No “Linky” for Friday morning. Sorry. There isn’t much in the way of compelling links from my perusal of the world of the NFC East from Thursday anyway. It’s late Thursday night (currently 11:22 in the pm), and on a typical night my 34-going-on-82-year-old ass has been in bed for at 2 hours already by now. Instead, a few random notes:
– I haven’t watched NBA basketball in ages, and I find myself completely engulfed in this series. Both teams are playing as hard as a 14 seed in the NCAA tourney, except, you know, they’re among the best athletes in the world. Basketball is actually the sport I know the most about from an X’s and O’s standpoint. I could coach it. I’ve reffed it. I just don’t care about it. Anyway, I know that the reputation out there is that LeBron and Wade get an absurd amount of calls in their favor, and without actually having witnessed it, I always though that was probably overblown. But holy hell… I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s a wonder the opposing coach isn’t thrown out of every game for absolutely blowing a gasket arguing such lopsided officiating. I would last a quarter at most.
– Went to my buddy Kevin’s wedding last weekend. Pretty sure my wife was among the 5 drunkest people at the reception. Good job, baby – Please don’t read this. Thanks. We’re heading to Vegas Friday afternoon – I’ll try to update the site as best I can while I’m there. If I lose less than $1,000, I’ll consider it a win.
– My aforementioned buddy Kevin texted me from his honeymoon at Sea World. Sea World, Kev? Really? You just spent the last year preparing for a wedding… What do you want to do now? “I want to get splashed by Shamu!” Anyway, he sent me a text asking if I formerly had a stuffed animal named Roynell. Sadly, I did. He was named after former Eagles safety Roynell Young. He was a white seal. I loved Roynell, and he loved me. One Easter, I ate too much candy and vomited on Roynell. He wasn’t even mad. We just put him in the washing machine, and he was good to go. I miss Roynell. Seriously. I texted Kevin back asking him if he knew what kind of animal Roynell was. He got it right. So that begs the question – What’s worse… The fact that I had a stuffed animal seal that I named Roynell that I slept with every night, or that my friend Kevin remembered it, and was thinking about it on his honeymoon?