Taking the Bait

A few months ago I was dating a woman who came over to my home one Sunday night. She had been drinking and seemed a little depressed. I offered her my support, my ear, even my beer, but she would have none of it. She was set on being miserable. So we started talking about what's wrong and the next thing I know she's taken everything I've said, mushed it into a ball and spat out "Oh, so you think I'm a needy miserable bitch?" There was a heavy silence as we stared each other down. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath. "You know what? I'm not even gonna take the bait." All that was left was for the coroner to fill out our relationship's paperwork.

So the other day when I found this in my in-box...

"Unlike some people I could mention, my desperation and basic lack of self-regard aren't such that I'd root for the team ahead of me against a possible Wild Card competitor."

-The UrClown

...years of experience told me "don't take the bait." But then it occurred to me: worst case scenario, Matt stops speaking to me. It's win-win! So here goes...

Gee, Matt, that's really something. This is a thinly veiled reference to my pulling for the Yankees a month ago when they squared off against the Halos. At the time the Sox were 10 or so back of the Yanks and see-sawing with Anaheim for the WC lead. As of this writing the Sons of the Autry are a game and a half closer to Oakland than they are to the Red Sox. Very noble, Assclown.