Please no Charlie Batch

My dad on Ben Roethlisberger's helmetless motorcycle accident today: "The asshole should try playing the game without a helmet."






"Was it only last week
We made crazy promises,
Mad as the snow?"

-- Mas as Snow, Kitchens of Distinction


I emailed Joe yesterday to see about getting my stuff back. It spurred a little typed dialog between us for part of today. It wasn't hostile or inflammatory, in fact it was quite the opposite. Kind of a conversation about the very remote possibility of making amends.

We didn't talk about why he kicked me out. He suggested counseling, and I agreed. I think that is a good idea, if only to get an objective third party to verify if I'm crazy or not. But I don't know if I can do this.

The very least that I can hope to get out of it is that we come to terms over the new baby. Maybe the best I can hope for is to find out why this happened and get in one last, big fat "Fuck you."

OK, OK. I'll try to keep an open mind.

I've stepped up the house hunt, and I've found a lot of interesting stuff. I'm going to look at three on Wednesday. Here is my favorite:



It has hardwood floors, a fireplace, stained glass windows, a game room, central air... and it's empty! I have a good feeling about this one. The outside looks kinda odd and I almost skipped looking at it, but when I did a driveby, I realized it was just a poor choice of paint colors. Puke brown and shit brown, I mean, really??

It's a great price, low taxes, good school district... oh, and I did mention EMPTY, right?