BTW, tried to cell in a blog entry from Fenway, but it obviously didn't work. Here's the skinny: Went to Fenway, sat on the RF line, cheered Damon initially to say thanks, then booed him as a traitor. (Seems to be a pattern in my life.) Sox won, I was the king of Boston for a few hours, then came back to dull as dishwater Monmouth County. There's a lot of money around here, and a lot of poverty. But very little excitement. Maybe that's why I try to stir the pot now and then. Just to make things un-quaint and un-hella-boring.
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