these rebels confuse me not anymore

It must be horrible to wake up from childhood and all the tonka toys and screaming drunk father gone…long gone. Who can remember anyway? I never sleep through a night. I wake up 6 or 7 times and my childhood was nowhere near a Tamil rebel. We drank Blatz, but I applied for refugee status when I entered Canada anyway. True story.

The official laughed at my request. “United States citizens can’t apply as refugees,” he said and I said, “oh yeh, well this is a psychological refugee application.” And he laughed again, but it was more of a I get what you mean sort of laugh, one of those I understood where you coming from son…yeh, the United States of America and feeling kinda fucked in the head.

It was 3:30 AM exactly. I remember last night. I remember it like the green digits lighting up the dark room; the damn space invaders. That was my 7th or 8th wake up but a tolerable one because it had a reason and an explanation. There was a hot rod in the night and it was for all of us night crawlers to hear. No shit. Some guy was whipping around street corners and peeling rubber on straightaways and revving engine at stop and goes like fuck all sabotage here I am.

Part of me was pissed for getting awakened, but then i was like..give it up Steve and stop blaming the world . You can’t sleep anyway and this neighborhood has gun shots so enjoy the drag race peace. But I never listen to myself and so I was pissed because this guy might crash into the building and I might have to deal with avalanche…car crashes into building..2nd floor falls into first floor falls into basement and well, I live in the basement and my 1st floor neighbor above is fat, but not Canadian fat. He’s American obese fat and I love him, but wouldn’t want him landing on my head.

I was also pissed at how many drunks this hot rod might be hitting. I like good drunks and the joyful noises they make…singing birds are them good drunks and most of the drunks I know are good drunks. I thought about people and their cars and all the love between em and that Queen song and what macho or lesbacho ego boost to slam that accelerator and make all that noise, flash one’s peacock plumage for all to hear.

I don’t have a car, never did, but I got a license and I can sort of relate to loving cars, but not really, not really at all. Either way, I don’t blame this Joe cool guy for letting off some steam and spreading his shit around and getting away with it. He went around the block at least 5 times and then he paused a while…maybe 40 minutes and started up again and no cops. Escape artist.

But then I got pissed at the Milan runway out there; this guy’s solo trip…a baseball pitchback….a kid playing catch with himself. I know that solitaire game all too well. It’s real easy with no contender at his side; no cop to a criminal and vice versa, but then it hit me how stupid I am.

This guy was doing it alright… riding peaceful streets of metropolis in these times of progress and law and order minus a few Montreal gang gunshots when this wild west horse of  a car steps to the plate and lets out some soulful exhaust screaming…here i am suckers. Come and get me.

I sighed with some satisfaction and admiration for the caped crusader. I rolled over; but didn’t fall back asleep; to the tv instead and fumbled around for the power button in the dark, switched it on and as my power switched off, I melted into the baseball highlights or screw that.. I fixated on the bottom scroll bar.  This is Canada Blue Jays Red Sox Yankees AL East highlights only.

The scroll eventually arrived, Reds 5, Brewers 1. And 12 more hours before it gets dark. Sometimes I hate the light.

The Brewers are 77-72

the eggs taste extra good this morning

To fall asleep before 1st pitch is I kind of forgive myself with excuses like western expansion and Chinese laying railroad tracks and stadiums popping up and relocation and by Scully it’s 10:10 PM again in the east and flatlines it’s 5 am all of a sudden. Carlos Gomez and Ryan Braun hit home runs; hit em off Clayton Kershaw Kerplunk goes Joe Ace and his 11 game win streak says mlb.com.

All the players are probably sleeping right now. It’s 3:30 AM in LA or maybe not Kershaw. Strikes out 11; a complete game, standing ovation, but a loss; out somethinged by Gallardo; Yovani Gallardo or Yo as we like to call him in Milwaukee. He once was a power pitcher; for a half decade long and we loved the huge K totals; massive pitch counts; 6 inning max; so many walks. We loved Gallardo and never expected any more. Pitchers are hard to come by.

And we love Yo now; these eight inning dances; only 3  k’s, but only 1 little walk and 6 little hits for a final score of Brewers 3, Dodgers 1. The Dodgers are banged up with injuries and Brewers maybe drunk from time zone shifting like staying awake all night and the next day feeling like a cough syrup high. Sunday may be painful.

But the opposite happened last weekend. Dodgers flew into Milwaukee early Friday morning; lost the first two games and won the rubber on Sunday.

This time zone reasoning is word searches in the dentist chair.

Brewers are 69-55.