Numbers must be low at SharkTank. Thin Slice tried to ambush me with a convergence on 3rd St. Look, we are all nervous about Shank’s erratic behavior now that he had kid number three. Did he sleep last night? Is he in a bad mood? Is today the day he updates the spreadsheet with my numbers? Don’t put your shiv insecurities on Sweet 6. Didn’t look like that hard of a workout anyway. Ice wasn’t even throwing up.
Doc(k) must be transitioning to a Ve(t) as he seemed very concerned about Honey and Rosie’s GI tracts. “How many times did you stop? No poppy this time? Hmmm. [strokes chin with two fingers]. Let me write you a script for Petamucil” Ba dum tss.
Kotter to Hilary. It had been a while. He might still be lost on the course somewhere. That or he’s started his migratory pattern to the Grey Lady for the summer already.
For those of you who ran the optional Tempo kick up your feet, furl out that snuggie, crack a frosty, and flip to ESPN2 at 7pm for American League Cornhole Championship tonight. You earned it.