Another night’s sleep ruined by the ghosts of dead ball players. I told them I can’t help them. That I don’t know what the numbers 13, 24, 57 mean, that I don’t know anybody named “Doc” and that, yes, I know, no one strikes out in heaven.

I DO NOT CARE.

Either deliver my letters to dead bowlers or get out!

Chris Weagel

Chris Weagel writes about the intersection of technology and parenting for Wired Magazine. No he doesn't. He can't stand that shit.

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