I'm With StraStra

Figures.

Next weekend, I'm celebrating my second anniversary.  Yes, not only did I find someone gullible enough to settle for me and my charming personality -- cause lord knows it's not for my looks or money -- she's stuck with me for two years.  Yay for all that.

Like a good husband, I scrambled around, trying to figure out what I could get her.  It's the cotton anniversary, but after last year's ream of Xerox paper didn't go well, I figured I'd buck tradition.

So that's where CoCo came in.  Like all the other hipsters, wannabe hipsters, hipster-haters, and wannabe hipster-haters in town, when word came that our favorite red-headed fired late night host was staging a road show, I jumped at the chance to pay for something I used to get for free, and would eventually get for free later. What else am I gonna do with that $200 anyway?

So CoCo's coming to town on June 8, and I'll be there in the front row.  Woo!

Then comes today.  As if Mike Rizzo weren't a loathsome enough personality, now we find out that Mr. Aura is a Jay Leno guy.  How else to explain it?  I hope he wakes up to a Masturbating Bear head in his bed tonight.

I won't see Strasburg's first start.  Looks like I won't see his second; he'll be ripping Manny Acta a new sphincter (thought I suspect we owe a debt of gratitude for Strasburg to Mr. Acta) in Cleveland.   Guess I better get my White Sox tickets soon, and start my own Strasburg Miniplan.

So come June 8, I'm with CoCo, not StraStra.  He better be fucking funny.

And I hope my wife loves me.