Experimenting

"You flash your trash to turn me on" - Stars

Yesterday, I borrowed my former bishop's flaking baseball mitt and got some diamond time under the Pennsylvania sun. I wasn't really hung over, but I hadn't really slept, and besides X000 calories from what was likely the best chicken, the best dip and the worst whoopie pie I have ever had, I didn't have much to go on. But I got on-base every time I was coaxed from the dugout, and my fielding wasn't catastrophic (though my dives surely were). This was the first time I'd played since high school, and I was proud of myself.

This blog's authors are nerds. But we are brave, strong men, and we force ourselves regularly out of our comfort zones (and beyond the bounds of accepted good taste).

A lot of pretty questionable noise comes up in our respective Hypem feeds. (We've just added them to this site, by the way.) When I spilled the Spanish version of JoJo's Too Little Too Late, my compatriot jumped, as he had for Jai Ho and all of the other horrible pop I've sent him. And, as I do with tapas, I try whatever he serves me in return -- White Trash Heroes, for example, by some dudes I'd never heard of called Archers of Loaf.

We, risk-averse sons-of-bitches though we be, encourage you to try new things and return to old ones. Despite my svelte bod and fragile complexion, I've discovered over the last year a fondness for pickup games of full-contact football, especially on the line. And The_Ryan started collecting cigars or something. He recommends these.