While contemplating life today, I noticed the Champ Car series has a driver named Will Power. I smiled.

But it really bothers me when I run out of maple syrup while I still have Eggo's left. A couple of weeks ago, I wanted waffles since I hadn't had any in a long time, and got sucked in one of those 8 for $10 deals and secured a couple of boxes. Of course, I failed to take note of my syrup situation at the time, but still had some left. Today I finished it off and thought I'd get a new bottle before I had waffles again. I guarantee, I'll forget before I toast the next batch and have to put Tabasco on them or something.

Meal of Links

Seymour Hersh clouds our day with the idea that we might use tactical NUCLEAR weapons in a new conflict with Iran. UK Foreign Secretary Straw says this is "completely nuts". Someone is talking, because the Washington Post runs with it, as well.

The Writers Guild chooses the 100 Greatest Screenplays. Good to see recent offerings like "Memento", "Fargo" and "Eternal Sunshine..." on the list. Even "Pulp Fiction" clocked in at No. 16.

Check out all the news about wrangling new stadiums from certain municipalities. KC just got snookered this past week.

Exercise Yard

I loathe Phil Mickelson. I think he's a goof. And I get tired of these fans who go crazy for him. Needless to say, I was dropping f-bombs (Christ, I was Browns-like) as FIGJAM won the Masters. (FIGJAM is "Fuck, I'm good. Just ask me.") Thank God, it was cold today, so I could devote lots of time to watch the conclusion.

I was there pretty early because of that nutbag who was sitting behind the Indians dugout on the STO broadcast. In HD, mind you. Did anyone see this hooded clown? He was overacting the whole game, knowing he was on the tube each time a right-handed batter was up. Clapping like a seal to "dun, dun, dun, dun" and "Charge", cabbage-patchin', and of course, the dreaded "Hey, I'm on TV" cellphone call during the action. I had to bail.

I wanted Couples, Olazabal, Tiger, even Vijay Singh, for cryin' out loud, to make a few putts and put some pressure on that automaton. But no, I had to watch all the others make mistakes. I'll give him credit, Phil didn't blow this one. Not one costly mistake and only one bogey on 18, and he beat a damn good contending field. Bah.

I say this, though. Give me Fred Couples swing on the drive that he had on No. 1, and I would start playing golf again. Immediately.

Visitor

None, "It's a tradition unlike any other. The Masters on CBS."