Monday, May 08, 2006

Just For The Record...

…Barry Bonds is a world-class JERK.

Why am I saying this, you ask? As most of you who follow pop-culture news are aware, Mr. Bonds is within one home run of breaking Babe Ruth’s all time record.

Last night, when he hit #713, the ball landed at the feet of Carlos Oliveras, an airman 1st class in the United States Air Force.

Oliveras, a long time Barry Bonds and Phillies fan, purchased tickets to the three day homestand in hopes of seeing the record broken. When Oliveras asked Bonds to sign the ball, Bonds just smirked at him and said no. He doesn’t sign balls when fans catch them.

What happened to ball players being heroes? Nowadays, most of them refuse to give autographs or pose with fans for pictures unless money is waved in their faces first. Not even for a member of the armed services who is defending the freedom and security of this country so egomanics like Bonds can continue wallowing in all the glory they enjoy. You’d think they’d be just a tad grateful for that, wouldn’t you?

But, it’s all about the money. They don’t give a horse’s heiney about the fans who pay their seven-figure salaries by purchasing tickets and going to the games, or the kids who look up to them as role-models.

Instead, they choose to prostitute themselves by selling that which should be given away out of the goodness of their hearts.

I stopped going to baseball games years ago after seeing the level to which some players stoop to feed their over-inflated egos. The steroid use scandal being a major part of that as well as the baseball card trade shows where players come and sit at a table and only sign cards or allow photos to be taken for a fee.

Barry Bonds, in my not so humble opinion, is nothing more than one of many steroid-enhanced, big-headed hemorrhoids on the posterior of what used to be a really good game.

So, pedal your goods someplace else, Barry, this non-fan ain’t buying.

Sunday, May 07, 2006

Going Clubbing

My husband likes to shop. Shop as in "retail therapy" type shopping. Yeah, it's a little weird, but how many wives can say their husbands love to shop with them?

Yesterday, I think we set a personal best record for warehouse club shopping. We started out going to this open air mall called The's in an upscale part of the county and has some unique shops that I don't have access to locally...Yet...but we're working on it.

In the meantime...we ambled through this mall, enjoying the fresh spring air, looking in shop windows. We even stopped and had lunch at a little deli where I enjoyed not only a lucsious Reuben sandwich, but a bottle of San Pelligrino sparkling spring water with a lemon twist. I mentioned to hubby that I really liked this stuff and wished I had access to it at home.

He immediately hit on the idea of going to BJ's, a warehouse club where we have membership and is just a short distance from the mall. We didn't find San Pelligrino, but we did find a 24-pack of Perrier...the next best thing. From there, we headed to Duluth to pick up Hubby's contact lenses from the Costco eye care center. Not having anything else to do, we wandered around, sampling goodies offered by the ladies and gents in the green aprons. Hubby had recently bought a very nice "Aloha" shirt there and was disappointed they didn't have any more.

I made the mistake of saying that perhaps they'd taken all the really good stuff and moved it to the new Costco that opened this week up the road in Buford. I blinked and before I knew it, we were in the car, headed to Buford.

Hubby found another one of his shirts and I found a bottle of 10 year old tawny port wine I'd been wanting for a recipe.

THREE warehouse clubs in a single day! That's got to be a record--at least for us.

Where do you like to shop? What's your favorite store and why?