Just for shits and giggles I set up a "MySpace" sometme ago, before I had re-vamped my web site, so basically I would have a place to blog if I wanted.
I hadn't checked it in a while, so this morning I signed on and lo, and behold, I have all these twenty-something babes, most including photos of themselves, most very scantily clad, and they all want to be my friend.
Let's see: Belinda, Collen, Astrid, Elsa, Fanny, Lena, Judith, Gwendolyn, and Jacqueline ALL want to be MY friend! Wow! Who are all these young women interested in a married senior citizen? And why are they all so ehthusiastic about showing me most of their TATA's?
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Last night, with Kim out of town, I was getting pretty lonely and bored, so I wrote to all my would be girl friends (see above), slipped on my brand new latest addition to my football jersey collection (it's a Joe Montana) and then hopped in the Scion to see wassappenin in good old Eau Claire.
Went down to Phoenix Park to see if there was any music. Nope. Guess I should try reading the paper once in a while.
Being a dyed in the wool (what a great espression) Eau Claire Cavaliers fan, I then swung over to Carson Park to see if they were playing. I had worked Thursday night with my band at the game and it was great fun.
The Carson Park lot was almost full of cars and the ball park PA was blaring obnoxiously so I knew immediately that The Cavs must either be out of town or idle and that the very popular and talented Eau Claire Express was about to take the field.
Up until last night, I had pretty much boycotted the johnny-come-latelys, but as I say, I was bored, so I popped the big bucks for a reserved grandstand seat.
I lasted four innings. The Clear Channel jocks in the booth on the PA need to learn that less is more when it comes to between inning, between batter, chatter, and to stop pretending that the ball park PA is just an extension of their radio styled banter, complete with the pre-recorded funnies and too-loud, over used "I've heard this at NFL games" rock themes.
I'm sorry, but I just got the feeling that everyone there was just trying too hard to have fun. I know. It's me. I'm an old guy who really enjoys the calm, measured pace of Cavalier games, where the main objective of the fans is to watch the game, not see how much beer they can chug by the fifth inning.
The capper was when the announcers did a cutesy thing about drinking beer and then followed it with this:
"PLEASE DRINK RESPONSIBLE!"
Well, the old 8th Grade English teacher couldn't take that butchering of the language and I was out of there. As I made my way back to the Scion, I hear this young voice from high up in the stadium:
"Hey! Nice Montana jersey!"
How can I be so hip and so square?
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