Baseball Fever, My Eye!(or, Ozzie's Not Here, Man)

After work this afternoon, I took a nap, cuz that's how I roll. And I woke up while dreaming about listening to Cheech Marin sing a song called "White Sox Winner," which I think my brain wrote itself. Although with Cheech singing it, it could have also been called "White Sox Wiener." Your choice. It went something like

Winner (or wiener), winner, White Sox winner!
Winner, winner, White Sox winner!
Winner, winner
Gotta White Sox winner now!

(Cheech talking: "Hey, mama, even Juan Uribe's stealing bases now, heh heh heh! Look out! Heh heh heh!")

OK, so it won't win any Dream Grammies.

If that's not weird enough, here's this clip from the best kids' show a stoner ever enjoyed (barring, perhaps, Gumby, although that's more of an acid show, but I digress) -- Xuxa Celebration:



My Name Is Cheech, The School Bus Driver