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Springfield, Missouri, United States
I’m in my mid-30s and still trying to figure out what I want to do with my life. Most of my interests do not exactly come with a reasonable expectation of financial success, things such as artwork and fiction writing. I’ve been married to a delightful, attractive woman for five years, and, thankfully, neither of us wants to have children, so we can look forward to adult vacations, sleeping late, and disposable income. We do have two dogs, two chinchillas, a gerbil, and three chickens. Only the chickens seem to be pulling their weight vis-à-vis contributions to the household other than excrement.

Wednesday, March 14, 2007

Immediate 3 Strikes

3/14/07

Two of my adult coworkers just had a 15-minute conversation about baseball cards. I do not understand this. You could say it’s odd for a nigh 30-year-old man to collect comic books, but at least comics have a story, and artwork, and, I dunno, a friggin’ point. Baseball cards are essentially small, useless cardboard pictures of people paid gross amounts of money to hit a spheroid with a cudgel and then run around in a diamond. Can someone please explain to me why anyone over the age of 10 would collect these things? Unless purely for investment purposes, I mean.

Even those lame-ass Magic: the Gathering cards have a game associated with as opposed to just being photos of things that play a game. Well, they’re associated with virginity, too, but that’s not the fault of the cards themselves.
In reference to the picture, the next time I get drunk I want to be called "Chief Bender."

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