Unclogging My Brain. Yet Again.

I love baseball. I love nearly everything about the sport.* But – no offense intended – I don’t think there’s any way you can call MLB players athletes. Sure, they’re skilled and talented, but not even close to the same physical caliber as, say, a gymnast or soccer player. The problem with making this point is that it’s highly argumentative. Why? Because no one’s ever really come up with a plausible way to differentiate an athelete from a sportsplayer. You can’t even rely on the freaking Olympics for a definition: those kooks actually think table tennis players are athletes! For years, I’ve wondered about this… pondered it… endlessly Googled it… had fistfights over it… But I never discovered a suitable interpretation. And then one night, I was jolted awake with the answer: if the pants of your uniform have pockets, you are not an athelete. If you’re wearing a belt around those pants, even more so. And if shit is sticking outta those pockets, that’s a triple whammy.

Simple as that.

I was so thrilled to have spawned this revelation, I could have tossed flowers at my own damned self.

I’m amazing.
And pathetic.

Years ago, learned to accept that, long after most folks have happily entered REM sleep, my mind continues to churn myriad thoughts and ideas, sometimes resulting in moments of brilliance. But the rest of the time, they’re only moments of absurdity. And lots of times, they’re not even that original. Here’s the latest shit that keeps me up at night, not unlike the other thoughts I’ve posted about in the past:

Why do they call them movie trailers when they don’t follow anything – but instead come before something?

How come blue plate specials practically never arrive on a blue plate?

Why does my electric company urge people to report power outages online, when most times the Internet goes down when the electricity does?

If I follow Jonathan Goldsmith’s advice to “stay thirsty, my friends,” I would not drink. In order to stay thirsty. But wouldn’t that defeat the whole purpose of getting me to drink the freaking beer?

Don’t you think that commercials for hearing aids would better serve their key audience if they were closed captioned?

Why is it a good thing to kill two birds with one stone? Wouldn’t you think that it would suck, like double bad luck?

Don’t you think it’s incredibly cruel that people who have lisps can’t properly pronounce the word lisp?

How come cotton is made in a gin, but gin is made in a distillery?

Honest to shit, most nights I’d gladly hand over my beloved Keurig in exchange for a BRAIN OFF button…

* Except pitching coaches being allowed on the mound during gameplay. And Alex Rodriguez.