Meh.

Their hired, obese gun did a great job tonight. Note: It wasn't a blowout, they just tacked on a bunch when the game was over.

After the first call where the ump looked right at an out but said safe, I was pretty pissed. But after the second one, where the guy looked right at the funniest double play of all time but for some reason only called one of the two clearly tagged runners out, I was sure the fans wouldn't let the game continue. That's where you start throwing stuff on the field. But I guess in California you just go with the flow or whatever. And Freeways. And god, and the bible.

Good night, and here's hoping Yankee players get extremely painful mysterious injuries while sleeping tonight. Especially Matsui. You know what I'm talkin' about.

Oh, and I recommend reading David Cross's new book during the game. You can mute the parts when the Angels turn to jelly and get a few laughs in.

Unrelated: I was about to end this post, but I just saw the end of this piece on Nightline about people who select their babies by what they're gonna look like. So, of course, nobody chooses Abe Vigoda, but instead it's these superficial self-important women selecting little Joey Lawrences and Oscar De La Hoyas because who's gonna love a baby who doesn't look perfect? (The people who want to trade Papelbon, I suppose.) Anyway, my first thought was, Wouldn't it be funny if those babies turned out to be horrible freaks? Then I thought, No, because it's not their fault. What would be really great is if the baby does turn out just as Johnny Deppish as promised, but the parents both go blind.