1) I am going to a Dodgers game this evening with Gregory, my son, Hunter, and his buddy, Brad. I am also going to another one on Wednesday night with Hunter, my best friend, Billy, and a whole slew of filthy Jackals. I am as excited as excited could be. Through my son’s passion for the game, and his love of the history and the mythology of the sport, I have inadvertently found that I fucking LOVE baseball. Who ever would have thought that an old withered debutante such as myself would enjoy a sport of ANY kind? (other than chasing sailors, that is.) Will wonders never cease?

2) Speaking of whoring around…Billy told me last night that he heard some HILARIOUS goddamned commedienne on The Howard Stern Show who reminded him of me. One of her biggest belly laughers:

When Howie asked her if she had any cellulite, she answered, “Do I have any cellulite? Shit, Howard, my ass looks like I been sittin’ on gravel.”

3) I am really getting in the groove with getting myself back into some semblance of shape — and I likes it. I feel so much better, I cannot even tell you. I know there are my fierce homies out there who love their fat — and god bless that fabulous fat, I say! — but the pain, discomfort, and related health issues are just not for me. I don’t have to weigh 110, goddamnit…but at 5’1″, pushin’ a fucking deuce is just too much for my smallish frame. I can’t do it. For those of you have expressed interest in the matter, I will keep you posted as to my progress and…my return to my own personal fierce fighting form.

4) We spent the Easter holiday up in Fresno with my sister, Mo, and her family. A fun and feasty time was had by all. Oh, and Fresno has finally finally finally gotten their very own Whole Foods — and a really grand and comprehensive one at that. Can IKEA be far behind? My ‘hood is truly coming into it’s own, goddamnit. I couldn’t be prouder.

5) My hair is growing out FINALLY. I was starting to get real fucking tired of looking like a fat Paul McCartney, circa 1962. I loved it for awhile, but have decided this whole short hair thing is just not for me. It seems like short hair would be easier, but in fact it is much more complicated and perilous. One, with my usually longer hair, I never ever ever have bedhead in the morning; I wake up and I look pretty much exactly like I did before I lay me down to sleep. Now, I arise and looketh like a crazed cockatiel. Not pretty. Secondly, when you have hair that grows as fast as mine does, to keep up with an actual ‘do, you have to get your hair cut like every 3-4 weeks. Umm, I don’t hardly think so. My fatass doesn’t play that kind of maintenance. And thirdly, I just don’t feel like myself with short hair. So, out it grows. I can’t wait.

More later.

And, now…take me out to the ballgame.