DelinO Lost Weekend Part Deux

Technically, my two days of baseball wound up being three days. And none of it took place in the Valley. But damn, Charlize was frikkin' hot.

Memorial Day brought me down to that other LA baseball team. Call yourself Los Angeles all you want, Angels. You're still Orange County through and through.

And now my car smells like an Angels fan - self-righteous and polished with a touch of Pujols regret.

Speaking of, how about that Pujols Plush?

I've already designed an Andre Ethier action figure which I'll be selling from my trunk.

There was also a rare Johnny Utah sighting.

Plenty of fruit.

And one of the most ridiculous baseball games I've seen in years.

Weaver went down with a back injury after a half dozen miserable pitches. The Angels defense treated the ball like it was covered in lard. (Or, for you Thai food fans, LARB.) But it helps when you're playing Phil T-Ball Hughes. One walk off homer later, I was enjoying the fireworks from the parking lot.

Just when I was ready to tip my hat to Anaheim, my car's gas light went on, and I found an exit with zero gas stations. I pulled in with one mile - literally, one mile - to spare.

All the fruit and plush Pujols didn't make up for that agita! But if they keep beating the Yankoffs, all is forgiven.

Coming Soon: DelinO Lost Weekend Part Shalosh (that's Hebrew) - Bobble Booyah!