Saturday, February 13, 2010

Grumblings of a Senseless Insomniac Breaking Down Wimbledon



There's been a less-than-pleasant bed bug infestation at the humble chateau de Bisbee/Duah. It began, as these things so often do, as a minor disturbance, a hole in the screen we thought, undoubtedly allowing in some pesky mosquitos. My negligence to nip the problem at the bud resulted in the realization of great bed bug civilizations, though, and a few nights ago I was roundly bludgeoned into a schizophrenic mess. I've remained this way since, basically-- sleeping on the living room floor while visions of human-sized arthropods and Hanley Ramirez batting lines dance through my head...

Anyway, forgive me if I write in a somewhat more-scatterbrained-than-usual fashion today. I've gotten enough sleep over the past three nights to be legally admitted into an asylum. This being said, here are some thoughts that, God-willing, might have something to do with tennis. ;

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