The other night this "dream" came to me as I slept. It sums things up.
In the dream, I had organized some sort of Dodgers "Fan Fest." Even in the dream I knew this was to drum up interest about the team despite 1. awful play and 2. waiting for an ownership change to follow through. So, whatever, I walking around this fair, and who comes up to me but Frank McCourt. "Thank you for setting this up - it will really help the team." My dream mind is racing on what to tell this fuck, but before I say anything to him, he says "Here - this is for you. Thanks again." It's cash. He walks away.
My dream mind reeling, I take a few steps and try to collect myself. I look down to see what cash he gave me.
Two $25 dollar bills.
Even my dream brain knew there's no such thing...and as I thought "What a slimeball! He gave me fake money?!" I awoke. In life real, and during brain movies, Frank McCourt is a fucking sleaze.
Oh, and the Dodgers? More like Dogshits.
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