Good times, bad times, you know I've had my share

. . . well my woman left town with a brown-eyed man and I still don't seem to care.

I'm on my own little "Survivor" this week as Yes Dear has abandoned el Casa de Martin for a week, leaving me to try to live on my own. Due to my lack of cooking skills, I fully expect to be found dead on the kitchen floor with the refridgerator and freezer open. My last words: "I don't know how to cook any of it."

With her gone, I don't have anyone to bounce my ideas off of, so here they are:

How did Carlos Zambrano manage to get thrown out of a game he'd already been removed from? It's like leaving a restaurant without paying and then stealing the silverware on the way out.

Is it wrong that the passing of Mitch Hedberg was more tramatic for me than either Terri Schiavo or the Pope?

Could CBS manage to fit any more promos in their championship game last night? Jim Nantz would read a promo, Billy Packer would make a point about the game, and Nantz would try to incorporate that into the next promo.
Packer: "Jim, look at how Sean May moves to the basket."
Nantz: "Speaking of moving, Locusts are moving into the neighborhood, this weekend on CBS."
Packer: "Luther Head just got fouled and the ref's didn't call it, that's a crime."
Nantz: "Speaking of crime, be sure to check out CSI:Miami, only on CBS."

I'm not sure Nantz actually watched the game, he just read promos for upcoming shows.

Did anyone tape Desperate Housewives Sunday night? I missed it because I was watching the Sox and Yankees.

Should I be worried that I was entertained for 20 minutes by spinning a lid on my finger?

Has anyone had a faster fall from grace than Brittany Spears?

While the Pope's death saddened me, I was glad it knocked the Terri Schiavo coverage off the television.

Why is the Masters a tradition unlike any other?
(By the way, Official Brother and I will be at the Masters on Saturday, look for a running diary sometime next week.)