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Monday, August 8, 2016

Just said "good luck" to another human and I don't really know why it felt so out of context even as I was saying it.
08.08.16 | Monday | 10:59:45 AM EST | Just added to the fake song database:

"Nude Dawn"
the Wilted Wilted West ...
IN ADDITION TO MY AWARD-WINNING ANTI-GLUTEN PARODY LOGO T-SHIRT IDEA "DON'T BREAD ON ME" (LEFT), I WILL BE DEVELOPING A NEW DESIGN BASED ON THE SLOGAN "ESCHEW THE GLU" AS PART OF MY ATTEMPT TO 'CORNER THE MARKET' ON ANTI-GLUTEN MERCHANDISE + BRANDING AND/OR END HUMAN CONSUMPTION OF GLUTEN (WHICH, I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW, IS PART OF A GREATER SECRET PLOY TO DRIVE DOWN THE PRICE OF GLUTEN-RICH PRODUCTS SO I CAN SAVE SOME DOUGH BECAUSE I LOVE THAT GLOOT. ALL DAY LONG WITH THE GLOOT. GLOOT GLOOT!)
I'm just gonna leave this image (a desktop screengrab) as a teaser for something coming in 2017 without any other context. Thanks for reading my blog.
I did a pod about re AROD, offering my hot takes on the retirement decision/Sunday's press conference, which was really just another weird moment in a career full of weird moments. But I don't think I adequately portrayed my appreciation for this weirdness. In so many ways, he was the anti-Jeter: a player who was not hyper-savvy when it came to handling the media and PR, and was in fact so woefully bad at those things that they overshadowed the fact that he was one of the best ten humans to play a game 10,000s of humans have been playing professionally for over 150 years. AROD was a WEIRDO. He kissed himself in the mirror. Centaur painting above the bed. Jeter sleepovers (which, btw, WEIRD JETER). His thing for female bodybuilders. Cousin Yuri. Peeing on Cousin Yuri's floor. The Boston slap play. It goes on and on. Feel free to google any of that stuff. The point is that AROD was my favorite baseball player and I'm a little bit sad right now. Hopefully Friday night against the Rays––which is a weird way to end things––will be, well, one last flurry of weirdness. And four homers to get to 700.