A group of us went to a Salt Lake Bees baseball game last weekend.
(By the way, I have a problem supporting teams whose mascots are INSECTS. I am a firm believer that teams should try to keep their mascot creatures in the "Bigger Than A Breadbox" category.)
The game was excellent. The weather was perfect. Our seats were great. Kelly had just settled back into her seat after thrilling our portion of the crowd with her own personal rendition of the YMCA dance when disaster struck. Apparently, a local bird had not been too keen on Kelly's dance moves, and decided to voice his opinion by landing a mess of bird poop right in Kel's lap.
According to the old superstition, being pooped on makes Kelly the "lucky" one. Personally, I think it's probably the other way around.
