10/31/04: Let's talk about how dumb I am

Or let's really not.  Whatever.

It's Halloween, and somehow I've failed to come up with a good outfit for the 36th consecutive year.  I think maybe I should go as somebody old (Mr. Magoo?), because that's how I've been feeling today:

1. I threw my back out playing hoops.  Even though I've never hurt my back before, I've always respected the seriousness of back injuries.  Seeing Bird and Mahorn and all those other guys, laying flat on their bellies in front of the bench, itching to play, left its mark on me. I have periodically been thankful for the fact that my back has remained pain-free for virtually my entire life. And somehow I knew that back pain would be the most immobilizing pain there is.  After today's severe tweak, I know I was right. It just sucks.  I can barely tie my shoes or sit down comfortably. I hope it goes away.  There's no reason a finely-tuned athlete such as myself should be suffering like this.
2. I saw cW tonight for dinner and a drink at the bar.  Home by 11ish. Everybody in the bar was in costume, some more creative than others. One guy had McEnroe '79 down pretty well, and one unkempt, makeup-smeared girl was going as "Walk of Shame."  A couple people we were talking to suggested that I should dress up.  When we asked them who I look like, they gave the answer "Donald Trump." Ouch Ouch Ouch.  I don't need Brad Pitt.  But can I at least get a Jason Bateman or a Fred Savage?
3. Something else happened today, but I am old and have forgotten.

OK, late Sunday night at some point, after all wise people have pulled the covers up to their chins and drifted off to beautiful sleep, I will post the next image for the google image search game.  I feel sorta bad about the way the first couple have turned out; I should have posted some clear rules at some point sooner than this.  But I feel like Joe M. legitimately got both answers, and my original intent was to make you guess exactly what I typed into the old google search bar, and he pretty much did that, so I am going to let his two points stand.  I think the game has been enough fun to be played at least one more time, and I have at least one more book worth giving away, so I hope you'll forgive me if your excellent answers went unrewarded this go-round.  Plus, you still have time to catch Joe. He ain't that bright. So here are the rules, updated through this moment but still very much subject to change:

1. I will post an image, possibly on this page, or perhaps on a page CLEARLY LINKED from this page, and that will be the image of the day.
2. You may start typing answers into the comments section at noon eastern; anything typed before then will be considered an attempt to ruin the game and will be ignored and/or deleted.  The first correct post-noon answer is the winner.
3. The goal is not just to submit a search term which brought up the image in question -- you have to guess the term my dirty little fingers actually typed into the search box, pretty much exactly as I typed it. I reserve the right to grant leeway.
4 The image must appear on the first three results pages for the search in question.  I may trim that to one page if nobody gets any answers right.
5. There must be something visible in the image that makes it a logical (but not necessarily obvious) result for that particular search.
6. You can just guess shit if you want, or you can check your guesses on google before submitting them. 
7. The first one to get three correct answers will receive a used copy of Steve Martin's reasonably charming 2000 novella Shopgirl, shipping and handling included.
8. Since Hugh's hours are slightly different than everyone else, he may submit one (1) answer via email prior to noon if he likes.  I will post this at noontimeish and it will count as his first guess.
9.  You can guess as often as you like.

Feel free to email me or post your thoughts, complaints, and addenda to these rules at any point.  I reserve the right to veto whatever the hell I want..

I know it's wrong, but I am happy for the Red Sox and their idiotic fans.  Although Manny's Jeter sign was bush league and goes a long way towards illustrating how new winning is to the Red Sox. You BEAT us.  BRUTALLY.  You don't need to taunt us.  It makes you look like amateurs, like you still consider us the gold standard.  You need to be happy for yourselves, not happy because we're unhappy.  Remember: Act like you've done it before.  Even if you never have. Punkasses.

I love my new phone. It does all sorts of amazing shit.  I'm so happy with it I think I will overlook the fact that it gets half the signal strength of my previous phone and I haven't had one clear call on it so far. If I wanted to have clear conversations, I would have bought something far less snazzy and toy-like.

That's about it, please let me know if you have any suggestions for a brilliant last-minute costume.