And it's not because of all the hairplug jokes, or because his wife thinks he's too stupid to mix canned baby food and oatmeal together for their daughter.
It's because his beloved Sox had a meltdown over the past four days and were swept by my beloved Yankees.
It was a thing of beauty.
Better luck with the mixing, Ben.
And feel free to spend October editing Gone, Baby, Gone. Or take Jennifer and Violet on a trip out of the country.
Your Sox are DONE. The Babe said so.
Ahem.
You know when you are looking forward to something, but you have to get through a few shitty days before you get to the fun stuff? Well, that is this week. I really hope the next four days at work don't send me the few inches I need to fall completely over the edge.
I have an Emmy bleacher seat outfit to plan! Don't bother me with a client market analysis, or reports that need a Fed Ex label, when I have yet to figure out how best to get Jason Bateman's attention!
Sure, I could just yell, "I've loved you since Silver Spoons!" The Bateman deserves more, though.
Hey, if anyone is watching the show Saved on TBS, please tell me why you are. MY only reason is Tom Everett Scott. I'm trying to find out if there are more. It's really not a good show, and his ex-girlfriend is horribly miscast. But, it's the summer, and since How To Get the Guy was unceremoniously taken off the air, my Monday nights are free.
I guess I could always write Affleck a condolence card.
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