On the other hand, I don’t really care about astroturf and the designated hitter

I’ve been getting the Chronicles of Flipia in the mail every day for the past week, so now I feel like I have to update every day too or I’m a slacker. Anyway, he’s been doing this list, something that was inspired by one of Micro’s English assignments. “Write about what you believe.” Flip believes that if Mo were as hot as Gwen Stefani, Save Ferris would be the bigger band. And that craft beer is worth the higher price. And that most of the problems of the world can be solved by shooting enough of the right people, except for the problem of knowing who, exactly, the right people to shoot are.

I think that last one’s kinda deep.

Without further ado, I believe:

That the car radio should have two settings: Loud and Off

That my sister is smarter than me, but that almost no one else in the world is

That whenever I hear “How Great Thou Art,” it means that my grandfather is near

That one Sunday in the winter of 1998, in the Basilica at Notre Dame, Mary laughed at me and that a few months later, I gave an honest to God angel a ride to a bus stop

That if I live to be a hundred and ten, I will still never be able to hear “Lowrider” without singing in my head jimmyjimmyjimmy Shea, I’m calling Jimmy

That there is a papal dispensation allowing Catholics in the diocese of Detroit to eat muskrat during Lent

That the instigator rule has done more harm than good to the game of hockey

That science and evolution are two of the best arguments for the existence of a creative power in the universe

That the Tudors were pretenders to the English throne and had no legitimate claim to the crown

That the answer to the Drake Perfect Restaurant Equation is > 1

That Captain Wentworth is sexier than Mr. Darcy, but not by much

That if I didn’t have expense, obligations, and relationships, I would be perfectly content to spend my life curled on the couch with a good book

That someday, I will beat Resident Evil

That Tim Horton's kicks Krispy Kreme's ass every day of the week, and twice when the crullers are hot