Procrastinatin' with some Kleinballs while I curse myself

Well, in case there was ever any doubt, it's now official: I'm an idiot.

Somehow, over the last several weeks, I came under the very erroneous impression that Sam and Sarah were arriving this morning. I mentally circled the date in my head, and all errands and activities this week were planned so that I'd be free today to pick them up from the airport and start our two-week adventure together.

I emailed Sam and Sarah on Wednesday, the day they were gonna head off from New York... that is, if they were to arrive in Sydney on Friday morning. I told them that I couldn't believe they'd be leaving New York "today" and that I'd be waiting for them at the airport on Friday morning. I even provided this link to my post about their visit, in which I clearly say that they'd be coming on Friday morning.

Sam and Sarah responded to my email. Below are some excerpts from each of their emails:

• Email #1, from Sarah: "Still awake haven't slept yet way too pumped."
• Email #2, from Sam: "I'll confirm the flight when I get to work. I can't believe this. 2 weeks in oz baby!!"
• Email #3, from Sarah: "Can't believe we leave tomorrow!!!"

Any mention in these three emails that I was under the very wrong impression of which day they'd arrive on?? NO! In fact, Sarah's first email almost confirms my understanding. Was she so excited that she couldn't sleep two nights before she was scheduled to leave? Because that's the only way to interpret her words.

It wasn't until Sarah's last email, in which she says they'd be leaving "tomorrow" (in response to my email in which I said -- and I quote -- "Holy shit, you guys leave today. TODAY!!!") that I realized something was amiss. For not only did she say that they'd be leaving "tomorrow" (Thursday), but according to my calculations (which were based on my faulty understanding), she should have been about 30,000 feet over Colorado at the time she sent it. So I searched through my old emails, found Sam's original email with their flight info, and there it was: arrive Saturday morning. Yep, I'm an idiot.

ANYWAY.

Now I've been sitting in my apartment all day with nothing to do because I had left my schedule wide open to hang out with them. Now there's nothing. So in an effort to make the day pass, I figure I'd throw a couple of Kleinballs out there.

Man beats up 'kangaroo Jackie Chan' in house. A good and intriguing headline, no doubt, but after reading this story, my lord, the possibilities are endless! Someone get the New York Post on the phone! A few options that I very hastily came up with in about 3.4 seconds:

• Man confuses kangaroo with lunatic ninja, goes Seven Samurai on its ass.
• Kangaroo shreds mans underpants.
• Chef cooks kangaroo, kangaroo's cousin attempts to exact revenge on chef's family.

Okay, I'll be the first to admit that these all could use some work -- I swear I used to be good at writing headlines -- but there are some beautiful tidbits in that article. One thing's for sure: only in Australia.

Peanut butter sales are plummeting. I've had nightmares about this. (Wait, maybe this is a good thing? All the more for me to horde?)

You may remember my Movember adventure from last November, and that for those people who donated on my behalf, I sent out a daily email with pictures of my slow-to-grow moustache. Robert, who will himself be landing here in exactly one week's time -- and don't worry, I'm positive of this date -- put together the following brilliant video that chronicles my 'stache:

This baseball off-season, if the Red Sox had signed CC Sabathia to anything comparable to what the Yankees ultimately signed him for, I would have been furious. Insanely overweight pitchers (and he's the second heaviest in baseball!!!) with huge workloads over the past two seasons (including many starts on three days rest late last year) don't exactly have the best track record one, two or seven years into the future. So I was all for the Yankees signing him to that albatross of a deal: $161 million over seven years. Anyway, I know it's only Spring Training,* but nonetheless, this pleases me to no end. Let the glorious revisionist history begin.

*And of all people, I'm the one to generally put zero stock in how players perform in March.

The National Rugby League here begins its season tonight. And just to make things really interesting in the lead-up to the season, earlier this week, one of the best players on the defending champions was accused of sexually assaulting a 17-year-old girl. As if that's not insane enough, a team executive recently had the tenacity to fault the league's salary cap for creating an atmosphere in which that might happen. Riiiiiiiiight. Anyway, I hadn't even heard of this ridiculous assertion in Australia until it was picked up by an American web site. I'm not even going to try to explain; you can read the absurd logic for yourself.

Along with the beginning of the NRL season comes the beginning of the fantasy leagues, and most of my friends in my neighborhood are all in the same league. I thought I could be bad when watching a game that had implications for me in fantasy baseball, basketball or football. But these guys... yikes. They take it to a whole new level.

I guess it's comforting to know that I'm not the craziest person out there. Just an idiot.