"Beloved" is not a word I use a lot. Yet whenever I talk about the Yankees on this blog, I find myself saying "beloved." My beloved Yankees this, my beloved Yankees that, etc etc. Why do I do this, I wondered; it just automatically seems to happen. So I scanned my brain for a minute to see where this may have came from, and realized what it was.
Jesus. Is there ANY part of my life that can't be traced back to Costanza?
SIDE NOTE: did David Puddy ever say a single sentence that wasn't funny?
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