Literally everything went right last night: Pitching, hitting, fucking stoolies completing my serendipitous mission to find the girl with oh so much pain behind her eyes that TBS showed moments before the final out. Is there anything you bloodhounds won’t find if it has the tiniest bit to do with pussy? Bravo. Perfect night all around. Tonight the lefty takes the mound and locks up a 2-0 lead with his crippling death stare. Smell the glove, Andy. Bite the glove, Andy. Die, TBS broadcast crew. 10 to 28.