Posts Tagged ‘master beatie’

Daily Batman: Accidentally on purpose

September 30, 2010


via RinEatsZombies on the deviantart.

A lady is one who never shows her underwear unintentionally.

(Lillian Day.)

Around ten, eleven years ago my friendohs Big Ben, Master Beatie, and I used to have Commando Fridays. I think it was Fridays. In case you’re not conversant with the term, “commando” means skipping on skivvies. Obviously, I’d wear jeans or long shorts on these Commando Fridays — this wasn’t something we did from a skank/mimbo (male bimbo) perspective, it was just a little freedom fighting Downtown. I haven’t gone without wearing underwear in a really, really long time. It’s such a secret and rebellious transgression. Huh. Something to put on the to-do list?

Take yourself out to the ballgame: Baseball words o’ wisdom from a faraway friendoh

September 18, 2009

Master Beatie just phoned the house out of nowhere to drop some awesome baseball revelations of the night on me. He was having an extremely well-planned and, from all appearances, enjoyable evening down at the D’backs game in that there old Phoenix, AZ which began with happy hour specials at Applebees (always smart to inexpensively pre-party before hitting the pricey concessions at a major league stadium — attaboy!) and ended in $6 seats with strategically planned backup beers at the game. The boy is a planner, and you can do naught but learn from his skills. He laid the following hard-won wisdom on my none-too-perky but mood-improving-with-time ears:

  • “Admiration > Envy. Always.”
  • “Doesn’t matter who’s playing; as long as it’s baseball, it’s awesome!”


  • (Mikey Beatie photo credit, Location: Estadio Revolucion Torreon, Coahuila, Mexico)

    Support whatever local ball is around you, whether you are lucky enough to live in a town in the US with a major league stadium, or have some good old peanuts and crackerjack at a strictly AAA or AA team, or find yourself privy to an unexpected pickup game in the corner of a park or the back lot of a restaurant in South America or Japan.

    The crack of the bat, the golden sunset, the ads for local businesses — take yourself out to the ballgame. It is good for the soul.

    Hugs and kisses, Miguelito! Your wife will be there before you know it! I know you miss her and I hope a joshing conversation about beer prices at games in the Bay vs. the Gret Southernlywesternly is passin’ the time.

    (I have now written two journal entries in one day about couples I know named Mike and S/Cindy.)