Back in January, I wrote about an unpleasant decision: picking between Notre Dame and Alabama on the day of the football national championship game. Today? Another title game, and another unhappy choice. Back then, the basic choice was between a team I can’t stand versus a conference I hate above all others. This time, the… Read More conflicted.
I knew it was going to be bad. I didn’t think it would be this bad. Thirty five people entered the Eighth Annual Uncle Crappy NCAA Final Four Challenge (Brought To You By Bocktown). And at the conclusion of the Elite Eight weekend, there are 16 — SIXTEEN — Blutarskys (and if you don’t know… Read More awful.
Time to get caught up.
If I have to swallow some down time, I’m sure as hell going to enjoy it.* OK, I’m not going overboard — much — but I am going to try to worry slightly less about stuff until I’m ready to test the groin again. (I’m also apparently going to enjoy writing about my groin. Groin.… Read More sloth.
When we visited the library last week, Mrs. Crappy found a book she thought would be right in my wheelhouse. And she was correct. Record Store Days is an ode to the romance of the dingy stores that occupied much of my time — and my money — from about age 10 until fairly recently.… Read More on the record.
THIS HAPPENED. IN COLORADO. ON SATURDAY. I WAS NOT THERE. WHY?
Uncle Crappy 