Thanks to the sad and sorry Cubs game, I discovered that my sure (though temporary) cure for back pain is also the sure (though temporary) cure for Pill-induced nausea. Yes, my friends, there is little that cheap beer won�t fix. And it was dollar PBR night at our usual end-of-the-night bar.

It could�ve been so beautiful, but I don�t understand what happened. I do understand I�m weary of the excuse about the fan interfering and am horrified at how the media has aided and abetted in crucifying the poor guy. Not his fault the bloody bases were loaded when the mishap occurred. Neither was is his fault that Wood walked so many Marlins in last night�s game.

The fans at Wrigley were so quiet last night. They seemed to give up hope far too early. We, down here at the ol� mother ship, were loud. Reb was all decked out in her jersey and cap, distributing boxes of Cracker Jacks and attempting to rally the troops. Why, not even Billy Corgan could bring 'em around.

Rough night for a Wednesday.

Oh, and thanks for the input on the birth control issue. I dunno. At this point, the evil Pill seems necessary, both to fix dramatic irregularity (bad when one is quite late and knows the reasons condoms can fail) and to alleviate pain. I�m not pleased about it, but under present circumstances, it seems the best bet, unless the nausea and general bitchiness fail to peter off. (I can�t even type those two words without blushing and giggling.)

Now that I feel like I�m twelve again, check out the delightful Fantagraphics news. My favorite bit: "Eric Reynolds, director of marketing for Fantagraphics, says�'We're this punk rock publisher, but we all melt like little girls when we read Charlie Brown.'"

Rock.