I hear screams. I hear loud noises. No worries. I'm glad. I'm watching my neighbors here in LA having a good time. Those artful Dodgers have won. I'm streaming all the madness and mayhem.
They've won the World Series. Again! I missed watching the final game but have been watching the highlight replays since the Dodgers beat the Blue Jays on Saturday night. It was Saturday night and things turned out alright, as the song says. Not much going on for me most Saturday nights.
I was busy reading the Police Gazette, that story about that serial-killer that dressed as a clown and missed the big game. Maybe it was the awesome way the story was written. Or maybe I was channeling a past episode of Dexter. Only the Dali Lama knows for sure.
So happy to see the Dodger hooligans waving from those Double-Decker buses. Blowing off steam. Celebrating a great win. Missing work today by calling in sick. Faking a late summer cold. Whatever.
While everyone is riding the buses, I'm under the bus once again.
Yeah. Trying to cope. Looking for a more meaningful job. Looking for the 2nd Miss Right. Looking for Miss Goodbar 2025 you might say.
Trying to keep fit by walking 10,000 steps most days, heading to the liguor store down on the corner and back. Dropping those Lumify drops into my baby-blues most mornings. Living my life of quiet desperation,in my own special Southern California LA way.
Still the sun is shining in LA. It always does. I'm counting my blessings. The Dodgers won. The cartels are paying early once again. Looks like the weekend gigolo gig I thought was dead and buried is alive and on the rise.
Watching now as those Dodger fans are waving those "Dodgers Forever" signs.
But, enough about me...
