My Snow Monkeys were clobbered this weekend, going down to their third straight loss. They’re now a most mediocre 6-5 and sitting in sixth place, barely holding onto the final playoff spot with only two weeks to go in the regular season. Some terrible decisions by our General Manager (benching Romo for Sanchez, White and Bryant for Hakeem Nicks and that Titans wide receiver whose name I can’t remember), and some plain bad luck (my best player, Adrian Peterson, was injured and could be out for the foreseeable future) sealed our fate. However, in running the numbers, I discovered that, even had I played all my most productive players, I still wouldn’t have won the week. I don’t know if I should be relieved or panicked. A little of both I suppose. Next week, we play the team nipping at our furry little pink monkey feet, the Autodrafts, who are an even more mediocre 5-6, then end the season against the (as of today) winless Reagan’s Raiders. I’m screwed on the tie-breaker scenarios, so it’s imperative my Snow Monkeys win next week – and the final week, just to be on the safe side. I’m thinking it may be time to start wheeling and dealing.
So, I’ve started all those new comic book series I’ve added to my to-read pile. As I mentioned in a previous blog entry, the plan is to pick up EVERYTHING and read three issues. If I’m interested, I keep buying. If I lose interest, I drop the title. Simple, no? Last night, I started with the first three issues of…
BATMAN AND ROBIN #1-3
Okay, I’ve clearly been out of the comics loop way too long. Batman has a son? The result of a surprisingly out-of-character tryst with Talia al-Ghul (daughter of supervillain and long-time enemy Ra’ al-ghul)? And he’s apparently franchised the Bat-vigilante business as evidenced by the Moscow version of the Bat who is introduced in the opening pages of the first issue, only to get his pointy-eared cowl handed to him by some mystery (to me anyway) villain/vigilante. Bruce Wayne has elected to take his son under his cape and train him as the new Robin. While an admirable bit of parenting, one wonders whether he’s made the correct choice. The young Damian is certainly capable, but one hell of an annoying brat. He’s like an erudite Dennis the Menace in tights.
While I enjoyed the dynamics between Batman and Robin/Bruce and Damian, and butler Alfred’s attempts to play mediator (actually, his moments were my favorite), I found Batman a little too verbally reflective at times, a little too conspicuously self-aware. I liked the book’s dark tone and liked the art, but found the pacing a little slow – especially the second issue which was cut short to give us a sneak peek at Batman Noel, a recent hardcover release.
Verdict: Undecided. I find the premise intriguing enough that I’d like to see how things develop. I’m going to give it a few more issues.
Holy crap! I never thought it would happen to me but, today, I was witness to a miracle. I used to make fun of people who saw Jesus in their taco or the Virgin Mary in the condensation that formed inside their shower stall. Not anymore. Not after this morning when, while making an omelet, I glanced down at the bowl containing the eggs and saw THIS –
Now is that or is that not the face of John the Baptist in my mixing bowl?
I swear, these yolks were NOT doctored or otherwise manipulated. So what does this mean? Is it a sign? What is Egg Yolk Face trying to tell me?!!