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20 November 2006 @ 10:55 am
Yesterday was just an all-around bad day in the life.

I've got roommates freaking out about a bedbug problem I'm not experiencing - which ultimately leads to the question of whether some of them aren't so paranoid that they're imagining things. But, since I'm a member of this apartmenthold, I'm stuck forking out money for laundry and additional futile extermination sprayings. And so, all weekend, all my clothes and all my bedding have been bagged up (only to be dragged out again when I needed to sleep or not walk around nude). The exterminator came on Friday with the promise of returning on Sunday. My bed has been without sheets since then, since I didn't see any point in washing them twice. Essentially, I'm sleeping on a matress wrapped in plastic.

Yesterday, I left as the exterminator was entering, this was around 2:30. Irritated with the whole process, I didn't feel much like sticking around and watching. So, I went to the bar with the decision in my pocket NOT to drink, since I knew I'd need to come home later and do a buttload of laundry.

A million sober hours and a Seahawks defeat to the lowly 49ers later - a total letdown game; didn't help that Frank Gore looked like Walter Payton out there (or, more like, our defense played like those cardboard cutouts in that Verizon Wireless commercial) - and I was back on my way home, only to notice that the laundrymat closes at 9pm on Sundays. It was 8:15pm at this point, thank you 4pm NFL start time.

So, that left me sleeping once again on the diaper matress. That also left me sleeping IN my jeans since all my pajama bottoms were dirty. And, that left me wearing today the same pair of slacks I wore every day last week for work.

I've decided, as a result of all this fucking laundry that I'm doing, to start chucking shit I don't need. I'm gonna be unloading another five t-shirts (leaving me with a solid base of 7, one for each day of the week), as well as two sweaters and three pairs of shoes. Plus, there have been a few pillows that I've been hanging onto that aren't even mine. So, out they go. All the shorts I brought with me won't be needed, so I'm gonna put them in my box and save them for next year.


Random Seahawks Notes:

Jerramy Stevens is starting to build a VERY solid case for Worst Seahawk Ever; in fact, I think he's nearing Worst Seattle Sports Player Ever. First of all, he's a first round pick (and I know, that might've been a stretch, but that year, that low in the draft order, the Seahawks weren't left with many alternatives). He's 6'7, got a perfect Tight End build for an offense that utilizes the tight end. He had an up and down college career with probably more on-field ups than not. And for the first three years he did absolutely nothing. Then, last year he showed some improvement; but he single-handedly lost us a Super Bowl. And now this year he's been injured for half and dropping or fumbling everything thrown his way. Let's not forget the fact that he's a mental case who can't keep his emotions in check on the field or off, with a track record of VERY suspect misdeeds in the public sector.

I mean, let's look at it this way, there have been an endless string of busts on this team. There's the Boz and Dan McGuire and Kelly Stoffer and Rick Mirer. There was the whole Joey Galloway saga in Holmgren's first season, but at least Galloway had an amazing beginning to his career here that sort of offset things. Ken Behring and Tom Flores were particularly obscene and incompetent, but they didn't actually PLAY in games, though they did have influence over poor outcomes. Here's the deal, busts are busts, they happen all the time. Normally you're not counting on a rookie to come in and be a savior for your team. But, for a guy to show so many signs of being able to lock down a position on a team, to indeed probably be the most talented player at that position, and to just lay egg after egg when the game is on the line. I just don't see how you can have confidence in throwing to that guy. Jerramy Stevens is like that unathletic kid on the team who always managed to get open, who would just drop everything in sight because whenever the ball was thrown his way, he'd get so nervous about dropping it that he could never imagine possibly catching it.

And I know there have been a good number of goats in Seattle sports history. Bobby Ayala comes instantly to mind; Jim McIlvaine doesn't stray too far from the top; and who can forget Arthur Rhodes giving up the blast to David Justice or Jeff Fassero's "one-bad-pitch"? Russ Davis never helped your cause out there at third base; Olden Polynice never makes me feel good when I know we could've had Scottie Pippen; seemed like Kendall Gill was always chucking up big shots and missing at the end of games the year he was with us; and you never like to see Adrian Beltre or Richie Sexson up at the plate with runners in scoring position and two outs.

But, you have to know that Jerramy Stevens will need to lose us at LEAST another Super Bowl to trump the biggest Seattle Sports Failure of all time. Because unless you wore number 42 and played power forward for the Supersonics - nearly single-handedly bringing down an entire FRANCHISE while making the NBA maximum, starting, and receiving a third of the offensive touches - you'll never be Seattle Loser #1.

Someone should tell Jerramy Stevens that he owes Vin Baker a bouquet of flowers.

In other news, someone tell these injured fuckers to start getting healthy. I can't handle Spencer hiking the ball to Wallace as he's running for his life because Ashworth couldn't block a Frizbee!!!