Stand up if you hate the Yankees.

Let's make one thing clear: I'm not a baseball fan. To me, the televised baseball game is up there with "America's Next Top Bulimic" in terms of vapid spectacles. But I do believe the civilized world owes the Red Sox a tip of the cap, not for staging the greatest comeback in baseball history and ousting the Yankees (who, as even the most ardent Bomber booster will tell you, embody all that is wrong and evil in the world), but for silencing the embarrassingly lame (and overtly homoerotic) "Who's your daddy?" chant that makes Yankee Stadium sound like a gay bath house. You'd think a city that seems to take pride in its rough-around-the-edges image would adopt a chant that was a little less, shall we say, minty? They could take some lessons from English football chants.

Your tax dollars at work.

Holy shizzit! It's been nearly a month since I last rapped at you. In that time, I've turned 28, made an Important Grownup Decision, drank too much at least twice, smoked less, played video games, started books I never finished and saw some movies I really enjoyed ("Shaun of the Dead", "Mean Girls", "The Girl Next Door") and others I did not like quite as much ("Coffee and Cigarettes", "Hero"). I was resoundingly underwhelmed by the new Interpol disc, but blown away by the new K-OS. These days, I'm mostly looking forward to AHL hockey, the K-OS show on Oct. 22, Grand Theft Auto San Andreas, Halloween Boo Night, Tiga and (further down the road) the Dietzche V. 7" release. See you soon.