’ll have to ask Sam.

Something tells me I’m going to go to post tomorrow and be utterly suprised and somewhat horrified that I shared this will all of you.

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