A considerable amount of idealism have I, the roarer of enormous faith.

That said, I am listening to Falcon alone in the dark and drinking a really expensive beer.

Red Sox are getting beaten up on early, Buchholz is not as effective since he was sent down. Sure, he was rocky sometimes, but I think he could have worked through it if given the chance.

Sometimes I really consider the idea of an afterlife, you know? I mean what would it all be like? Can heaven be this clean, well-lighted regimented workforce preparing for a battle? Could it be a beer hall with hundreds of unbelievable taps? Is it a nice cool day outside of my apartment with Snat n Bat drinking cold Arnold Palmers whistling at women?

Is it a considerably heavy feeling in your chest being relieved for the rest of eternity? Is the feeling of a painkiller after chronic pain? Is it two dogs sniffing each other forevermore?

I'd like to think any of these things are true, but I have no clue as to what happens-- not even an opinion.

Man, the new Constantines record is fucking awesome.

"Transmissions from the liberation front/ Broken English on invisible wires/ So far gone I didn't cast a shadow/ I believed I was born a liar."

Is heaven an ideal front for a neverending drug operation never to be detected? A life lived in infamy amongst the dregs of society-- the only people who truly understand the notion of respect?

Ommegang Brewery does no wrong, guys. Their beer is really excellent.

This particular one is a Belgian-style Saison. Great aftertaste after a slow onset of wheatiness and a touch of fruit. Hennepin, it's called.

No Paul here. No Snat. No Sharky. Joey is ignoring my instant messages. This is my only communique with the world.

Godspeed, gentle internet.

Is heaven a crowded burlesque parlor with eight of your closest friends? A sweaty mass of semi-beautiful women and drinking cheap whiskey as if there is an important wedding to follow or a recent funeral just passed?

There are some gems on this album. F'real. I'm going to blast that Constantines shit at the party tomorrow.

Buccholz is settling down I hope. 1-2-3 inning, and the Sox got 2 back.

3-2 Angels.

I've been trying to use the passive voice more lately.

I am being killed by my job.

I am now getting myself inebriated by beers.

Could heaven be a marquee with your name in bright lights-- lights meant to blind those traveling by with thoughts of meeting you or snapping a picture of you to say they had? Could heaven be a continual run of fame with no bad script choices?

Man, Vlad Guerrero is so fucking cool. He's like Manny Ramirez without any bullshit.

Man, I'm hungry all of a sudden.

Ravenous, even.

Could heaven be a gigantic pizza that never ends coupled with a stomach that never retains?

I'd eat a pizza in seconds right now.

sorry jarf i wasn't ignoring u

it's cool, playa

za bird

I'm gonna listen to the new Bowerbirds next. SAD TIMES?!

I got this blue mesh hat that just says, in plain block lettering, YMCA. I threw away all my old hats, but this one is mesmerizing. I can't stop looking at it right now. It begs me to wear it, but I am not in a hat mood, you know? I got half a mind to sieze control of the situation, march down to the local bar and give the damn thing away.

But it's soooooooo cool.

whatsupjoey: we have this one about putting money under you balls
me: that's nice

Could it be that heaven is a grouping of fine jellies ready for consumption? A series of fine breads, aligned near their the jelly they best suit? Could it be?

People keep asking me to got to all these festivals, but my idea of fun is not sweating my balls off for hours to see three bands i like in a grouping of 30 "it" bands that would just as soon sell me a remix EP than go in the studio with an actual idea. Cool, this band that has one album is going to play eight songs from that album and then do an encore of an obscure Bowie hit. Awesome. They deserve your praise for having the balls to go into a studio and make an album in an age where it's possibly the easiest thing ever.

OMG THEY SOUND LIKE THIS ONE BAND FROM 1985!!!!1!!!1!11

Man, Buchholz will be lucky if he gets through 5 1/3. Damn. Good game though. 4-3 Halos in the 5th. Those guys always give us trouble out there, but we kill them in the playoffs.

I'm fading a bit. being drunk for the past few days in a row will do that to you. Allegash White Ale poured, however. I'll power through.

What if heaven were series of weightlifting competitions? Constant training for the next big event and talking about your muscle and the defending champion's new issue with HGH complications being your ticket to the top? What if it were being so masculine that women were actually scared by the sight of you unless they were nearly as big as you were?

Make that 4 2/3 for ole Clay. Man, he sucked dick tonight.

6-3 halos, two on and some schleb coming in for clean-up work.

Meanwhile, somewhere, Julian Tavarez is still getting a paycheck.

Grails, Redlight. One amazing album. The new one is awesome as well.

Man, I want some diner food, but all I got is eleven bucks. I don't want to stiff on the tip.

How about heaven being a delivery order you have to make in like 2001, only it's an eternity of driving there? You just pop in your favorite CDs for hours on hours on hours and then you just go from resedential to resedential staring at medium-nice houses. At one point, maybe, you look over-- after what could be a billion years, but the food is till hot and the CDs you love are never old and you just drive at a nice easy pace with the windows down on a nice Spring night.

There's this piano part to this Grails Cd-- on the song Reprieve-- that floors me. Wait, sorry, I am being floored by the song Reprieve's piano part.

Should I just go to bed hungry?

That was the last bird, I swear.

8-3 Angels. FUUUUUUqqqqq

Watch the highlights of this Red Sox-Angels game tomorrow. Manny just misjudged a liner by about five feet. Then, trying to recover, he overran the ball, fell down and had to reach under himself to recover the ball.

Jesus.

Whur roommates?

brd

Heaven, quite possibly, is the longest liveblog you can imagine, times infinity.

that doesn't sound like heaven, buddy

tru

mad tru, actually.