4/22/09 Condiments? Don’t you have to talk to the pharmacist for those?

I have nothing to offer, except my extensive knowledge of signs and my extensive knowledge of literature. Other than that, I’m clueless. Do you see what happens when you take a man to the Alps?

JoePo tries to come to terms with pitch counts. Reminds me of Eddie Izzard talking about the “two weeks we tried the metric system.”

I know I bitch and moan a lot, but I really am completely disgusted with both Florida and signs. And while the reality is I moved of my own volition, I am really trapped here now. I am the only thing standing between my brother losing his investment and not. I am the thin magenta line. “But I don’t like that shade of magenta…do you have something a little lighter?” Trust me, if you think the New Yorkers and the Bostonians are annoying as antagonists in baseball, try acquiescing to their every sign need, as they completely abuse the consumer process.

We lost to the Yankees last night. You know, much like my love for football has gotten smaller, and my love for baseball has grown, my hatred for the Yankees has gotten smaller and my hatred for the Red Sox has grown. (nothing says manly like eye-gouging, Tek). They beat us with Andy Pettite and Mariano Rivera, which is not so good news to Welch/Eck, but…records are meant to be broken. And, c’mon–that’s kinda like getting beaten by your dad or something..

Apparently, Devine thinks he’s Octavio or something, according to SuSlu. And Outman will miss his next start. Yawn.

I got signs to make.

Oh, and my calendar informs me (not the one with Staplehead blankly staring at me–BTW, who the fuck puts these A’s calendars together? I expect next month will have Randy Velarde on it) that it’s Administrative Professionals Day today. I’m not sure if that’s the new office doublespeak for secretaries or we’re supposed to buy bouquets for the executive vice president, but act accordingly.