Okay, before it even gets to the point where it's even come to this: everyone sit down.
There, take a sip of coffee, eat a spoonful of Apple Jack.
All good? Okay. Listen up, and listen very well. If anyone is coming to this bolg with the anticipation of seeing me--nay, anyone in Donkey Nation--express even the slightest bit of doubt in HLHIII or my desire to straight up rock some new Asics while nomming funnel cake and taking spectacular pictures of lions big and small at the zoo with him on a pleasant, early Fall day in the shadows of my home city then... well I'm pleased to tell them that my hit counter (it's invisible, think on that) is going to be blowing up, because it will never happen.
Dude's got a 2.42 ERA, is sporting the best strikeout rate of his career, leads the NL in K:BB ratio (don't ask who's leading the AL), and yet amazingly has somehow lost over 40% of his starts. Yesterday, all of our runs were knocked in by some donkey named Dave Sardineface (actually, thanks Dave!). I'd make some analogy (university project--smartest kid dropped class after group was formed; one cat's a stoner that gets on random Krapf's buses; wait what the Asian dude isn't good with computers?!!; the girl broke up with her boyfriend and is a mess, etc.--"ohnoez nobody's doing their part and it's half our grade") but I don't want to. So I guess it's this: settle down, Roy is still breaking faces with no reason to think he won't continue doing so, and I--perhaps naively or due to unwarranted optimism--think it'll all turn out okay.
Hey, that just started and ended with "okay". Huh.