Philadelphia Phillies: Is it Time for a Bryce Harper Tattoo?

I've been watching the internet for any sign that this is an April Fool's joke. 

Three consecutive days of waking up in a euphoric Philly time loop has completely healed the carnage caused by Us.

I haven't slept since seeing the trailer.

The Phillies lineup, a musical hopscotch of righty, righty, lefty; righty, righty, lefty, is coming together like the chorus line from Newsies. And fans are screen-shotting the National League standings at MLB.com for their profile pics. 

Or that's just me.

My dog is even happy. She hasn't snapped at anyone in 24 hours. Or maybe that's because we took her to my in-laws where Aunt Lisa fried her a steak. 

I wish I was kidding.

Even Gabe Kapler was celebrating. I swear I saw him smile. 

Then Rhys Hoskins got clipped. He's another broken jaw away from his goal weight. But he'll have to try Weight Watchers until May because as much as Shane Carle wanted him uncomfortable at the plate, I don't think he planned for the pain to linger. 

We'll see in the rematch.

The Phillie Phanatic paid homage to Bryce Harper's act of cleat respect. If you missed it, on Opening Day, Harp honored Philly by bedazzling his fluorescent cleats with the Phanatic's likeness. So on Sunday, the mascot pranced around the stadium with Harp's face tattooed on his shoes.

You don't want to know where I have mine. 

My husband doesn't either. 

Whoops. Now he probably will. 

I'll admit, I needed this sweep. With the heartwarming retirement of Ichiro Suzuki immortalized in history, I needed something else to sink my teeth into.

I'm still bitter about that steak. 

If you want to witness a life worth living, go to #MLB開幕戦.

Sixty-five years of video are uploaded to YouTube every day. Last Tuesday, my first movie ever made that 65 years, 1 minute and 11 seconds. This is what happens when a middle-aged woman discovers iMovie just before starting dinner. In this episode, the first of what will be very few, I draw no specific conclusions. 

Much like the Mueller report. 

I feel a kinship.

I should run for president. I feel like the only one who isn't. 

My husband says no one would vote for me. 

I beg to differ. I have 16 followers on Twitter and one of them consistently comments.

My husband says posting an emoji as a comment is not supportive, especially when it's the eggplant. 

I told him I love eggplant. I put it in my casseroles and even fry it up in a pan.

He says I've missed the point. It stands for "penis."

Under the right circumstances, I'd fry that too. 

Lorena Bobbitt was just one step from glory.

I'm sorry, was it too soon?

In all seriousness, imagine all the pleasure women would get if more foods had a phallic shape. 

Wait. I think you can.

A reporter said that Rhys Hoskins said that the guys in the dugout said that the stadium was louder than he's ever heard after Harp's second home run of the season. 

Also, Attorney General William Barr said that Special Counsel Robert Mueller said that the information his team collected said what Donald Trump said: there was no collusion. 

Civilization is stuck in a sixth grade time loop. 

Did you know Rhys is worth far more on Words with Friends than Bryce? Or I think it would be if there was an MLB version. 

Or I knew how to spell.

In my last post, in my quest to find an agent, I shared that I was contemplating my resume. While thinking of credentials, I started with "My cousin designed the logo for GoDaddy." 

In an act of solidarity, a few relatives helped me expand my qualifications:

  • My bro is a rock and roll rebel.
  • A cousin can eat a box of Oreos in ten minutes.
  • Another would do some sketchy shit for a Klondike bar.
  • Another said he'd go skinny dipping in a Spam lake if it got him some notoriety.

Note: the above responses were edited for accuracy. There's nothing I hate worse than someone misspelling dike

In other news, Two Brothers Pork Skins were recalled for a number of reasons, among them misbranding. 

Musta called them "food." 

They also failed to implement a system to improve the safety of the product. 

They're pork skins?! They took the last remnants from the slaughterhouse floor and threw them in a deep fryer. I think the implications are evident.

Seems like Two Brothers would have saved themselves some trouble had they recruited a smarter sibling. 

With my vast knowledge of relevant news, you might be thinking, how does Cindy know all this?

A woman never reveals her age. 

My husband can't even speak. 

Someone read my post at Philitically Incorrect and told me she didn't like my name.

So I changed it to Cinadelphia Phillies. That's because Philadelphia Phillies was already trademarked. They have some sharp people working for the organization.

Or I could use Philadelphia Cillies. But that doesn't sound like a name that would get me taken seriously.

'Cause you can tell that's what I'm going for.

Another reader said my post represented "more unwanted bullshit spam ads on Facebook."

Whoa! Those are strong words. But I have a cousin who might want to take a dip in 'em. 

I replied with the grace and elegance of a chili fart: "If you don't want unwanted ads on Facebook, there's a place you can go. With an attitude like yours, I'm sure this isn't the first time someone has told you where that is."

The best caption of the week was on Ze Frank's latest True Facts video: "What Nancy does with her butt rope is nobody's business."

I respect that. There's a whole bunch of my day I like to refer to as executive time.

My husband says finally I have a valid reason to run for President.

Besides, everyone will know where my allegiance lies when they see my sign: "Cinadelphia Phillies for President."

Did you know they released the official hashtags for all MLB teams? The Phillies is #RingTheBell. I hope they didn't spend a lot of time on it. 

See you at the ballpark. 
⧫⧫⧫

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Copyright © 2019 Cindy Falteich, All rights reserved.

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