So,

Brendo Frendo and I spent the weekend like we always do...on our asses. Well, not the whole time, but apart from some wiffleball and party-hopping, there was a lot of ass sitting.

A good deal of that ass-sitting was spent in front of the Saugus little league team games. Those kids are amazing. I mean, they look like fetuses in shoes, but then they play like they're little major leaguers. They're out there turning double plays, hitting home runs, making amazing catches and spitting. Lots of spitting.

Of course, after an hour or so marvelling at the ability of the tykes our minds went where they always do. I turned to Brendo Frendo:

Me: How much play do you think these kids are getting?
Brendo: Jesus, dude. They're twelve.
Me: Wait, I made out with a girl when I was twelve. Me. Not Brad Pitt or Lorenzo Lamas. Me.
Brendo: So?
Me: So, if my fat pimply awkward lame ass could make out with someone at twelve, you think kids the same age, on national television, who are really good at sports and spitting aren't having like twisted, whipped cream filled eight ways with 19 year old strippers?!?!?!?
Brendo: Um. I concede the point.
Me: Thank you.
Brendo: Pass the Doritos.
Me: With pleasure sir.

God bless and keep you Saugus.