It takes a certain kind of person to get a bloody gash above his eye while working retail. Apparently, I'm that person.

So, I'm not hearing good things about the Wolves on draft night.

By sleep deprivation, not drinking. As I write this, it's 9pm on a day I woke up at 3am. Time to sleep forever.

It's four days until the Milkmaid's birthday. I spent the last two weeks wracking my brain to remember what she subtly asked for a month or two ago, and last night, it came to me. This one's gonna come together, dudes.

The NHL has followed the NBA's act; though it was just six games, they made the most of them as the Blackhawks scored twice in the last 76 seconds last night to win the Cup. Will the MLB follow suit and keep the ball rolling in a few months? They'd better.

I'm allowed to do it for the first time in ages. It's probably not more than a week, realistically, but I need to do it more as I age...

Last night the Milkmaid went to the first movie together (just the two of us) since...well, put it this way: we named our elder daughter after a character from the last one.

Oh well. I'm just glad I got to see this series.

Farewell, James Gandolfini.