A few years back I invented (or I think I did) the julain: A three-line poem of a set meter with the rhyme scheme xaa.

I have seen double julains of abb acc. And I’ve seen double julains of xaa xbb.

Today, I saw that someone on pffa had invented the julainnelle, a villanelle variation that uses julains for the individual stanzas: AbB baA abB bbA abB abAB. I actually think it works better than “regular” villanelles.

How about the julainnet? xaa xbb xcc xdd ee, or perhaps abb acc dee dff gg?

I think that has real possibilities.

So it’s afternoon. Sue me.

It worked! I put the reverse-whammy on the team by trash talking them. Woo!

CC’s back to pitching extremely well, and he has cut his ERA nearly in half. The pitching looks good. The hitting? Eh.

Grady Sizemore missed the game yesterday, ending his consecutive games streak at something over 300. I’m a believer in days off, no matter what the vocation.

The Indians have played Boston and New York from the AL East. Boston looked good. NY looks exceptionally mediocre. I’m desperately hoping another team can challenge them in the East.

The AL Central is a bad division, to date. Will 85 wins take it? 87, as in ’97? I begin to think so. The Indians have the pitching to contend, but are burdened with some of the most erratic hitting I’ve ever seen.

Though no amount of data will convince me that Hafner looks as bad as he did last year. I see something positive there. I’m likely delusional, but I see it! I do!!

We’re doing an anthology. Check it out.

Instead of cake, I had a birthday banana split.

I think the banana split is pretty good, but could use some refining.

I’m thinking cherry topping instead of chocolate for one of the little mountains.

And there should be pistachios involved somewhere. Add a little salty to the sweet.

Hot diggity.

My joints are spreading a rumor that I’m OLD. I have been unable to convince them otherwise. I need a Snopes page.

Kansas City has a pitcher named Gil Meche (pronounce Mesh). Steve just called him Gilgamesh.

I said, “I hope Travis Hafner goes all Enkidu on his ass!”

And then I was embarrassed by my own dorkiness.

The Indians really suck.

I don’t know if I can muster much more of a post than that. Last week I said I thought Byrd was toast but CC would recover. Obviously, I’m an idiot.

The rest of the AL Central ain’t looking too hot, either. The only thing the Indians have going for them right now is their competition isn’t the sort that you expect to hang tough.

But since the Indians aren’t hanging tough, it doesn’t actually matter.

I’m still watching, like a fool. Tonight is an off night, so perhaps I can muster a tiny bit of enthusiasm for the upcoming Kansas City series. The problem? CC starts the first game versus Gil Meche.

It’s going to suck.

At this point, I’m hoping that if I say one thing, the opposite happens. CC will lose again. The Indians will lose 100 games. Andy Marte will never get another at-bat.

The only thing I can say with any certainty is this: I’ll be watching.

I watched the new “A Room with a View” a little while ago. It just doesn’t work.

All of the actors are fine, but the framing story? Grim and invented. Blah. You don’t get a feel for the life at the pensione, Miss Lavish, the Misses Alan, the silliness of Cecil Vyse, the desperation of Mr. Emerson that George be happy, the panicked and repressed Lucy. It’s just not there.

And I missed the opera.

Of course, I think the 1985 film is one of the most perfect and glorious adaptations of a book to a film ever, so it had a lot to live up to.

The Masterpiece “Sense and Sensibility,” on the other hand, was lovely, even when the music struck a discordant note with the action.

A couple of things have happened to erase all of the fun of napo. I’m not deluded enough to think I’ll get around to reading all the poems I’m missing in the meantime.

Fire Joe Morgan.

Even if you don’t follow baseball, you might get a chuckle out of some of it.

If you do follow baseball, it’s golden.

… and I’ve been getting Rickrolled a lot lately, I watch the video.

I can’t help myself.