Schadenfreude

Only thing better than having the Evil Empire swept in the postseason?

Watching it happen with $114,000,000 of no-trade-clause sitting on the bench.

Thanks, A-Roid, you made the season enjoyable after all.

Trifecta

I have had a back-of-the-brain fantasy or desire for quite some time. I think it has been fueled mainly by the occasional photo crossing my desktop. The setting is this: a man, typically in a business suit, seated in a comfortable chair; a woman, nude or clad in some enticing bits of lingerie — certainly with heels, we couldn’t possibly do without that vital erotic touch — kneeling between his legs; his cock in her mouth; a snifter of Cognac in his hand.

Sometimes it’s a glass of wine. But usually brandy. Low lighting. Kind of an end-of-the-day feel to it. A brandy and a blow job. It always seemed to me like a combination that would suit me very well.

And then, to shift gears completely: I have long wanted to enjoy some oral attention while watching a baseball game. The major league average game was 2 hours 46 minutes last time I looked it up, which I admit is a trifle long for fellatio, but a few innings worth at least has always seemed like an attractive proposition. Enjoyment for the mind, enjoyment for the body.

I am happy — make that delighted — to report that there is nothing incompatible in these desires.

Brandy, baseball, blow job.

It just works. Marvelous.

Play!

— Frenulum

Anthem

I don’t listen to country music and don’t know its stars. So the name, career, and reputation of Jack Ingram are mysteries to me.

I will say this: his rendition of The Star Spangled Banner before game six of the 2011 ALCS was sweet, delightful, unaffected, heartfelt, and delivered almost with the sense of a lullaby. His question about whether the flag was still aloft seemed genuine, as it might have been asked by a fallen soldier who was out of sight of the standard under which he had fought.

I found it intensely moving, and from this vast distance thank the man who performed it.

— Frenulum

Thank you, Tigers

And all the sweeter for A-R*d’s three Ks.

That sucks

When did suck acquire a pejorative sense?

I just grabbed the nearest paper dictionary, Random House College 1972, not my favorite of the dozen dictionaries in the house but it will do for now, and under suck there is not the least notion of: my job sucks, our shortstop sucks, that movie really sucked.

But it is undeniably common now, that sense of disgust and failure. How did it arise?

Think about sucking. A baby at the nipple, exchanging nurture and nourishment, love and grateful satiation. Purely pleasurable. (Yeah, I get the teething thing, but grant me the generalities, ok?, it’s late.) An eager lady kneeling at her partner’s feet, mouth busy, active, engaged, eager, agile, trained or in training, thrilling herself with how much she delights him, thrilling him with how — spurt spurt spurt spurt — oh, my, that was good.

Where does the anger come from? The disdain? The… dismissal?

If a fellow comes back from a date, and a roommate asks: how did it go? Is the answer: “She sucked” a boast or a complaint?

This is not facetious, I really want to know what happened here. Anyone? Where did the word lose its beauty?

— Frenulum

Fraud

Four of the starting nine on the AL All-Star roster are from the Evil Empire?

Jeter? Really? I mean, come on. Seriously? An indifferent shortstop — who hasn’t even played enough to qualify for a fielding average, but would be in 44th place if he had — ranked 257th in on-base average? REALLY?

<gag>

Six of nine from two AL teams.

Fan voting has to end right now.

— Frenulum