1.  Like everyone else in the sports blogging world (not that this is a sports blog, but whatever), I’ll take a moment to pimp GQ’s absorbing report about the Marvin Harrison case.  It’s a strange but ultimately not unique story, I’m thinking, among the inner city life that most people only encounter on HBO.  The report has seemingly gotten the new Philadelphia prosecutor to turn the case over to the FBI for another look.  All in all, I can’t say that the case was handled badly the first time, honestly.  None of the people involved want to tell the truth about it, since it just isn’t done.  It gets settled their way, one way or another, without the police involved.  If it wasn’t for the fact that Harrison has a lot of money and is therefore a target for civil suits, this would have gone away long ago.

2.  In the vein of my wife’s wonderfully hilarious post the other day, here are some of the weird thoughts that pop into my own head: all the world’s firearms mysteriously stop working, and swords and daggers come back into vogue; I construct a time machine for the express purpose of punching Lance Bevins in the face repeatedly, and I don’t care that he’d just be 12 years old; more often than not, when I’m talking to a work authority figure, I wonder precisely what would happen if I just hauled off and popped them in the mouth, and I can no longer hear a word their saying as I try/try not to imagine it.

3.  Do I have deep-seated violent tendencies?

4.  Maybe, but I’d happily beat those idiots who cut people off and make the congestion happen at the I-95/896 exit every single day of the week within an inch of their cowardly, miserable little lives.

5.  I want a nice thick fat slab of rare prime rib.  I wish I knew of a good place to get one.