JOSH HAMILTON ROCKS THE HOUSE

Early Monday night I was of the opinion that the Home Run Derby is terrible. I don't like the format. It lasts too long. A homer here. A homer there. Big friggin' deal.
Rangers power hitter Josh Hamilton changed all that with his 28-homer performance. He wasn't just clearing the fence. He was clearing the first deck. His fellow All-Stars were in awe. I was in awe. When he broke the record for one round, it only went 396 feet. Please, I said. Show me some power. I did feel bad for the few people in the left-field bleachers who didn't come away with a home run ball.
I thought the performance was a walking commercial for hard drugs. Get them in your system. Get them out your system. Become a monster at the plate. Sounds easy enough to me. Start your needles, kids.

SENTENCES END IN PERIODS

Ever since my eighth-grade history teacher went on a tirade about periods to our class, I have paid extra attention to the end of sentences. I have even used his line often: "Sentences end in periods." But it's amazing how many times the period is left off. I catch it while proofing pages at work at least once a week. How difficult can it be?

THE TINA CURSING CORNER

My Mom isn't thrilled about the new setup at Wal-Mart. "Everything's different. It's all fucked up. You can't find anything. The rugs are in the front now. They really fucked it up. I don't like it. It's fucked."
For those of you wondering if I'm making this mom stuff up, I'm not. She really talks like this when she gets mad. If say I wake up and don't say hello for a few hours, she'll come into my room and say: "I don't get a good morning. Not a fuck you. Nothing."

PARTING SHOT
Josh Hamilton's 71-year-old pitcher in the Home Run Derby was putting the ball too low.

JRap: He's having trouble getting the ball over the plate.
Lopes: That's not the only thing he has trouble getting up.
Jelly: (at the same time without knowing Lopez was talking) Don't they make pills for that?

THE DAILY TOP LIST
I've been making fun of a lot of people on this blog. This top five is designed to show me as an idiot. Therefore, here is the top five times I've been lost or felt lost, with story accompanying.

5) On the way to tubing. Summer 2003.
A group of us were going tubing. Somebody took a wrong turn. We realized we were no longer headed in the right direction when the gravel road we were on turned into dirt and that lead to a forest with no road. All our cell phones had no signal. This wasn't my fault, but I needed a No. 5, and heck, we were lost for an hour.

4) On the way to Baton Rouge. August 27, 2005.
Paul and I evacuated together to the Red Stick. We got lost. We got off on the wrong foot in the contraflow. You see, neither of us geniuses paid enough attention to realize that driving on the contraflow side kept you going toward Baton Rouge like normal. We left on Saturday night at like 11 p.m., so there was hardly any traffic.
The sad part is that we didn't realize that by staying in the regular lanes, we were now going the wrong way. It took us a solid 45 minutes to realize this. I saw a sign that said Jackson. I said: "I think that's up north in Mississippi. We might be going the wrong way." We certainly were. Paul gets off at the next exit. There's a cop on the ramp, and we ask him for directions. He gives them to us. Nice guy. I think he was expecting us. We follow his directions, but a stop sign where we were supposed to turn wasn't there.
Now, we're even more lost. It's about 4:30 a.m., and a guy walking the street notices us. He comes up to the car and asks if we want some doughnuts. A) He didn't have any doughnuts with him. B) There were no businesses anywhere around us. We said no thank you and turned back. Turns out, the stop sign had been knocked down, and after getting better directions, we made it to Baton Rouge at 5:30 a.m.
To review, we took 6 1/2 hours to get from Harahan to Baton Rouge and not once saw any traffic. This would be a much better story if that bitch (and the government's levee system) didn't cause all that damage.

3) On the way to the casino. May 2006.
As you may know, I'm horrible at directions. To me, the GPS is the best modern invention. I only knew the St. Charles way to Harrah's, and I knew the interstate was easier. I thought I knew what exit to take, so I leave work one night and head over. Well, I missed the exit but didn't realize this for about 10 more exits. I get off, and I'm someplace I've never been before. My gas light just happens to be on at this point. I stop at a gas station. The store seems to be closing, and the owner is telling people to go away. I knock on the glass door looking for directions. The two people inside can't make out what I'm saying.

Me: "I need directions."
Post Katrina Damaged Area Store Owner: "We're closed for the night. You can't get gas."
Me: "I don't need gas. Please, I just need directions." (There isn't another car in sight now. No lights either.)
PKDASO: "Go away, now! I'm telling you for the last time."
Me: (putting hands together in prayer fashion) "Please, just open the door."
PKDASO: "My assistant here has a gun." (I can't leave. I have no idea where I am.)
Me: (pushing door open) "Look, I just need to know where the interstate is."
PKDASO: "Oh, sorry. Lots of crazies around here. Just make the next left. Then right. And you're there."

I did. Got off at the first Metairie exit to fill up. And that's why I don't use the interstate.

2) On the way to the Lenny Kravitz concert. April 16, 2002.
My mom is dropping Paul and I off at the N.O. Arena. She is supposed to pick us up later. She drops us off a few blocks away to avoid traffic, and we walk up to the Arena. Except the lights are all off. There's no one around. Hmmm. I take out my ticket. It says Municipal Auditorium. Oops.
Paul thinks that it's not too far. We start walking over. We stop at Wendy's and eat. My mom calls.
Mom: "Umm, it dawned on me on the way home. I didn't see any people. Did we go to the wrong place?
Me: "Yes. We're walking to the Municipal Auditorium."
Mom: "Don't you dare fucking walk in the city, Gene. Get a fucking cab, right now!"
Me: "OK, OK."
At first, we ignore the advice. Until we walked pass Tulane hospital. A drunk doctor comes out of the bar across the street. We're on the bar side.
Me: "Excuse me. Can you tell me how to get to the Municipal Auditorium?"
Drunk Doctor: "Man, you don't want to walk all the way there. You're going (starts slurring) to get shot."

Boy, that scared the bejesus out of me. I saw a cab down the street and sprinted after it. I caught it at a light down the street. We got in. My mom didn't pick us up because: "I have no fucking idea where that is, Gene."

1) On the way to Disney World. June 1, 2002.
I went to Orlando with Paul's parents after graduation. June 1 was our one day to go to Disney World. I had never been. Well, we get there, and what's going on? Do you know? OK, I'll tell you. June 1 is National Gay Day at Disney World. Talk about being lost.
We went in, anyway. It was a freak show, let me tell you. Gay pride everywhere. One dude had real short shorts and a blue T-shirt that read: "Dump him." At one point, there was a parade, and a bunch of gays got in a line with red shirts and white shirts. They formed a freakin' candy cane. It was a pretty disturbing day.
But hey, I got to go on Splash Mountain.