while in the waiting area, i wrote 8 poems. i typed them up once we got back home. thankfully, i had most of them typed up before it started pouring. i really liked a few of the poems.
the New York Yankees at least scored yesterday. and they even took the lead in the 9th. but, when you overuse your bullpen all season long, it will come back to haunt you at the end. and sure enough... the Yankees lost yesterday 4-3. they will try to avoid the four game sweep later tonight. thankfully, this season will be over soon.
WWE Clash of Champions last night was almost just a longer version of Monday Night Raw. a few of the matches were really good, but nothing jumped out as holy shit, that was great. i'm sure tonight will just be more of the same.
the season finale of Power was fucking great. they have done a fabulous job each season with the finale. i can't wait to see what happens in 2017. the season finale of Ballers was hilarious. The Strain was great as usual last night. Masters of Sex was really good. and finally, Last Week Tonight was brilliant as usual:
i'm trailing in both of my fantasy league games. i really need Drew Brees to have a monster night tonight for me to even really have a chance.
enjoy some music:
and now some of this and that:
on the DVR tonight will be The Voice, Gotham and The Big Bang Theory. i will be flipping between Monday Night Raw and the New Orleans Saints vs. Atlanta Falcons tonight. and hopefully avoiding the fucking debate completely.
finally, the weather actually is starting to feel like fall. there is actually some crisp to the wind. i was able to finally turn off the air conditioning and open some windows.
if i'm not too exhausted tomorrow, i will be sending out some poems.
i hope everyone had a great weekend.
be well. be creative. be cool. be quick to send me CASH, panties, hate mail, love letters, broken promises and dirty pennies from heaven.
peace and chicken grease...
Grouplove - Welcome to Your Life
Taj Mahal - That's How Strong My Love Is
The Cure - Lullaby
John Mayer - Slow Dancing in a Burning Room
"Immature poets imitate; mature poets steal." - T.S. Eliot
and your whatever the fuck i wanted you to see video of the day: