I would say that that was the worst I've ever played.

But heck, I wouldn't even call that playing.

I gotta finish packing, we got a hell of a road trip comin' up. At least Homer doesn't judge when I have a disaster of a game. Win or lose, he comes traipsing over to me with a squeaky toy in his mouth. So that makes me feel better. Sucks that I gotta leave him for so long, take him to the kennel. Oh well.

On the bright side, I get to see Cammy again in San Diego. And Piazza too. Can't wait till the end of the road trip, in Atlanta. I want some frickin' vindication.

What the hell ever. I'm pissed. Just. Argh.