I don't understand the term situational comedy, much like I don't understand the term observational humor. Don't all comedies (or dramas, for that matter) have a "situation" at its core? I mean, I'm trying really hard to think of something that could be hilarious in the absence of a situation. I guess this maybe.
|This is funny. Situationally speaking.|
I don't know why I get a kick out of this thing. My college boyfriend used to print these out en masses and tape them up in his room, without ever offering word one of explanation.
Anyways, same deal with observational humor. Unless it's a knock knock joke. But those aren't very funny, (excepting one.)
How do I get on these tangents? Good grief. The worst part is that all I did was muse to myself, every day the Yankes have another little element of drama or human interest etc, that makes me think the opening credits to Will & Grace are about to sprout open.
The Yankees as a sitcom! I'm writing that down.
And then like a true nutcase, I immediately start berating myself for using a completely nonsensical term. When all I want to do is write about the game, drink Pepsi, wear Reebok.
So I apologize for the absenteeism the past 2 days, I was walking around like someone auditioning for a job as a right angle. So I have a hernia, which I honestly thought was one of those invented conditions that no one ever really HAS but uses it to underscore a degree of affliction.
Like saying you have a migraine. Or the flu. When I hear migraine, I hear, "headache? Maybe? Whatever, I just don't feel like hanging out tonight. With you, anyway." When I hear flu, I hear "hungover." And when I hear hernia, I hear this for some reason.
I remember this from when I was FIVE. I forget nothing. Seriously. And based on this little slice from my childhood that I still remember, maybe it would behoove me to not save ALL my memories. As ohyob once said in regard to the urgent need for him to clear his head: "Everything must go. This is a fire sale."
Oh yeah, the Yankees. They lost to the Mariners in day 2 of the Sneach Era, you know what else happend? Felix Hernandez went all Izzy Alcantara on the Yankees and adopted a mentality not unlike that of an aggressive boyfriend determined to win the 7-ft tall stuffed monkey for his girlfriend by throwing ball after ball at a stack of milk bottles that are likely krazi-glued to the pedestal.
The reason I say they're like a sitcom is because there's like a new B-side story going on with them every day. You got the games, and their record. And then there's either A-Rod breaking his hand, or the Sneach acquistion, or the Cano hitting streak (RIP).
Reggie having a stroke and going ape shit on all the HOFers.
Joba telling us every day he's coming back tomorrow.
Mo's ACL. (He was at the soccer game on Sunday, and I'm watching him walk across the field and then tell Alex, "This is yet another confirmation of the fact that Tom Brady is a fucking pussy." Then the guy next to me said, "Um, language?" Geez, its's not like I was even talking to him. Maybe I should've just answered, "Oh, it's English" since technically, his inflection indicated it was a question.)
The motlye crue of pitchers who we count on to pitch as well as Andy or Mo.
The motley crue of bottom of the order batters who are KILLING it.
Never a dull moment in the Bronx, but I am admittedly kind of loving this succeeding in the face of adversity stuff. (See, I have a heart. And I love the movie Hard Ball. What. Don't judge. Ok, I guess you can. Just on the movie part, not the heart part, though.)
A-Rod is out for like 2 months because he broke his hand, and I love him so I'm not gonna go all "A-rod" in the same manner as these disappointed chaps:
But I will say that is there anyone more prone to injury than this guy? Is he made out of paper and string?
And even though Serf Felix apologized, that and a subway card will get me uptown. I call BS on this. It reeks of Sensei Kreese telling Bobby that he wants Daniel out of commission.
The other 2 batters plunked were apparently on "off-speed pitches" and this reeks of a 48 hours episode when a wife will start planting seeds of "domestic abuse" and "infidelity" in the minds of her friends, so when her husband is murdered months later, no one suspects her. Then, inevitably, a search of her computer uncovers google queries like "How to commit homicide" and "making juries think you're a battered woman when you're really not."
Very clever, Felix. I'm not fooled. I know what's going on here. Unfortunately for you and the rest of the AL, taking Arod out of commission is not going to hurt us. The Yankees are a flying V these days! I don't know how, exactly, but I know they seem to emulate the cooperation and determination best captured in the Mighty Ducks (I and II, not III, since if an Olympic team can barely beat a high school prep school varsity them, then they may as well hang up their skates. Sorry, Sven.)
Tonight our friends in Boston come to the Bronx, and everyone is sooo excited to see them. I wonder if the Red Socks even care at this point. I mean, not in a playoff contention way, but in a "What, the Yankees? We have bigger fish to fry than worry about this quasi rivalry" way. (And I, subsequently, would then revel in the NY Post's guaranteed headline of "WHAT RIVALRY? BOSTON CARES MORE ABOUT FRIED FOOD THAN BASEBALL.")
Again, apologies for the brief respite, I'm pulling the immunity-because-of-health card. (Irony! Remind me one time to tell the story of the woman in the waiting room at the hospital calling me and my sisters "crackers," enraged because they were seeing my semi-consicious sister ahead of her, "YOU GONNA TAKE THE CRACKERS OVER ME? YOU THINK I'M HERE FOR MY !@$ING HEALTH?" That was the 4th hardest I've ever laughed in my life. Actually that was the whole story really, so you don't have to remind me to tell you it.)
See you tonight for the Socks opener!