I'm not into baseball. I haven't purchased a pack of baseball cards since I was thirteen, when anything branded as "collectible" was a special treasure guaranteed to increase in value, and a collectible with foil on the front was a treasure to be hoarded and kept safe. At that age it made sense to spend all of my money on sports cards, comic books, and comic book character cards, then inspect them greedily, absorbing every detail which had no bearing on my life.
Of course, I grew out of it. By that I mean that I moved on to collectible card games, graphic novels, Warhammer, and proceeded to follow that dark path to its natural conclusion: Riding out my remaining days by writing internet articles about video games.
It seems that the intervening years have brought quite a few changes to baseball cards. Topps has labeled their 2012 collection the "Ultra Stats Series", claiming to present more baseball information on a single card than you would hear in an entire afternoon with Billy Crystal. Just look at these things.
Did Louis C.K. jerk off in front of two female comics? And why are these ladies squandering an opportunity to learn from a comedy legend?
Elliot said my breakup must have been due to the sweater curse, an unexplained phenomenon where anyone who gives their significant other a hand-knit sweater gets dumped. The only way to break the curse, Elliot said, was to destroy the sweater.
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