Let me just say that this was possibly the greatest day ever. We opened the Globe @ 11:30 with a couple of rounds, then walked over to Fenway to soak in the sweetness. Walked around the stadium, which was buzzing like crazy, then hit the right field roof deck, where we promptly ganked ample rail space for a perfect view, save the morons down below of us.

Beckett went through a rough, 40+ pitch first, but Towers did too, and the Sox had an early 3-1 lead. Beckett started getting quick, easy outs and steamrolled through the 7th. Meanwhile, Papi jacked one, Wily Mo dropped one, and Lowell continued the revitalization project by going 4-fo-4 w/ 3 dubs. Nasty.

Pappy mowed down clowns in the 9th for the save, and we all filed out, despite repeated attempts by the idiot in front of us to get me to beat the crap out of him. All in all, a well conceived, perfectly executed, and highly memorable vacation day to see the Sox open at home. Can’t wait to do it again.

My photo gallery*
*some of the pics are blurry cause my camera’s messed up
ESPN’s photo gallery

So we got a free show courtesy of Amy and Jack Daniels on a Monday night that I just happen to have the next day off. Explicit details to follow. We hit Qdoba before the show and rolled the ‘Dise like it wudn’t no thang, got our freaky drink on, and began gankin’ JD schwag from the JD chicks.

Some Southern-ass band (I’m guessing Tennesee), called Joe Smith or Jacque Jones or something, opened up for a boring, snoring, choring ten songs or so.

Then Das Neue Pornographiken rolled on stage, sans Nekolicious, and busted through some serious West Canadian Coast throwback rockstock. AC “Don’t Call Me Slater” Newman was the real deal, chugging his jambastic headrock through a tunnel of marketing and pseudo-sex appeal. Shirts! Crap! Jack! It was worth every rip of street cred and light-hearded headbang to get to the encore of magnificence rarely seen since three days ago.

Go Canada.