That's Brandon Inge pouring champagne on Magglio Ordonez, with a goateed Joel Zumaya in the background cheering them on. Zumaya's barely old enough to legally drink that champagne, by the way.
For the first time since I was about 9.8 years old, the Detroit Tigers will be playing in a postseason game.
That's right, folks, they clinched a playoff berth (i.e., at least the Wild Card) today with a 11-4 spanking of the Royals today. It'd be nice if they won the division over the Twins, too, so they could get home-field advantage in the ALDS. But hey, they're in, and I'm happy.
I'm in the midst of reading Breakfast of Champions by Kurt Vonnegut, and am yet again blown away by his writing. He really cranked up the Weirdness dial for this one; I'm glad Kilgore Trout has a central role in the story. I've liked him ever since I read my first Vonnegut novel, Timequake, in which he was the only person who knew what to do with Free Will when it came back after a 10-year-long timequake. Anyway, long story short, read some KV.
Picking up the new car tomorrow. Said car is still nameless. Let's change that! Seriously, I need to name this car, and the sooner the better.
That's all for now. Next time, we'll talk about 20 quick ham-hock recipes that will leaving your family saying, "I can't believe this is the hoof of a pig!"