Matt Cadd spent Sundays catching up on sleep. On the seventh day, one rested. At least for a while. When evening came, duty called.
Shower. Shave. Coffee. Food. Cigarette.
He was at the rendezvous when they'd said--exactly nine p.m. Then he remembered, one hour too late.
Daylight Savings Time.
Fifty years of this crap.
Son of Bleah
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*NYY 3 SF 1*
After getting shut out *3-0* on Friday (on one hit) the Giants made it a
little more competitive today. The result was the same, however. T...
20 hours ago
1 comment:
'...one hour too late....' -- that is VERY noir -- truly. And I laughed out loud (bitterly, of course...mmnph) at, 'Fifty years of this crap.' -- I do know the feeling. Thanks, Matt, for an entertaining start to the week. You're The Best -- but you knew that.
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