Hee.
I want to say something about "Opening Day," but ... no. It's almost as good as the bowling book Kate and I wanted to title "Up Her Alley". ::nods::
'Our Mrs. Reynolds'
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risqué (and frisqué), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
Hee.
I want to say something about "Opening Day," but ... no. It's almost as good as the bowling book Kate and I wanted to title "Up Her Alley". ::nods::
Well, it's like the cover for that Strike Zone book-- he looks like he's pitching right at her crotch and I'm sorry, if there's anything less sexy I can think of than having a 98mph fastball hurled at my hooha.
YOWCH.
That cover and the title combined is uncomfortably reminiscent of the Labia Dress, if you ask me.
"Right here, baby! Come on, gimme what you got!"
"Put it right in the pocket, baby-- uh-huh... that's the way!"
I can only think of quotes from Bull Durham, which I think wouldn't work for titles, since, you know, theft.
I'm hiding out in the bedroom while The Boy vaccums the house (except the bedroom, of course). My allergies have gone batshit in the past couple of days thanks to all the newly blooming plants/trees/etc. outside. I can handle pollen OR pet hair, but not both. So I've been doped up on 2 antihistamines all weekend and cursing the evils of pollen, my old nemesis.
t edit I *could,* of course, do something useful in the bedroom (we're actually cleaning the house today in a more-than-haphazard, half-assed manner), like change the bedsheets. But no. The internets need me.
I can only think of quotes from Bull Durham, which I think wouldn't work for titles, since, you know, theft.
Actually, you can use stuff like that without it being considered theft. I think. And besides, this is only a working title. I'm not one of those writers who has to have incense burning and the chair placed just so and the rising moon in the seventh house and my favorite brand of diet green tea at hand in order to begin writing. I just need two things: a working title and a playlist.
The playlist is proving surprisingly easy. Thank goodness for baseball's reliance on songs from the 70s and 80s.
Play at the plate
Sliding for home
At the wall
Warning track
Itching to steal
Rounding third
No, loving nonsense poetry and Edward Lear to death doesn't help me with omnis' post.
A local sports guy used to write a baseball column called "Trouble If It's Fair," which I thought was a great name.
Infield Fly Rule (That just makes me laugh. Skip Caray used to do a talk show and someone asked about the infield fly rule at least once every show. He lost his temper over it frequently. He developed an explanation that he would say very fast in about 10 seconds. People would ask about it just to make him mad. I'm having a lot of trouble facing baseball season without Skip and Pete Van Wieren, who announced his retirement shortly after Skip's death. I guess after 33 years, it's hard to think about breaking in a new play-by-play partner.)
On Deck
Designated Hitter (but only if it's a metaphor)
No Crying in Baseball
Long Season
Sliding Home
Choking Up
In The Gap
Flight of the Enchanted Tater
(Okay, that last one is the name my stepdad and brother gave to a hit that's just *drilled* over the wall.)