Tuesday, November 20, 2012

Every day I'm naked bootleggin'

Typing this up in a Starbucks, stealing Wi-Fi.  It's the way Charlie Batch has always done it.  I was watching Sherlock with Eddie George Monday night, and Coach gave me a call.  He said, "You're starting this weekend." Oh, shit, son.

Playing QB is like riding a bike.  I'm gonna be throwing bombs on Sunday like I'm in the Gaza Strip.  Actually, me and the crew will be up in Cleveland.  Probably gonna check out that town with that Love Canal thing while we're up there.

Looked in the mirror and thought I was one John Legend-lookin fool.



Christmas comes earlier and earlier every year.  I was at Walmart stocking up on cans of whoop-ass and I heard Greensleeves on the sound system.  That shit is my jam.

Studying up on some Browns game tape today.  We owe them a fall.

I bet the guy who made Yoohoo got sued by his ex-girlfriend because she said Yoohoo to him once while he was trying to come up with the name.  I'd donate half of my game checks for the rest of my career if it meant the Yoohoo guy don't get sued.

Coach wanted me to run through a bunch of spare tires on the practice field.  Batch don't do that shit no more.  I made circles out of all the Hostess cakes I bought when those dudes said they were peacin out and then I ran through those circles.

Speaking of which, who is this Baron Batch idiot.  He came into the locker room, and I was like pay me royalties for putting the Batch name on your jersey.  I ain't putting no "C. Batch" on my jersey.  Mike drop.

Plax may be coming back.  Gonna be just like old times.
batch out.