J/K. I don't follow baseball. Not that I wouldn't want to, but growing up in a pro-sportless state has left me lacking in that department (although, I can get behind the Sooners with no problem). While in the northeast, I went to a few Mets and Yankees games here and there and enjoyed myself quite a lot, but a smattering of games does not a fan make. I don't even know what team I'd go for. I suppose I could entertain the Yankees, Mets, Red Sox, Rangers, Royals or Cardinals due to geographical relevance to my life.
Speaking of cardinals, there are a lot of things I don't understand - fat free sour cream, Rockport shoes, why people watch Deal Or No Deal, John Mayer and J. Simp, or just John Mayer in general. Most of all, though, I don't understand taxidermy. I was hanging out in a 7th grade science class the other day teaching the kiddies about minerals and shit when I started to look around the room and damn! There were freaking dead animals everywhere! I am not ok with that. Sure, I'll eat them, but that's where I want my relationship with dead animals to end.
[an aside - once, long ago, before I was allowed to have a dog and by allow I mean I brought it home and told the parents I found the pup on the side of the road, then promptly ran away to NYC and left them the dog to raise, which they now love more than me, but that's another therapy session. Right, so I had a pet mouse named Taffy, after my great grandparents cocker spaniel. I made a leash for Taffy out of yarn. I would walk her along my sidewalk desperately hoping she would suddenly turn into a dog. She never did. Also, L-Ma and I use to tie yarn across the posts of my bed and make Taffy tightrope walk. L-Ma should not be allowed to have pets, although, she wants a cat and will name it Paula Deen, which I think is pretty much the best cat name ever. Oh right, so I had this phase were I videotaped everything (i.e. talk shoes, music videos, rollerskating performances, etc) and needed to shoot footage of my mouse for some reason, so I go to her cage, zoom in and realize, much to my horror, that she was, in fact, dead. Oh the tragedy. I dropped the camera (all 50 pounds of it - it was the kind that had a VHS tape in it!) and fell to the floor wailing. Awesome.]
Needless to say, these lifeless creatures adorning the classroom walls with glassy eyed death freaked me the fuck out. Furthermore, who grows up thinking they want to be a taxidermist? And, does it pay well? I'm not really set in a career yet.
Ok, see what I mean? Creep factor 5000.
In a related story, there was a chinchilla. A live one. It was the softest thing ever! I want one. I would name it Bobby Flay.