Yes, it's a blogger's crutch to do a Larry King style dot-dot column, but they're easy and they so accurately portray my mental state ... oooh, shiny object ...

Scooter the Talking Ball was worse than I expected. Scooter had no wherewithal.

I knew Josh Beckett was good. I knew he had the chance to be great. He showed a lot in the post-season. Right now, he's just filthy. FILTHY. Granted, he still should have gone to college ...

CIA, NSA ... dammit, Goldman, at least you haven't told them about Majestic!

XM Radio. Who has it? Who likes it? Worth the money? (No Sirius talk either - it's not an option.)

I'm sorely tempted to write a whole screed about the state of porn, but no one really wants to hear that, even me ...

Free Wily Mo!

I could honestly care less about the NFL most of the time, but the NFL Draft is compelling somehow. Mel Kiper Jr. as national hero - who knew? He's very good on radio.

We all talk about announcers, but no one writes about them. Why isn't there a TV sports critic?

Tivo. How did I get along without it?

The New Era batting practice lids are the most comfortable hat I've ever worn. They hold a nice curve, your dome doesn't overheat, and they don't get squished easily.

Dave Matthews Band - overrated and underrated, all at the same time.

iPod. Coolest toy ever.

My fantasy teams all stink right now. Badly. I think they'll come around. It's impossible mathematically for them all to perform at the 10% PECOTA level. Right?

Seachrest, out! No, really, get out. Really.