0-42

Okay, this is getting a little ridiculous. I just lost my forty-second game last night. Well actually I lost my thirty-second, thirty-third, thirty-fourth…, and forty-first game as well last night. I was on a serious TILT. After getting to thirty-nine, I begged for just “one more game” (I had been begging for just one more game for at least the last five games); I was granted my request, but you know Kenji, he is cruel, as is the whole Japanese race, so it came with a condition. The condition was – if I lost I had to pound a 20 ounce can of Monster energy drink. It was 10pm. It is not a good idea to EVER pound an energy drink, especially approaching bedtime, but I have a serious gambling problem, so I accepted. Needless to say, I lost and pounded the drink.

What happened after I opened my throat and consumed the Monster is interesting. No, it is not interesting that I started making calls to the west-coast to give myself something to do; no, it is not interesting that I read an entire magazine cover-to-cover; no, it is not interesting that I brushed my teeth three times before bed and I can still feel the sugar caked-on-and-tearing-away at my enamel; nor, is it interesting that I had a dream my front tooth died, grew, turned to wood, and I accidentally pulled it out while playing with it. No! What is interesting is those last two games we played, after my eyes stopped watering were perhaps the best games I have ever played. No I didn’t win, please. Though, I do expect to win w/in the next ten games (if not ten games, then ten days fo’ sure). But, it was how I played those last two games. The Monster helped with my reaction time. Further, I was attacking the ball. Certainly, I further proved my opponent superior, but I got him to confess that he was afraid of my new Monster-induced attack style.

I now know what I have to do. It is so simple. It is as simple as the conversation that little-Bonds had with a younger pre-injury-every-season Griffey when Bonds told Griffey that he knew what he had to do to compete with the very hulkish-looking and Home-Run hitting Sosas and McGwires. Yep, I need to juice. In horse-racing they refer to it as drinking a milkshake (This better be an accurate term, Laura!). I will sweat like Giambi and train to the Kelis classic:

My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard,And their likeIt's better than yours,Damn right it's better than yours, I can teach you, But I have to charge

I know it is just ping pong, but this is getting serious. Someone circled the L in Cecil that is written on the score board. Meghan, I know it was you. Meghan, you broke my heart. Meghan should not be involved especially since I can batter her [at ping pong] with either hand, literally. Meghan should be studying for her architecture exam; Meghan should be packing so she can MOVE OUT; Meghan should write her name on the board and circle the H. Kidding, it is all love. I’m just ranting and raving and raging probably because I am still juiced from last night.