Yankees 8, Red Sox 3

It's been a bizarro kind of year for the Yanks, that's fer shitsure. I've personally seen them beat the Sox twice at home (unheard of for yours truly!) and also watched 'em lose at Fenway (first time for me). Oh yeah, they're also under .500, but let's not talk about that.

AWESOME seats tonight, courtesy of my date. Just a few rows off the field, a little bit past the visitors' dugout. A-Rod was within spitting distance.

We placed our food & drinks order asap-- around the top of the second inning. Our booty didn't arrive until the 6th. I was "ready to eat just about anything" by the time my Premio sausage finally showed up, and "anything" was a perfect description of the pathetic dog. Didn't matter-- I would've eaten three if they'd let me.

Couple of ridiculous Boston fans sitting in front of us that may have stepped right out of the Good Will Hunting DVD. They tried to act tough, but were more Dead Poets Society than anything else. And I don't think either one of them will be caught scribbling a ring theory proof in the hallways of MIT any time soon. And certainly won't be banging J-Lo either. I hated the fucking jerks.

Farnsworth needs to be slapped around by somebody. Not me.