Nothing to do with anything

After fulfilling my duties as husband, and taking care of a wife who literally broke herself by coughing (she's now so full of opiates that I couldn't injure her if I tried...and lord knows I have tried my best), I was actually able to get out and play a little golf. Knocked home a birdie on 18, and walked way with a flat 90.

Not bad for the first round of the season, but to be fair, the course really played to my strengths. Which is to say it had wide open fairways, and everything curved to the right. Plus I was golfing alone, so my goals were as follows: 1) Play golf.

Normally, when golfing with others, my priorities skew a bit more towards: 1) Drink until sick. 2) Swing clubs aimlessly at white orbs on ground. 3) Fall out of moving cart.


Also, a man from Ohio named Fitzgerald Toussaint has just committed to Michigan. That's pretty great, and continues the fine tradition of having at least one person on the roster who has a funny name. While he is clearly no Mister Simpson (God, what an amazing name), he and Junior Hemingway are going to have to battle it out next year for the "First Annual Coco Crisp/Milton Bradley Award for Most Hilariously Illogical Name in Sports."

Yes, that's right...the Faccmbamhins. A star studded event that will be held in my basement, emceed by yours truly, and sponsored by the case of Labatts that I will drink alone while playing Wii and watching old episodes of Mythbusters.

Tickets and seating space are going fast, so act soon!


Finally: