2 PARTS WATER, 3 PARTS HORSE

I had a dream last night that I was appointed head coach of the Toronto Maple Leafs. It was one of those where I was really excited but then it dawned on me that I had no business being there and that I'd never coached a game in my life. I even had trouble remembering who was on the team. I had a similar dream once when I somehow got into the Beastie Boys. Why would they hire me?


Let's discuss this for a second. What would my actual dream job be? I'm more or less a traditionalist, so rock star and king are definitely up there. I've thought more and more about becoming a beach bum, but for that lifestyle I'd need to learn some patience and maybe get a dirty old dog - two things I'm not entirely down with. Patience is important because you need to be able to lie on the beach for hours on end. I can usually last an hour tops doing that but then I get restless and want a burger, because California has some really good burgers and that's the place whose beach bum culture I enjoy the most. Florida's is too old and everywhere else is too European. I need a beach where people go because they skip school or work because they want to surf surf instead of going because they just worked out and want to see what people think or their arms, legs, tits or butts. A beach guy needs a dirty old dog just because. Don't question it. Why do ballplayers chew tobacco? Who knows? Why do homeboys carry towels around? Who knows? Why do hippies like tie dyed shirts? Because they look totally groovy man.


Despite the nip of Jack Frost's icicle claws on my damn face, I'm still riding my bike to work and around town. There's really only one reason for this: I'm cheap. I figure I can endure a little cold and save the $2.75 each way. I'd be more down with transit if we had a zone system as it doesn't make sense for me to pay the same amount as someone coming from Kipling when I live down the street. Plus, it means I can save money to buy some kicking new threads: New snowboard jacket, Timberland boots, sheepskin mitts, FUBU hat (?) Is that stuff still around?

Some guy just called me and was like "This is Jeff from the Toronto Blue Jays" and for a second I thought my dreams were about to come true. But instead of saying "We'd like you to be our manager this season" he said, "How did you enjoy your '08 Season Pass?" I told him I liked it but didn't want to commit to renewing at this juncture. Are crank calls still in? Back in my teenage days it was so much easier because only millionaires had call display. They had call display, the internet, a laser disc player, and one of those big TVs that take up the entire room.

I don't know guys, my heart's not in it today. I kept trying to think of some silly anecdotes but none came to mind. I really wanted to explore my cheapness some more but I would've came off sounding like either a miser or some guy who says things like "I don't fund large corporations man, fight the system yeah". I must be somewhere in between those two. I want a burrito so bad right now. Cheese, guacamole, chicken, sauces, ingredios. Oh baby. First one to bring me a burrito will win a 2008 Blue Jays Season Pass, autographed by me, a pair of cool gloves with the fingers cut off and a Snapple. The second person to bring me a burrito will win 20 dollars and the hardiest handshake you've ever seen.