just so you know...

ONE AND A HALF GAMES BACK, bitches.

last night a dj saved my life...

yours truly will be making her first music-related foray on to the wrir airwaves tomorrow night...sunday 1-3am(or i guess that would be monday 1-3am but i'm one of those freaks who considers it whatever day it was until i go to bed. so selfish.) anyhow, i will be playing some records, shouting out my peeps...call in and harass me, why don't you. 804-649-9737.

also, i'm gonna be testing out dj names, so any suggestions would be appreciated. for now, perhaps i'll just call myself l.b.

oh, and i have to shout out bernie williams. TWO two-run homers on friday night. TWO. my man, still kickin' ass. take that, tim asshead mccarver! oh, and we're two games back, bitches. TWO GAMES back. this is why i don't want to hear any bullshit right now. there is nothing to say until we're in mid sept. at LEAST. at least. ok. i'm done.

strong work, as they say in alaska

my life has been defined by a bunch of things lately, some of them old hat, some of them brand spankin' new...let's see, heavy drinking, poor eating, lack of sleep in the old hat department...charles freakin' williams in the brand spankin' new column. who is charles williams, you ask? wouldn't you like to know... more on this, believe me. good things, people. good things.

this was my first week of trading off the production of wrir news with dustin on a bi-weekly basis, and i have to say, my mental health thanks him. it's been nice to not have to be dialed in all week long(it's also made it way too easy to slack the hell off, which i have been doing plenty of, but i get back to reality next week, so that's all good). and i still managed to have a bulk of the program assigned to me as i interviewed richmond city sheriff michelle mitchell this morning.

what else? oh, yes...i am mildly concerned that my beloved alec alibaba has been washed away in yet another hurricane, as she chooses to live smack dab in the center of the preferred path of most of these weather systems. alec? are you there? talk to me lady, i'm worried about you.

in other news, my canine comrade, killer cali, has been taken down by a rather horrific attack of fleas...as i write this she is writhing around on the floor in an attempt to stop the itching. poor baby. we shall be administering a flea bath presently.

so that's the deal. not much in there that anyone really needed to know, but this is my blog, bitches. MINE.

can i get a what what

i would just like to point out that A-Rod hit his 36th homerun last night in the Yanks win over Tampa Bay. i would also like to point out that it is a LEAGUE LEADING 36th homerun. i am only drawing your attention to this because small little stats such as this one tend to get lost in the dense fog of hatred that surrounds media coverage of the Yanks. i'm pretty much convinced that a-rod could hit his 57th, league leading, homerun, give the third base umpire cpr thereby saving his life, rescue an old lady from purse snatching thugs out by the D train, help deliver a baby in the third baseline box seats and perfectly execute a triple play all in the same game, and all the press outside of new york would be running stories on the 8 month anniversary of Curt Schilling's bloody sock episode. or something equally as irrelevant. although, i can't think of many things more irrelevant than Curt Schilling.

but no worries A-Rod, i've got you covered.

oh, and after the triple play? mccarver: "he was a little late on the release there...good thing ____ isn't the greatest of baserunners..."

what the *bloop*?!?

so, unfortunately, there was no way to simply link that crazy o.j. picture. it was just the espn homepage and they have since changed the headlines. but if you can, search for it...it's worth your time, believe me.

in other news, dave chappelle is the most brilliant man in all the land, and his show is the best thing to ever air on television. of this i am firmly convinced.

it's hot. just in case you were wondering. outside, that is.

what else...well, it looks like no hurricane for us, at least not yet. i'll have to wait to make some unsuspecting reporter wrir's version of jim cantore. all we have to do is slap a wrir sticker on a columbia all-weather jacket, put the mini disc in a plastic bag and send them out to brave the storm, and we'll be in business. unfortunately i wasn't in the news reporting line of work last september when we experienced tropical depression gaston...i could have gotten all sorts of great stuff, such as when the boys upstairs dressed themselves in trash bags and football helmets and headed out into the streets of the fan to "save richmond".

"m-a-r-s, mars, bitches."

somebody call security

ok, if this isn't the picture of a man stricken with a serious case of the ol' crazy eye, well...if i were that reporter, i would have requested that the juice don one of those hannibal lecter metal hockey mask things.

oj: crazy eye personified

eek. ok, so i finally get a day off, and have big plans, and what happens? i get sick. figures. so like me. luckily, i have ingested about 200 times my rda of vitamin c. go to work vitamins!!! i have a lot of drinking to do tomorrow.

life's a bitch and then you die, that's why we get high...

yeah, i'm using the nas. that doesn't mean that i don't hold the jay hova above all others. the nas/jay-z argument is so early 90's.

isn't it interesting, when you have those little tiny moments of recognition that your own perception of yourself isn't exactly absolute? obviously, perception is everything, but sometimes i find a wee dichotomy between what i think i am, and the way i represent that in an outward way. sometimes it's a big fucking dichotomy.

don't mind me. i'm overtired. way overtired. and i've been into some trees this evening. it's all you can do when your absolutely spent and the vinyl cartel is on wrir.

seriously, one of the best radio programs i've ever heard. consistently.

it's weird, i think i might be going legit. it's too soon to say for sure, but i'll keep you posted. on whatever the hell i'm talking about.