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So I was badgered into going to a Royals game this week.
Not that I hate live baseball-
I hate driving to and in KC, and I hate getting in and out of Kauffman stadium.
So we thought we'd go to a weekday game for a no-name opponent (no cubs, socks, cards, yanks etc).
Low attendance, in and out, easy peezey?
Right?
RIGHT!?
WRONG!
My dad's flipping through the news and we hear this little tidbit
"And 15,000 teenage kids won admission to Thursday's game between the Royals and the Diamondbacks"
"... how many?"
"15,000"
"... which day?"
"Thursday"
...
..
.
"FUCK!"
So... irritated.
Anyway, the photo-ref Kampfer(s) is coming along, and I've almost completed the epilogue levels on Trauma Team.
"But what's after trauma team!?"
The bottom of the barrel.
And where the FUCK is my mail?
Completed my change of address forms a month ago and I've received dickall in the mail.
...
so much bullshit coming this week.
You could ask, but I probably don't want to talk about any of it.
