Because of me ma (pronounced like Brad Pitt in Snatch), I got to miss the entirety of yesterday's not-so-fun game.  Nothing quite like having a team in for a series, take the first one and having aspirations of sweeping the series, then aspirations of winning the series, then have your hopes and dreams crushed, like a cigarette beneath the stiletto of the Russian spy-ess. 

Left-handers, SuSlu says, are the bane of the A's existence.  Regardless, I thank me ma for not having to watch that abomination of what most of us consider baseball.

Braden, yesterday's bright spot, apparently isn't broken.  Plus we earned the love of an 80's icon:

Everyone was amazed he stayed in today, including Toronto manager Cito Gaston who said, "That showed me something."

We've got the day off today and CANNOT lose.  I mean, unless Herr Selig declares a forfeit for past crimes, presumably RyRy being all jacked up on Jarlsburg.

(at this point, a confession: I've held my head in the sand regarding PEDs and have replaced all reports of anyone using PEDs with thoughts of them abusing massive quantities of cheese).

1.  A Google search of Manny Ramirez and cheese turns up this interesting story.   I recently spent a night at Chuck E's and must say that the gangster quotient was quite high for a kid's place.  But...gangster got kids too, so...I doubt that Bradenton is nearly as troublesome as the midwest versions...

2.  A search of Jason Giambi and cheese gives us this look at an eclectic collection of baseball cards, featuring Wade Boggs (whose number is retired here in "Tampa," though they play in St. Pete) sporting a killer porn stash and a pretty sweet shot of JG about to crush one.

3.  Interestingly enough, a search of Bobby Crosby and cheese produces just  this.

And just 'cause I'm addicted and can't stop listening.

If you haven't yet read Taj Adib's "Just a Few Gripes" post, it's worth it.  Feel free to disagree with him, but please tell him why...AND, he's got an interesting way of numbering.

Dump monkeys, dump!