The Big DumpTruck

I was just reading Surviving Grady, and Red was talking about Youk's shiner. He said this happened because of a "warm-up toss from Scenic Lowell that got away".

Scenic Lowell. I am so stealing that. I will have to use that the next time Mike Lowell and I are in Johnny Rockets cleaning up gumballs.

Labels: baseball, Mike Lowell

This is the poem I got for Mother's day this year. I did not expect a poem, but I was very happy to get it. It was written on a piece of foamy stuff with a magnet on the back so I can keep it on the fridge.

I started to write my mom a poem but it was not as good as this one so I just gave up altogether. I can honestly say that nobody has ever, ever, written me a better poem than this one, and I doubt they ever will.

My Mother's Day Poem, by Junior

My mom appreciates Mike Lowell
But I hope I make her complete
Without me there could be a hole
My mom appreciates Mike Lowell

We work together like some moles
But she also makes my heart beat
My mom appreciates Mike Lowell
But I hope I make her complete.

Labels: junior, love, Mike Lowell, poetry, Red_Sox

Here is the part of the website where I try to entertain you by making up a story and trying to convince you it's absolutely true. Well, I will place two true "truthiness nuggets" in the story, and your job will be to try to determine which those are.

I was eating lunch at Johnny Rockets at the Burlington Mall when I realized I'd left my wallet in the car. This was not cool because, well, Mrs. Rocket was staring at me with a bill in her hand and I couldn't very well tell her that I did not have any money. I scanned the restaurant to see if I knew anybody, and was shocked and amazed to see Mike Lowell eating a #12 with his family. It turns out Mike is a big fan of the "red red sauce" that they put on the #12, and he often eats there four or five times a week. Now me, if I was a big famous sports star, I would ask if they could hook me up with a bottle of the stuff, but maybe he just enjoys spending quality time at the mall. You never know.
But you thought I was going to ask Mike if he could cover my bill for me, right? Wrong. I could not do that. But what I could do is ask Mike if he was interested in buying my watch from me. It's a Timex Ironman Triathlon watch with Indiglo, so you can tell what time it is in the dark. I told him I'd sell it to him for $19.65, which covered my bill plus a hearty 10% tip. (Only 10% because Mrs. Rockets forgot to bring me my fries and she forced me to do the ketchup all by myself instead of doing the first pour for me. Beeatch.
Mike inspected the watch for wear and tear and told me he'd give me a full twenty for it, which was fantastic. I didn't want to give Mrs. Rockets the extra 35 cents, but I felt it would be awkward to ask her for it. But then, Mike Lowell paid for the watch using giant handfuls of change. I'm not even sure how he got all that change into his pockets. He may have been carrying it in some sort of man bag. And you should totally not make fun of him for carrying a man bag because on him it would look very very cool, unless it had some kind of Hello Kitty design on it. I'm not saying he's partial to Hello Kitty, but really, could you blame the man? It's so damned cute!
So I handed Mrs. Rockets the twenty, and thanked her for a lovely meal. On the way out of the restaurant I noticed they had a giant gumball machine. I love gumballs, and couldn't believe I'd just tossed away that extra thirty five cents. All I needed for a gumball was twenty five cents, you see. So I made eye contact with Mike Lowell again and nodded toward the gumball machine. He got up from his table and came over to me, and used his manly baseball muscles to push over the huge gumball machine like it was so many Q-Tips. The ball on top shattered, and hundreds of gumballs flooded the entryway to Johnny Rockets. I gave Mike Lowell and thankful nod and as I grabbed a handful of gumballs, careful to avoid the ones with glass in them, I whispered "until next time."

Labels: fun, Mike Lowell, Red_Sox, restaurants

Last night I passed the 25k mark. Now I only have to hit 50k before the clock strikes midnight and November turns into December. I think maybe I can do it. I had a really good rush of pointless prose last night, so that's nice.

Mike Lowell is staying in Boston, so you'll have to excuse me if I'm giddy for a few. He's my favorite player (Papi has a special place in my heart forever, but Mike Lowell is my boyfriend). In fact, that's how I refer to him. It's always "My boyfriend Mike Lowell." I saw a photo of my boyfriend Mike Lowell down at Disney the other day. I was pretty sad that he didn't do that the day after they won the World Series, but I would never question my boyfriend Mike Lowell's decisions.

Let's see, what else is going on? Oh, I was going to ask if anyone here owned one of those digital photo frames, and if you do, do you like it and would you recommend it? I am trying to write a Christmas list for Santa, you see, and I want one of those but I don't want Santa to spend a lot of money on it. It's not like I can't just pull photos up on my computer if I really need to see them. I just like the idea of having a photo frame on my desk so that I can just swap out the pictures with the weather.

Speaking of which, we're on snow alert. We may get [breathlessly] a snowflake or two. Junior is doing the happy 4th Grade dance. I tried to explain that the snow isn't going to stick, and that we don't have to track down his boots just yet. But damn, I had better track down his boots. I wonder if they still fit? Doubt it.

(Christine and Nicholle, you pay attention, okay? Nothing you buy will ever fit a whole year later, and you can't buy stuff on sale at the end of the season because you don't know what size they will be when it's time to wear it. This is the most ANNOYING thing about kids. They just outgrow stuff constantly. Sometimes, within days of you buying it, I kid you not. Always make sure you have at least ONE pair of shorts or one sweater that's a size larger than your kid currently wears because it's a sad day when you wake up and it's 90 degrees and they suddenly don't have any shorts to wear to camp. Ahem.)

Labels: clothing, junior, kids, Mike Lowell, nanowrimo, Red_Sox

It's hard to live an exciting life. First people want you to pose on a box of Kraft Mac and Cheese, then they expect you to attend ribbon cutting and key to the city ceremonies. It's all so much work. I live a modest life. I get up in the morning, and Mike Lowell brings me bacon and eggs in bed (over medium, bacon extra crispy but not burnt). After I eat he dabs at my lips with a linen napkin and tells me he's going to go get 4 hits for me in the game and I tell him "you do that, babycakes."

After that, I take a shower and brush my teeth like every other good American. I have to take a phone call from the President because he needs to know what color underwear to use that day. "Today is Tuesday, so look for the blue ones with 'Tuesday' written on the band." So now you know...if it wasn't for me, the POTUS would wear the same undies every day of the week.

To keep myself grounded, I updated the Still Life with Interview page on the site for the first time in about a year and a half. But you guys are totally worth it. Just click on the tab up there on the top left. I know, it's an iffy one, but I'm easing into these high-level updates, you know?

Labels: fun, lies, Mike Lowell, Red_Sox

Is there anything better than a Sox blowout of the Evil Empire? No there is not. Well, maybe a blowout with A-Rod making a couple of errors.

Mr. Dump claims the only words better than "error by third baseman Alex Rodrigez" would be "Posada is hit by a pitch."

(He doesn't like Posada. He'd probably throw at his head on purpose if he was a pitcher.)

That's not a nice note to go out on, so instead, let's all compliment Mike Lowell for becoming a freaky deaky double hitter extraordinaire. Duuuuude!

Labels: Mike Lowell