Philitically Incorrect

I'm writing this from a hotel room near the scenic Georgia-Florida line. When I tell the locals I'm from Philadelphia, that either makes me odd or special. My husband says in my case, those are the same thing. I made an important observation on the trip down: When you pass a car in the pouring rain and every window is cracked three inches, you instantly know someone farted. You know when you're too far south on 95 when billboards start advertising live baby gators, BBQ, injury lawyers and pro-life propaganda, followed by none other than Cafe Risque. I think they skewed the order. I'm pretty sure it's pro-life then BBQ except after strip club. And injury lawyers should come after baby gators. Or before them. I should let someone know. June is National Candy Month. When it comes to "National (insert cause here) Month," I feel slightly unfulfilled.  Now, give me National Eye Candy Month and I'll buy t-shirts, hone my sarcasm and warn my l...

My friend, Dave, got this message on his Fitbit: "I hope that was 10,000 steps. If not, you're about to go blind." I wonder if George Jetson got jerked around like that by Rosie. Sometimes a joke is about the right choice of words. That means s ome of you got that and some of you will be dumbfounded until Tuesday. That's okay. Stream a few episodes of The Bachelor  and your brain will again cease to function. So, I broke my toe. This makes the fact that Donald Trump is still President that much more annoying.  And the fact that the Brewers left Milwaukee to show the Phils what a top-tier offense looks like, is as disappointing as a Philly cheesesteak made with real cheese. That shit should come from cows in a can. Like real food. By the way, the Phillies are the worst team leading a division. The NL East also boasts the worst team in baseball. You can count the Marlins' wins on two hands and this includes a whopping 1 of their last 10.  They've become ...

I haven’t bought a pair of underwear in six years and honestly, I’m a little peeved that I have to do it again so soon. My husband says that’s an unrealistic expectation.  Since 2016, we’ve had a lot of those. In honor of the Mueller report, this blog is being redacted. I don't know what that means exactly, but from watching the news, I'm guessing lubricant and latex don't apply. Take that anyway you want. I guess I could Google it but I'm not that type of intellectual. I get my energy from the air.  My point is, I have no idea what I'm doing. My husband wants to know how that's different than any other day. Here's what women say about their partners in therapy . At this particular moment, I'm sure one of these applies. This morning I dusted my bedroom, filed my tax stuff and put my winter clothes away. All of this started simply by trying to find my cell phone. The Phillies are cleaning house too. You either perform or you're ...

The regular major league baseball season is 162 games. The total accumulation of bouts that go well vs. those that go horribly wrong, leads to either a happy wife or one that'll pack on ten pounds until you apologize. Wait, I think I mixed metaphors.  My husband says that's not an excuse for getting something wrong. Except it actually is. Last Wednesday, the Phillies hit rock bottom in a 15-1 trounce in Game 3 against the former Bryce Nationals.  If that happens again, they'll have to build a Nutrisystem stand at Citizens Bank Park. Or schedule some "Bring your dog to the ballpark" games to fill seats. Or risk becoming Marlins Park. Quick count of crowd at #Marlins - #Phils : 1,590. It's a good day to get a foul ball. — Steve Wine (@Steve_Wine) May 31, 2017 By the 9th inning of that romp, Gabe Kapler had a decision to make:  bring in a position player to close the game or  strip naked.  I'm always surprised he doesn't choose ...

Now that Bryce Harper swiped right on the Phillies, the acquisition has created more buzz than the electric line that came down in another freaking area snowstorm.  By this time in Philadelphia, two things are evident: Punxsutawney Phil is full of crap and we need a distraction. That's where I come in. Since Harper has monopolized the headlines for weeks, it's time to make this all about me.  This whole ordeal had the makings of a Harlequin romance—tease you for 200 pages but never get you off. Until John Middleton tapped into his inner E.L. James.  I haven’t felt this level of enthusiasm since Hunter Pence crossed the Schuylkill with chicken legs . His signing excited me so, it was the beginning of the end of my contribution to Bleacher Report . Hey,  I did what I did because love came to town . Now I’m hoping Harp’s contract will be the start of something beautiful. I need new fodder and Broad Street is horny for another parade. Bryce Harper Ign...