Monday Two Three...

Few random things on my mind again. I seem to lack the concentration to just talk about one thing anymore.

One
For the last few years it seems every summer Tom Izzo is attached to some rumors about an NBA team wanting to draw him away from MSU. It's the only stressful time in my life. Izzo is my guy. He and Chuck Daly are my coaches. It would be devestating to me and to millions of other fans if he left. Apparently Cleveland is offering him a 5 year 6mil per year deal and though I'm fairly confident he won't take it, there's still a possibility. I guess the most frightening thing about it is that Izzo exudes loyalty and confidence. He is currently under contract for the next few years and has said that he wants to win at least one more National Championship with State before he ever considers leaving and I believe him. I believe him more than any other person even remotely related to sports. So with all my eggs in the Izzo basket, if he fails, society fails.

Two
Ants in my pants. Or at least my apartment. For those who haven't had the pleasure of living with me, I'm particular. I like things clean and I like things put back where they go. Ants don't care about this. They are coming out from the gap between the tiles and my bathtub which needs to be recaulked and it's starting to get annoying. I don't kill bugs and I'm not sure what to do. I keep cleaning everything hoping they'll go away on their own since there is nothing for them to feast on but if they aren't gone soon, I'm going to have to poison them which makes me sad. They aren't doing anything to me, but for lack of a better word it's just kinf of gross.

Three
Kids, man. Kids. My bedroom windows face an adjacent condo that houses a family of four. A mom, a dad and two kids. Two little kids. Boys. Two boys about 3 and 5. By all accounts the 5 year old is normal. But man, that three year old loves to cry. Loves it! Like it's his job. All day and all night. In the winter it used to be funny. I would hear them go outside to play and within five minutes (literally) the kid would cry and I would laugh. But now that it's nice out, I keep my windows open and so do they. So I hear this kid cry all day and all night. Sometimes I wonder why this kid is up and I'm pretty sure it's to cry. I bet he sets his alarm to wake up and start crying. Anyway, if my kid cries like that I'm sending him to India.

Anyway, go big or go home.

-M, p, z & shredder