Hey! Hey! Look at Me!

Tonite I went to a "celebrity" softball game. If you'll notice, I put quotes around the word "celebrity". The reason I did this, is that I thought that perhaps one of them could maybe qualify as a celebrity. But not really, even. Willie Pless, while being a rather well-known ex-CFLer, probably wouldn't come up as anything but a G or H-list athlete-celebrity. Sorry, Tony Gabriel, you don't really qualify.

It was a weird game, with the umpire/backcatcher/loudmouth Gabriel making simply awful comments the whole time. Who's idea was it to give him a microphone anyway? I mean, it's not that I didn't love his borderline racism, horrible jokes about dead people, and generally off-putting behaviour, but wasn't there, oh I don't know, ANYONE ELSE AVAILABLE TO COMMENTATE?

Big deal.

Me and my buddy Ben had fun.

My hat was too small.

I didn't get a free hot dog and pop like everybody else.

I paid for a corn dog. It burnt the ceiling of my mouth. Hey, there's something! Everyone calls it the roof of your mouth, but isn't ceiling more accurate? I know Marky T would be rolling over in his grave if I called it the roof of my mouth, and he's not even dead yet.

This has been a real pleasure. Sorry if it's not funny. It takes a little while to get the ol' blogpants to fit right again. Not to worry though, I'm not wearing any pants.

Mr. Daytona Splendor