Yes yes, all of your have been wondering and hoping and fretting and wringing your collective hands in anticipation of the inconsequential ramblings of one Mike Heath.
Well, here you go.
I don't have tons to say, but will say it loud and with a slight lisp. Not because I have one, but because I think it might carry more weight.
What I will be doing:
I will NOT be typing things about how I ate a snickers bar and other bs.
I WILL be typing about my semi-confused thoughts about life, politics, sports, love, and pretty much things that annoy me or make me happy.
Quick hits:
--"Walk off" hits in baseball. Ok, stop with that term. Nobody is "walking." They jog. Was there something inherently wrong with saying "game winning hit"? We NEED to say "walk off single"? I say no. They are "jog off hits." Boo.
--"Medical pot." A joke. Sorry, a big fucking joke. There might be a small number of people who genuinely need the certain chemicals in pot to be inhaled. But the rest of the people who have the 'medical' card are, quite simply, losers. It's a farce. You want to treat it like an actual medical treatment, fine. . . . do it like chemotherapy. You do it, under direct supervision of a doctor, at an office, with someone to drive you home, or you don't go. Simple.
No comments:
Post a Comment