It's with a heavy heart that I blog now that my Giants have been eliminated from contention. My sleeplessness knows no bounds as my boys wasted one of the most dominant seasons in recent memory in four close-fought games with the fake-ass expansion Marlins. Boo. Otherwise my last three day weekend before my contract expires was one of revelry and drunkenness. Initially I had no plans for these days except to find a new job online, e-mail friends and family and pick up the new Outkast record, but shamefully, none of those things happened. What did happen was drinking, and lot's of it. Scrabble too, happened. It was for lack of a more potent word, fun. With a dry, cool vocabulary like that you better believe I won with help from Eileen. Also, I slept with a stinky cat. His name is Wally, because Fenton found him near a wall. Then more drinking. I ate at TGI Fridays which ideally I will never do again, though I enjoyed my three-hour, $90 meal of various fried unpleasantness surrounded by artificial veneers, boundless flair and stocking clad waitresses. We didn't get balloons though. What's next for me? I really don't know yet, which is why I don't blog so much these days. I've left things to the last minute, and now I begin to worry a bit about the prospect of getting a plan together over the next three weeks. Let me know if you have any advice. I'm taking a vacation for sure, but where that happens and what will follow is still yet to be determined. So my friend Robin invited me to the site called Friendster and wouldn't you know it about 15 of my best friends from the city are members and very funny people at that. It was good to think about them again and the site is pretty damn cool as well. It's actually right up there with Illmitch.com, which I've supported from day 1. To bed with me.



You're not the only one but you're the best, Wally