Recently, I took an informal poll. I asked roughly forty women if they would rather have a boy or a girl (if they could only have one child) and all but five said that they would rather have a boy. They then listed several reasons why it is better to have a boy than a girl. And I came to the following conclusion: women hate themselves.

The Cubs swept the Cardinals this weekend. I just want to take this opportunity to thank my four Cub fan “friends” for calling me and rubbing it in my face. In case you’re wondering (and I know you’re not), The Nate Way definition of a sports rivalry is: any meeting between two teams that causes grown men to call each other just to talk smack. Oh yeah, to Frank, Bryan, Tom and Dave: I really didn’t hang up on each and every one of you. Really, my cell phone’s been having service problems ever since Jacque Jones’ grand slam. Just one of those things.

The best thing about being an umpire is the extra cash. The worst thing is actually a toss-up between jock itch and living off hot dogs, hamburgers and French fries.

So, I was talking to this really big fat guy. And he was asking me a lot of personal questions about why it is that I drink so much. Now, keep in mind, I didn’t know this dude from Adam, Eve, Beelzebub, Larry, Curly or Moe and I had just met him in a bar. He said that he could tell that I drank too much because everyone in the bar knew my name. He said that was proof positive that I had a problem. So, I said the following to him: “You know, sometimes I see really fat people and I wonder how they got that huge and why they didn’t stop at say, thirty pounds overweight. Then I wonder how they have sex or sit on airplanes. Then I laugh because fat people are funny in a really gross kind of way.” He left shortly thereafter. My friend Brandi said that it was mean of me to talk to the chubby, nosy, judgmental dude like that. I told her that it wasn’t my fault. It was the booze talking. Like most of my stories, this one has no moral or point. But you probably knew that by now.

You know your car is filthy when rain cleans it.

If I were a hired killer, I’d probably be a lot richer and work a lot less. But I think we all know that the downside doesn’t make the gig worth it. I mean, all that traveling just wouldn’t suit me. Oh, and the whole “killing people” thing would probably suck too.

And finally, because it’s Monday and logic and fluidity don’t check in around these parts until Tuesday morning at the earliest, I leave you with the following, which I overheard at a local ballpark.

“That team would be a hell of a lot better if the players were any good.”

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