A word about Wrigley's obstacle course

Michael Bourn is a back-up Phillies outfielder and spark plug who came into the game against the Cubs last night to replace started Shane Victorino, who strained his calf.

Why is OMS covering sports today? Because of Michael Bourn.

See, Mr. Bourn jetted after a fly ball that landed right next to the Phillies bullpen and the stands. The bullpen, on the field but not (it's located a mere inches away from the foul line) caused one of the most gruesome freak injuries we've ever seen on a field.

Bourn, at full tilt, stumbled when the ground elevated *before* the foul line. He tripped on the line (which is why we always hop over it when taking the field -- respect the foul line, y'all), then planted his other foot on the bullpen mound, and then he tumbled, as the sportscaster noted, like a horse stumbling before the finish line.

Granted, Phillies legendary announcer Harry Kalas probably called the foul ball a home run, but that's another story for another day.

Point is, why is the field elevated *before* the actual bullpen, and tell us again why the bullpen is located in foul territory? Yes, we know Wrigley is historical and an institution. But they used to have day games only, and then they installed lights. We used to have a mullet in 1987.

And we know they fixed the clock after Roy Hobbs destroyed it in The Natural.

Things change.

Watching Bourn last night was more than cringeworthy. And it's certainly something that shouldn't happen again. Oh. And the Phillies, who we refuse to believe in because their manager is an idiot and our favorite player is on the DL, beat the Cubs behind a fantastic effort from stud Cole Hamels and are only three games behind the Mets.

Finally, COMING UP ON SPORTSCENTER, MORE WHO'S NOW? Our panel of blowhards will analyze Michael Bourn and the Right Field Foul Line at Wrigley, right after several commercials that sponsor this senseless dialogue about a back-up player and plush Chicago grass.

PS: Things we do not care about. At all.

In no particular order:

1. Barry Bonds and the perpetual non-stop coverage of his every swing. We never rooted so hard for A-Rod, who we despise, in our lives. Keep hitting those home runs, A-Rod. Cleanly. We hope you hit 900 and take away the tarnished "record" from the fraud in 'Frisco, should he hit two more home runs, which he will.

2. We didn't see The Simpsons Movie this weekend, and we probably won't. Same with the Harry Potter. Haven't read a book, won't be reading a book. He's a wizard. We get it.

3. We did buy the Farce of the Penguins yesterday because it was on sale. We barely made it 20 minutes before deciding to go running in the rain.

4. More rain today. We used to let this sh*t get us down. But no more. What's a little thunderstorm for the third day in a row plus a full moon plus a squeaky car wheel plus a squeaky car radi-- oh sh*t, we're doomed. Oh woe is us.

We like Texxxus better up there.

Um, memo to Brit: Please put clothes on.

There's a time in all of our lives where a li'l modesty and coyness might help our collective images. We used to walk around naked when we were 4 years old. Then we realized we were showing our junk and we were 4. We tried this again when we were 19 because frat boys do the strangest things.

Thankfully, it was just a stage. But you Brit, well, we worry. Clothes. Now. Please. And oh with the stripper polls.

Oh with the Little Children

So we watched the Little Children on the On Demand tonight after our run. We even had, GASP, a bowl of ice cream for the first time in two months because daggumit we've been busting our ass to get ourselves in shape.

But we digress.

The Little Children would be a fantastic movie, save for the random and weirdly placed narration. We get that the movie was more than likely trying to stay true to a book we never read, but really with the narration? There were several pregnant pauses when we started narrating for the narrator -- which is never a good sign.

Still, Jesus Kate Winslet is one of the best actresses of our generation, and not just because she gets absolutely railed in the downstairs laundry room. And Jackie Earle Haley certainly deserved the hype last year for his performance.

But back to the narration. You know when you're eating your Peanut Butter Cup ice cream and savoring the moment and looking at Kate Winslet's t*ts and all of a sudden some random voice starts telling you what Kate Winslet is thinking as she pushes her daughter on the swing next to the DILF?

We get the same feeling of angst when we watch the Sports Center and the senseless, absolutely senseless, WHO'S NOW segment comes on. You know, the one where overzealous blowhards in pimp suits dissect an athlete's *impact* on society. Um. The only *impact* we care about is did they win the effing game and, if so, how did they do it?

So tonight, before the Little Children watching, we caught the Sports Center. Our role for WHO'S NOW is anytime it comes on, we change the channel because the segment, and the idea, is, in a word, ass.

But we did learn that the finals of the WHO'S NOW comes down to Tiger Woods, whom one anchor acually called T-DUBYA, versus Peyton Manning, and LeBron James vs. Shaq. We'd pay to see that sh*t in an octagon, or even a pool with Jackie Earle Haley in scuba gear, but we won't, because WHO'S NOW simply does not matter.

It is yet another way for ESPN to put itself over at the expense of game. Pick a game, any of them. Played on a field or court or track. Where athletes bleed and sweat to win. WHO'S NOW doesn't matter. Who wins, or even loses, does.

Yes. We just compared a dark chick flick to ESPN. It's there. Just follow along.

Rooney Sees Red at Crossroads

We were lucky enough to catch good friends Rooney Sees Red last night in North Jersey. Good stuff, this acoustic duo. The lead singer is a dreamboat and the lead guitarist is so a player.

Setlist?

Touch
Butterfly Tattoo
Look to You
No Rain
Sunday at the Office
Wastin' Days
Folsom Prison Blues
*Hockey Skates

The boys haven't played Hockey Skates in like six months, but it came together when JZ remembered to plug his guitar back in. Folsom kicked country ass, and Sunday at the Office made several friends/fans/moms cry -- always the sign of good times.

RSR asked OMS to thank those who did come out. Not only did you line their pockets with monetary goodness, they also had pretty much the best night ever.

More from Hugh Prather

"Fear is often an indication I am avoiding myself."

We used to be somebody

Express Check-out Chick: (Fumbles with shorts, can't get price to register).
OMS: That means it's free, right?
ECC: (Still fumbles).
OMS: Nothin'?
ECC: I get that a lot.
OMS: Oh. (We) think (we're) hysterical.
ECC: It's funny, but I get it a lot.
OMS: Fu-hu-hu-huuuck. (We) need new material. Damnit.
ECC: Now you're making me feel bad. It was funny.
OMS: No. It's OK. (We'll) be funnier next time.
ECC/OMS: Have a good night.
OMS: (Walks away, smirking).
ECC: Jinx. (Looks up, kind of smiles, looks back down as OMS walks away).
OMS, a second later, to himself: Sh*t. "Jinx" was funny.

You were what, now?

(We needed something to cheer us up because Chase Utley has a broken hand and could be out either three weeks or for quite some time. Awesome. Our favorite player, an MVP candidate, out right when he was on fire).

Well, at least he wasn't robbed by two men.

Did we mention we cannot get enough of the Hugh Prather and his helpful wisdom?

We're reading "Notes to Myself: My Struggle to Become a Person." HEY. Quiet, you. It's not like we're all scientologized and what not. Ahem. Back to the book:

My trouble is I analyze life instead of live it.

Right? We were just thinking about this today. Again.

Much better

BORI-- um, we mean. So nice to see someone with their sh*t together for a change.


Oh. And to clarify the three did time photo below, we'd so "talk off her ears" was the answer. That Lohan needs a talkin' to.

From the AP:

Lohan, 21, was arrested early Tuesday in Santa Monica and released on bail for investigation of misdemeanor driving under the influence and with a suspended license, and felony cocaine possession.

"I am innocent... did not do drugs they're not mine. I was almost hit by my assistant Tarin's mom I appreciate everyone giving me my privacy," Lohan wrote in an e-mail to "Access Hollywood" host Billy Bush, the show reported on its Web site Tuesday night.

Police found cocaine in one of the actress' pockets during a pre-booking search, Sgt. Shane Talbot said. Police initially said Lohan was also being booked for investigation of transporting a narcotic but later said she was not.

Here endeth our coverage of the Lindsay Lohan legacy. It's gotten, um, old. Real fast. But hey! Anne Hathaway! You seem nice and pretty!

OH!

So we held the door for Frank Vincent, Joe Pesci and another fella in our dream last night as we walked into a restaurant.

"How you been?" Vincent asked.

"Good," we said. "Whatareyagonnado?"

"That's right, kid," he said. "It is what it is."

Pesci didn't say anything to us, other than, "OH! Let's get in and eat and enough with the small talk wit dis guy here."

We'd still hit the one on the _ _ _ _...

And do _ _ _ _ off her _ _ _ _!

We haven't really seen this, either

From Gannett News Service and our local paper:

Don't have a cow, man! But, are you ready for the movie?

As the world prepares for the debut of "The Simpsons Movie" on July 27, we've prepped some trivia for you to throw out at life's cosmic cocktail party.

Question: Who is the mastermind behind "The Simpsons?"

Answer: Matt Groening.

This Portland, Ore., native first gained recognition for his comic book and strip "Life in Hell," which appears in 250 newspapers nationwide. This led to his first animated work, "The Simpsons," and subsequently to "Futurama." He was creator and executive producer of both Fox animated series. Groening continues his work on "The Simpsons," including serving as a writer on the upcoming film. He also oversees all licensing and merchandising of "The Simpsons."

Groening and fellow writer James L. Brooks have been rather tight-lipped about the plot of the up-coming movie. According to IMDB.com, though, here's a peek at the storyline: "Homer mistakenly pollutes the river with toxic waste from the power plant, he loses his job and forces evacuation from Springfield, possibly forever."

Q: When did "The Simpsons" get its big break?

A: "The Simpsons" began as a two-minute short on "The Tracy Ullman Show" in 1987. The 30-minute series debuted on Fox in December 1989.

Q: Who are the voices of the lovable Simpson clan?

A: Homer (voiced by Dan Castellaneta) and Marge (Julie Kavner) head the family of three children: Bart (Nancy Cartwright), Lisa (Yeardley Smith) and Maggie.

Q: How long have "The Simpsons" been on TV?

A: The animated show is currently America's longest running sitcom and is broadcast in 45 languages. The 400th episode aired in May, as the show celebrated its 20th anniversary. The popular program returns for its 19th season on Sept. 23.

Pop culture expert Robert Thompson, head of Syracuse University's Center for the Study of Popular Television, was quoted by CNN.com in 2003 as saying "The Simpsons" is "among the best comic American art of any medium," up there with Charlie Chaplin, Mark Twain, the Marx Brothers and "Peanuts."

Q: How many awards has the show has racked up?

A: The show has enjoyed 90 wins in various entertainment awards competitions, including multiple Emmys. "The Simpsons" had their star added to the Hollywood Walk of Fame in 2000.

Q: Which celebrity guests have appeared over the years?

A: The show is famous for the celebrity guest voices, which have included: The Beatles' George Harrison, Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr, Johnny Carson, Meryl Streep, Dustin Hoffman, the Rolling Stones, R.E.M., Tony Bennett, Phil Hartman, Kelsey Grammer, Jon Lovitz and Eric Idle.

As the world? Huh. Guess we're not part of it. We've seen maybe three episodes in their entirety -- and one of them was in German. We're, um, not scheduled to be part of the world this weekend. Between Harry Potter and Homer Simpson, we feel, um, not cool.

Or does this make us cool?

Huh. Quite the quandry.

We're so out of the loop.

Pssst. Hey. You over there. Want to hear a secret? Pssst. We never read a Harry Potter book, and we saw half of one of the movies once when we went home to visit. So when Harry Potter questions appear in the crossword puzzle, we're f*cked. Or when Harry Potter news stories appear *everywhere* for a week, we, um, don't get it.

And we feel kind of ostracized and alone.

But we don't have to stand in ridiculous lines and we sleep at night, so maybe that's the trade off.

Wow! Drew Carey was there! He's not funny!

So folks ask us all the time but not really why we get so annoyed with professional sports in America. Um. Here are some reasons, and we'll use last night's exhibition match between Chelsea and the Galaxy to illustrate our slightly hungover points.

1. Beckham, who is good, didn't start. ESPN, which is not, still ran 68 packages on him before the game.

2. Chelsea, which is very good, won the game. Of course. ESPN, which had Bonnie Bernstein on celebrity duty, ran nothing on CFC, one of the best soccer clubs in the world.

3. Celebrity duty. Oh our God with the shots of Posh and Eva and Joey Potter in the box, and the interviews with Drew Carey and the Governor of Caleefornya. Can we just watch the game without being reminded that sometimes no-talent ass clowns win life and get all its spoils?

4. Anyone not seeing the heroic come-into-the-game-with-10-minutes-left moment coming? You didn't? You must not have been watching the Beckham Cam. Hey look! He's sitting! Look! Look! He's taking off his shoe!

We're excited that Becks is here, don't get us wrong. But, well, can we turn down the dramatic hype machine? Jesus. We long for the time when the actual game provided the, gasp, entertainment.

Lisa better run for the hills

So we hit one of our Top 5 favorite bars of all time last night. It's on the list because we always get a seat at the bar, they pour a very nice Black and Blue, and their sandwich, the Dublin Chicken, makes us very, very happy. But we digress.

We walk in and *no one* is there. Well, folks are there, but just not a lot of them. This kind of makes us happier than the chicken sandwich makes us. So we sit down, order our food and drink, and start watching the Yankee thrashing (losing 9-0 in the sixth against the Devil Rays? Oof).

Then we notice that everyone at the bar is a gentleman. "Huh," we think to ourselves. "Maybe it's Gay Night."

"... And that's the thing about those gays," we hear the man two guys down from us say, loudly, to his friend. "It's unnatural. Think about it. Does God really want men to be f*cking other men? I don't think so."

The man certainly had our attention. So we listened for the next 18 minutes as he drunkenly made point after misguided point.

"I think it's a disease."

"They just need some counseling."

"It's not right, gays."

"What it be OK for you to f*ck a dog?"

Now, we listen/people watch at bars all the damn time. We like to think we're really good at it. In this case, we wanted to join the discussion or beat this idiot with a stick (or our junk), but we couldn't think of the best way. As we sat there, we came up with several different approaches we could use.

1. "Say, do you really hate gays so much or are you just really, really repressed and you really, really want to nibble on a man thigh?"

2. "Hey, please shut the f*ck up with your nonsense. (We're) trying to watch the ballgame."

3. "You know what (we) could go for right now? A nice, big, fat, c*ck."

4. "Excuse me. (We're) straight. But after listening to you, (we) think we might want to try this evil homosexuality just to see if it clicks. Men do smell nice and some of them have really, really nice abs. Wow. Now that (we) think about it, we'd f*ck T.R. Knight or Doogie. They both have such great eyes, you know?"

5. "Is it really a disease or is it simply a choice? Are 'the gays' really hurting you when you think about it? Are they? God, you make (us) want to curb you like Edward Norton Jr. in that movie."

When he went to the bathroom, we actually thought about following him and coming on to him, just to see if he'd be game.

When he came back, he mentioned camping. But he didn't think Laurie and Lisa should come along -- no, he thought the best experience would be he and his friend, in the wilderness. Together.

He also said he joined a private gun club.

"Ask me how many times I've gone?" he said.

"None," we muttered, taking a bite of our scrumptious but slightly overcooked chicken.

"Two," his friend said.

"NONE!" gay-gun club camper said. "Can you believe that?"

"Yes," we muttered, somewhat audibly.

"No," his friend said. "We'd you join, then?"

"So I can SHOOT sh*t!" he said. "When my dad died, he left me his gun collection. So I have all of his ammo and I like to shoot it."

"What types of guns?" his friend said.

"Oh man, there's too many to name. One of them is a .44 magnum, though. I'm like John Wayne with it. We should go to the gun club sometime. It'd be real fun."

"Let's go tomorrow," his friend said.

"Oh. I can't. Lisa and I have that picnic. But we'll go soon."

Still shocked by the loud diatribe against the gays, we watched as the two pals paid their bill and decided where to go next.

"Where are you parked?" douchebag said. "Why don't we just go for a walk while we figure out where to hit next?"

The weekend can only get better. We hope.

Did we mention we cannot get enough of these two lads? (And that we're sad that Rocky hasn't come back since yesterday morning?)

Modicum, in a word

Yeah. We're sort of at less than zero, but whatevs. It'll come.

We named him Rocky

So around the Fourth of July, Rocky walked casually into our apartment because we often leave the porch door wide the eff open, white-trash style like everyone else in the neighborhood.

Rocky looked at us, paused, and decided to find an easier way to come into the ol' apartment. Oh. And we started keeping the door shut all the damn time.

So this morning, Ol' Sick Stomach woke up to the sound of someone breaking into his apartment. We walked into the living room, and there's Rocky, sticking his snout through a small hole in the screen. "Shoo," we said. "Shoo."

And then we shut the storm window.

We like Rocky. But he is kind of a, well, rodent.

Oh with the young love

Overheard Saturday morning around 2ish...

Girl, staggering behind staggering boyfriend: Where are you going? Seriously? You told me to come with you and I'm coming with you. Why are you walking away from me? Why are you WALKING AWAY FROM ME? What are you-- are you peeing?

In the guy's defense, he was kind of walking up the side of the hill and toward shrubbery at 2 a.m., which means either curtains for drunk girl or he had to handle his bidness.

"Dr. King is my favorite"

When one has, um, stomach issues that knock him the eff out, one should definitely watch the Cruel Intentions on the On Demand. We had a whole new post this morning about the hotness that is Selma Blair in this movie -- and Reese's pretty blue one-piece -- but blogger was acting icky.

Sort of like how we feel. And HEY! Speaking of sick, thanks for the Fiddle for once again bringing our attention to good, good stuff. If y'all think we have commitment issues, think again. At least we ain't all up in some doll's bidness (SFW, sort of):

There's *nothing* to see here. Seriously.

We know. We're a day late. But it's timely, because, well, fewer teens are having sex!

WASHINGTON (AP) -- Fewer high school students are having sex these days, and more are using condoms. The teen birth rate has hit a record low.

More young people are finishing high school, too, and more little kids are being read to, according to the latest government snapshot on the well-being of the nation's children. It's good news on a number of key wellness indicators, experts said of the report being released Friday.

"The implications for the population are quite positive in terms of their health and their well-being," said Edward Sondik, director of the National Center for Health Statistics. "The lower figure on teens having sex means the risk of sexually transmitted diseases is lower."

So thank you, Miss New Jersey, for keeping your pants on. With role models like you -- wait. Wow. It might really be time to retire this thing. *This* is the best we have? Oof. Hack Joke Alert. Wow. So, um, make you're own punchline, y'all.

Because 2 out of our 5 readers love them

You're welcome, Jim.

So you know in Rocky IV when Rocky is all "I'm running up this mountain and f*ck Drago and I miss Mickey and Apollo"?

Yeah, so we're running tonight in this God-awful heatwave because it's almost 7 and it's got to cool off. As we ended the run, uphill no less in the sweltering non-nivious conditions, "Hearts on Fire" came on the workout mix.

So we thought of that scene, where ol' Rock in his sweat leather jacket and wooly cap conquers that random mountain in Siberia or wherever the f*ck.

And we finish strong. Arms, yes, pumping. Legs actually moving. And we feel good. No. Eff that. We feel great. We're in shape almost and really, really content -- and we're sprinting up the hill with the last verse.

We burst through the finish just as the song finished and WHAM, we done dry-heaved for the first time in our life.

Yes. We almost, um, vomitted/vomited. We never vomit. We never, ever vomit. Over anything. Proof? We still don't know if the past tense has two Ts are not. And it's on the list of words we can't use in certain company, right next to "moist."

And we don't want to look it up because we don't want to think about it anymore.

So we did it just once. And then we walked. For like another half-hour, just to cool down and make sure no other random body rebellions would kick in.

And then we drank water. A sh*tload of water.

Good story, no? Let's never talk about it again.

Some words about the Live Earth

In no particular order:

* It. Was. Hot. There's no better way to explain the consequences of Global Warming than to have it on one of the hottest days of the year. Granted, it was a sunny day in July, but whatevs.

* Alicia Keys was the hottest thing on the planet on Saturday. For Ms. Keys and other fine performers, click here. Oh our goodness with the "Gimme Shelter."

* We also recommend anything Ludacris did, and the entire Mayer, DMB, Alicia, Police and Bon Jovi sets.

* Ah, Bon Jovi. The boys definitely turned in the best show of the day. They did have home field advantage, but still. Bon effing Jovi.

* The Police opened with "Driven to Tears," which made us very, very happy. The Police pretty much shredded their set. It's, like we love to say, they never left.

* Melissa Etheridge, who looks, from section 315, like either Tom Petty, an adult Jan Brady or John Denver without his specs, is a f*cking preacher and seriously, we tapped out about 10 minutes into her set. We would have tapped out earlier, but we were in shock. It's when people preach in an overly condescending and bitter way when the audience may tune said preacher out. Memo to Melissa: Next time more with the "Come To My Window" and less with the "If I can change, and youse can change, then we can change! And I just want to say to my kid back home, yo kid, I did it!"

* Memo to the 14-year-old drunk in front of us at the Mrs. Field's Cookies stand: Look, sweetie, when the Mrs. Field's Cookies sign doesn't help you, try looking at the counter to see all the Mrs. Field's Cookies in front of you before asking the very patient vendor, "What type of food do you have here?"

* We've never seen Dave Matthews not play guitar, but when his guitar sounded a bit off, he ditched it and stood at the mic playing what was fantastic air guitar. They easily had the second-best set, beat by the Bon Jovi only because it was Jersey.

* Speaking of, there is nothing more annoying than celeb after celeb coming on stage and saying, "What's up New York!" when the show was in NEW JERSEY. Thank goodness for Zach Braff, who'll be Govnah of this fine state someday. He started a reverse trend. If we were to take the stage someday at the Madison Square Garden, the first order of bidness will be to ask, "What's up New Jersey?"

* Smashing Pumpkins were OK. We'll leave it at that. It's certainly not 1998 anymore, though.

* Akon is quite the shirtless performer.

* We loved watching the 16-year-old stoner chicks and their boyfriend trying to figure out life while listening to Roger Waters sing "Dark Side of the Moon."

* Mayer kicked ass. As did Keith Urban. And Alicia. And Kelly. And pretty much everyone after 4:30 p.m. except for the Smashing of the Pumpkins.

All in all, good times. We know y'all were dying to know.

And for the record, we hope the emails stop.

Thank you so much for being part of Live Earth. Millions of people attended the concerts and the 10,000+ "Friends of Live Earth" events and house parties in 195 countries. Millions of people watched or heard the event online, on TV, or on the radio. Millions pledged to change their own actions and hold our leadership accountable.

You're part of an incredible worldwide movement - the moment when the world came together to demand solutions to the climate crisis. You can help us spread the word -please forward this email to five of your friends and ask them to sign onto the Live Earth Pledge at: www.liveearthpledge.org.

Together we will solve the climate crisis.

We're all for changing the world, but, um, we kind of just wanted to see a kick-ass lineup play a kick-ass show. We did recycle and car pool, though, and OMS maybe left a bit of sandwich in a tree for the squirrels. So there's that.

Old Man Sass

Pisces: There are many flirtatious comments floating around you today, but most of them are much too ambiguous to take seriously. Of course, if you listen to your bolder half, you won't let that stop you! You're feeling so silly and sassy that you are totally ready to take any opportunity available to flirt away. Feel free to up the ante and make saucy connections with a new person on the scene. They will receive your overture well, and give you a sweet bunch of flirty sass right back!

Off to Live Earth, y'all. We'd blog about it, but we're still trying to figure out how The Fall Out Boys aren't closing that shiznit. The Po-who, now? ;-)

(We just winky-faced in a blog entry. Hells yeah we're gettin' our flirt on today).

Sooo much funnier than the Dawson's Creek

We have new heroes.

There's no place like home

Hope y'all had a happy and safe and dry and drunk Fourth of July. We looked at pictures of Lohan on the internets and then watched the Knocked Up and if y'all thought the crush on Katie Heigl was bad before, just imagine how we felt when she breached. Then with the nice dinner with friends and the not drinking, and the watching the Season Four premiere of Six Feet on the On Demand and writing a song.

Good times.

Quoting Hugh Prather

We said we're digging the "I Touch the Earth, the Earth Touches Me," right?

There were seventy-five people in the lobby and only a seven-year-old girl was finding out what it was like to sit on a marble floor.

We know exactly what it means.

So in our dream, which we just woke up from mere moments ago, we're golfing with a good friend of ours. The following things happened:

1. We drove a ball into the lake. We wanted to stay dry, but the good friend insisted on driving the cart into the water to look for the ball.

2. We told him we'd drive him close to the water so we could stay dry. We got to the water's edge, voila, the cart tipped into the water, our good friend managed to stay on land, and we went headfirst into the marsh. But we found the ball.

3. We went to the next hole, but the friend tapped out and now we were golfing with our old man, who's really not that old. He ordered a beer and a hot dog while we waited to tee off. We won't mention that he didn't ask us if we wanted anything. Oops. We already did.

4. The beer girl flirted with us, but when we talked to her, she disappeared.

5. We waited behind three foursomes, even though no one was on the course when we golfed with our good friend on the last hole. Guess finding the ball took hours in dream time, even though it felt like seconds.

6. Finally, we tee off.

7. We grab our five-wood and tee the ball up perfectly.

8. But it wasn't perfect.

9. A crowd gathered as we continually teed up the ball, addressed it, and then teed it up again.

10. At one point, we tried balancing the ball on our old man's beer cup while standing on a bed.

11. Finally. The ball is perfect. But Martina McBride is singing about 25 feet in front of us, and we don't want to kill Martina McBride with our drive.

12. "Um. Martina?" we asked nicely, almost whispering.

13. SHHHHHHHH! said the crowd.

14. Martina finished the song, turned to us, smiled and wished us luck, and we were back at the tee again.

15. "Here. Put this on," our old man said, handing us a Pittsburgh Steelers helmet.

16. We didn't wanna. But we did.

17. So finally, we address the ball, again. We stand on the bed, look down at the ball from beneath our Steelers helmet, and, it turns out, a sweet Ben Roethlisberger jersey, and we start our backswing.

18. We wake up.

Fun dream interpretation later! In the meantime, you negative-seven readers take a crack at it!

In the oldern days, we would have viewed this as a wasted night, and we maybe would have been somewhat sad and annoyed

Actual thought last night -- a Saturday night -- while contemplating hitting the bars or staying in: "Damnit. 'Can't Hardly Wait' is over."

Then, seconds later: "F*ck yeah it's on again at 10. Sweet."