My awesome pal Dean says that I must share the following: the Chicago Cubs and I are officially on a break. I don’t plan to see other teams, though I might flirt with the Dodgers and the Angels. I’m sorry, Cubs, but after a century without a World Series, it’s time to call a spade a LOSER.
I just give, and give, and give — believing in you long after common sense would dictate otherwise. This has gone on long enough. Get off your asses, get to the playoffs, and we’ll revisit our relationship. Until then, don’t call me. Unless I happen to be in Chicago, and you’ve got bleacher seats.
So this was entertaining to me:
As was this letter to Sir Richard Branson of Virgin Airways fame, complaining about the food en route from Mumbai to London. I can’t help but snicker every time I read this passage:
Only you open the present and it’s not in there. It’s your hamster Richard. It’s your hamster in the box and it’s not breathing. That’s how I felt when I peeled back the foil and saw this: [see image 3, above].
And speaking of peeling back the foil, awesome pal Adra had some AMAZING barbecue chicken quesadillas last night at South and I must have them one Sunday very soon. They were bursting with copious amounts of cheese, barbecue sauce, and MORE CHEESE. Like this pic, but double the queso:
I would even watch the Cubs if quesadillas like these are involved. Clearly, I can be bought.