I wrote this post a long time ago, a really long time ago. But because I am aawesome with two a's, I'm going to put it up unedited anwyways. No downtime this week to put up new posts on current events (such as Celebrity Duets/Survivor/the-fast-sinking-ships-that-are-my-fantasy-baseball-teams). Just know, I'm alive and still kickin'.

The end of my summer signified by the end of the softball season has come. I am relegated back to playing "fantasy" sports (I'm trying my best to ration out my hockey drafts over the next few weeks).

I sat on my lazy-butt the entire past weekend. But unlike the upcoming fall TV season, I managed to sit outside and enjoy nature for all that it was worth - the continuous flow of dust, the on-again-off-again rain, the scorching sunshine, the cool summer breeze, OG's like me eating on sunflower seeds among the tall palm trees.

Half my mind is in sunny California half the time. That's what happens when people ask you "whatsup" and from the hours of 8 (I'm being generous) to 5 (still generous, still aawesome) you look up to see the depressing ceiling of your cubicle jail.

When in solitude, one discovers things about onself. Such as ones ability to make lists. I don't just make lists, I make lists GOOD.

No catchy transitions today.

Things Learned After Yet Another Weekend Over-run By Softball Watching

1. Have your head in the game.
And if you do not do this, at least have your head screwed on straight. Look, I'm no conversation nazi. Nor do I think conversing while watching a softball game is wrong by any means. But if you are so engrossed in conversation, and idiodic enough to duck when "HEADS UP" is being hollered, you deserve to be sporting that shinny bruise wherever the softball lands on you.

For safety's sake, just look up when "heads up" is called. Hold your hands up in front of your face/other important body parts. Clutch on tightly to the person beside you. Let out a girly scream. But BE AWARE.

Let me further simply this:

"Heads Up!" - HEAD UP
"Duck!" - HEAD DOWN
"Goose!" - run around the circle

2. Do not drink more than the equivalent of 1L of *insert liquid of choice* when no washrooms are around.
It got surprisingly hot yesterday, and partially because I overdressed, thinking that if I was shivering on Saturday, then Sunday would be equally cold. When the opportunity presented itself to drink some refreshing apple juice, I downed about 2L. Over a span of 5 hours. Sitting down. Out in the ballpark. With no washrooms.

Most people can put 2 and 2 together, but for the sake of keeping the theme of further simplification going, let's just say that some usually ignored grass in generally unused areas of certain Toronto parks were watered by yours truly, Buttug McOysty. And I am aawesome.

3.

4. The seventh-inning stretch can and should be employed at any opportune time.
A conversation I had with the small of my back this morning:

Me - Hey small-of-my-back. How you doing this fine Monday morning?
S.O.M.B. - Like a fifty year old trapped in the body of a lazy, fat, 21 year old.
Me - Whoa! A talking small-of-the-back!

Me and the small-of-my-back, we're tight (making puns out of my pain is the only plus I can see in this situation).

5. Dreams can come true without the help of the make-a-wish-foundation.
Shoutout to the 2006 CCSA Junior Softball Champions, the Seraphs. Couple years in the making, but I'm sure the pay-off was sweet. Please rep NYCBC well during your reign as champions. Streets is talking, peoples is gossiping, and the childrens are watching.

Upon my re-reading of this post, I can see why I didn't hit the publish button in the first place. Alas, this blog demands something new at the top of the page everyonce in a while, and I was physically confronted today. Here at Stupefying Stupidity, I, Buttug McOysty swear to give the people what they want. I will rise to the occasion. Afterall, that's why I call myself Dwyane Wade