Gimme All Your Lovin… (All Your Hugs And Kisses Too)

16 Aug

OK faithful blog followers.  It’s getting dangerously close to the wire and I’m a little drunk, so for tonight’s blog I’m going to go ahead and make a Huge…Earth Shattering…Mind Blowing…Blood Curdling….Deeply Personal………”confession.”

(A straight from the heart…100% uncensored… the kind of thing you only tell somebody when you’re really REALLY drunk….CONFESSION!!!)

Here it is….  Are you ready?…  Are you sure?…OK here goes… In spite of everything I’ve told you, in spite of everything I’ve wrote, I’ve decided to admit tonight…(deep breaths…deep breaths…) I don’t…really….hate baseball all that much.  (WHOA!  That feels good.)

All right , before you all go completely insane, I have exactly four easy to understand justifications for this bizarre anomaly.  (And here they are, in chronological order.)

1.) Mark “The Bird” Fidrych

This guy was absolutely amazing.  He pitched for the Detroit Tigers (The baseball team of my home state) from 1976-1980.  During which time I progressed from 3 to 7 years old.  I was fascinated with this guy, and not because I cared about the Detroit Tigers at the time.  (I’d barely figured out how to not shit in my pants!)  The thing was the guy was completely BAT SHIT crazy, and yet he could still throw a baseball like a motherfucker.  He sometimes talked (out loud) to the baseball before throwing it.  He sometimes got down on his hands and knees to make sure every grain of sand on the pitching mound was perfectly arranged before he would throw a pitch.  To top it all off, he was tall and spindly, had a huge pointy noise, a wild curly mane of hair, and did in fact look almost exactly like Big Bird.  (I can’t make this shit up.)  Check out this vintage Sports Illustrated cover.

MarkFidrych

2.)  The 1984 World Series.

I was 11.  The Detroit Tigers were on fire.  In the play offs they dismissed a bunch of other teams, then went ahead and won the World Series against the San Diego Padres.  It was the first time I’d personally witnessed a professional sports team, from my home state, win any sort of championship, and I watched every single game, on the edge of my seat. To this day I can sit here and rattle off the names of almost every player.  (Lance Parrish, Alan Trammel, Chet Lemon, Kirk Gibson, Darrel Evans, Barbaro Garvey, Aurelio Lopez, Jack Morris, Lou Whitaker, and Larry Herndon, not to mention coach Sparky Anderson.)  I know I forgot a few, but give me some credit, I just spouted off all those names from memory, and I am NOT a sports guy.  At all.)     Lance Parrish was my favorite, by the way, mostly because he kind of looked like Vincent Price.  He was the catcher.  (And a pretty good batter too.)

8f8a0dc04b2714e03065baead9a090c1

3.)  Baseball cards.

A geography teacher I had in 7th grade named Mr. Redding was really into baseball cards, and talked about them all the time in class.  For some reason I caught onto this and decided I might like to be into collecting baseball cards too.  For about a year I did exactly that, ravenously. (Which is pretty much how I do everything.)  Then, about a year later, I discovered comic books.  So much for baseball cards…

Other than that Mr. Redding was completely humorless and no fun at all.  I wrote another blog about him already. You can read it here.

4.)  ME!!!

If there was ever a sport I had even an inkling of talent in, it was baseball,  at least when it came to batting.  On defense, admittedly, I was completely worthless.  If I was in the infield, I was literally scared to death of the ball.  (For real.  I mean, if that fucker hit you, it was no joke, that shit fucking HURT.)  If I was in the outfield, I was just too damned distracted most of the time.  Here comes the ball, and should be easy to catch, but here’s your outfielder, kicking at dandelions or staring off into space.  He is not likely to notice the ball coming right at him.  This scenario happened more than once.

I had one saving grace, however. When I had a bat in my hands I was like a mother fucking machine.  I could tell when a pitch was no good and would stand there like a statue while it sailed by.  When I got a good pitch, I cracked it into the outfield almost every time.  (Quite a few times over the fence even)  When I was up to bat, it was almost guaranteed I was gonna get on base somehow or another.  Now I don’t like to brag, so If it sounds like I am, let me bring this glorious shit-show back to earth.  Being up to bat was the only thing I was good at.  At all.  And unfortunately we didn’t have “Designated Hitters”  in Little League.

The other thing that helped a lot was Little League was actually a hell of a lot of fun!

I tried out for the High School baseball team when I was a freshman, and gave up on it after a week.  High school sports weren’t fun at all!  Those assholes wanted you to come in, every day, after school and run up and down the field and do weird, uncomfortable calisthenics and shit. Plus they were mother fucking SERIOUS about it.  They wanted to WIN! WIN! WIN!  (I just wanted to have fun.) So I dropped out as soon as I was offered my first of many grocery store jobs. After all I could have some spending money, or I could have my ass kicked every day after school and for what?  (Squat.) So I quit the team and took the job. Thus ended my illustrious “Sports Career.”

So you may be wondering by now what the hell this is all about.

Let me tell you about my day so far.

I worked my last 2 hours at Plum Market.  (Maple Rd.)

I took a nap.

I got up, made a run for some supplies, including my next 30 pack of PBR, seeing as how my last one is almost expired.)

I headed downtown.  My plan was to purchase 1 cd.  It would be my 998th cd.  (My very next post, will most likely be about my cd collection, so I will set aside any other talk about that for now.  Be prepared for that shit tomorrow night.)

Also on the agenda was to eat something, then I planned to hit the grocery store on the way back for chili making supplies.  (Because nothing goes better with grueling August heat than a gigantic pot of fucking CHILI!  Right?)

I went to Wazoo, where I couldn’t resist buying not one… but TWO cds.  (#998 and #999)

140         71iw5IUg1DL._SL1133_

Then I crossed the dreaded “Diag” and entered into the labyrinthine hell known as Pinball Pete’s.  (Abandon All Hope Ye Who Enter Here.)  I played Tetris for awhile, then Galaga, which I’m normally insanely good at, but the joystick was all gummy, probably from some lowlife brain dead frat scum puking on it or some shit, so I gave up after awhile and went to a place called The Brown Jug, for a delicious dinner of my usual cheeseburger and fries.

I ate that.  Then decided I would have a gin n’ tonic.  (I was offered a choice between a single or a double)  I chose a double.  Why not?  I’m on VACATION!!!.  It was about halfway through my first drink when I got caught up in a Detroit Tigers baseball game on television.  They seemed to be doing well.  In the first inning they were up two runs to zero.  I ended up drinking three more double gin n’ tonics while I watched them slowly fall to shit.

I paid my tab.  What I had originally expected to be a 10 dollar tab was now a 60 dollar tab.  (I didn’t feel great about this.)

I made my way across town, and decided what the fuck, I may as well go ahead and buy that 1000th CD.  I stopped into Encore, and bought this.  (Hence the title of this blog, as that particular song is, in fact, on this CD.

ZZ_Top_-_Eliminator

By the time I got to the edge of downtown, I had to urinate badly so I ducked into Old Town Tavern.  (An old friend indeed)  I never feel right about being “That Guy Who Just Came In To Use The Bathroom” so I sat and had another gin n’ tonic (a single) while watching the Tigers fuck up a little more.

Then I walked the rest of the way home.  Feeling, officially, like a Grizzled Angry Old Man the whole way.

And now I’m going to drink beer until I can’t see anymore.  Thank you “baseball” for ruining my whole fucking day.

And here’s this shit.  (But keep in mind there have also now been NINE gin n tonics thrown into the mix.)

pbr count

6 Responses to “Gimme All Your Lovin… (All Your Hugs And Kisses Too)”

  1. Agent Beetle August 17, 2015 at 2:20 am #

    This is the only baseball story that interested me: http://nypost.com/2014/08/31/pitcher-dock-ellis-dropped-acid-then-threw-a-no-hitter/

    • domingosaurus August 17, 2015 at 8:45 am #

      I watched the documentary about that guy on Netflix. Pretty cool story. There is one other absolutely hilarious baseball story you gotta read about. I’m actually thinking about writing a blog about it. It’s all about an incident known as “Ten Cent Beer Night”

      • domingosaurus August 17, 2015 at 1:37 pm #

        and for the record, it’s written, and posted.

  2. the drunken cyclist August 17, 2015 at 1:35 pm #

    You waited until CD 1000 to buy Eliminator?

    • domingosaurus August 17, 2015 at 1:36 pm #

      (Hangs head in shame.) I know. I know…

      • domingosaurus August 17, 2015 at 1:48 pm #

        Oh wait wait! I have a better explanation! I’ve been trying to build my collection in alphabetical order?

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AlyZen Moonshadow

The words and works of AlyZen Moonshadow, digital mixed media photography artist, designer, musician, poet, philosopher, mother, muse, Goddess!

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I like to write about stuff. I usually try to be funny. Take it or leave it.

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This site is about everything from my philosophy on life to the little things that make me laugh. IIt is about living, and breathing, and pausing long enough to take it all in. I hope it makes you laugh, sometimes makes you cry, but always makes you want to come back for another visit. It is your words, and your likes that inspire me to keep writing. And it is through my writing that you have a very large window to my soul. Relax awhile, read, and enjoy!

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AlyZen Moonshadow

The words and works of AlyZen Moonshadow, digital mixed media photography artist, designer, musician, poet, philosopher, mother, muse, Goddess!

Are You Finished Yet?

I like to write about stuff. I usually try to be funny. Take it or leave it.

Michael's Origins

Sherlock unlocking the past

anewperspectiveperhaps

This site is about everything from my philosophy on life to the little things that make me laugh. IIt is about living, and breathing, and pausing long enough to take it all in. I hope it makes you laugh, sometimes makes you cry, but always makes you want to come back for another visit. It is your words, and your likes that inspire me to keep writing. And it is through my writing that you have a very large window to my soul. Relax awhile, read, and enjoy!

Be Free 2 Love

Soaring through Life, Love, & Happiness: One story at time.

PotatoPen

That's right! I write!

Forty, c'est Fantastique !

La vie est belle !

Mr Tookles

tee hee

The Dependent Independent

TV, movies, books…rants… just trying to put skills to use.

Fictional Kevin

Cigar Fueled Creative Writing

Tubularsock

". . . first hand coverage, second hand news"

Elizabeth Conrad

True stories from a recovering asshole.

jenny's lark

the beauty of an ordinary life

Skinny and Single

Single and Over 40 and Not Suicidal About It

BunKaryudo

Lovingly Hand-Crafted Humor Blog

Life After 50

Life at any age can be amazing! We only need to grab hold & experience it!

Lessons from my daughter

Although all doctors agreed she would do nothing.....

lindaseccaspina

remembers the invention of the wheel

Fiction Favorites

with John W. Howell

Ram On

Soon, Right Away, Right Away

Retro Girl & the Chemo Kid

Superpower: love. Adventures through childhood cancer, grief, healing and happiness.

What Rhymes with Stanza?

Words at rest, words at play

Life and Random Thinking

A old dog CAN blog

Just Fred in Wyo

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Mental Defecation

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