Here's a little word problem for you guys. (Remember those things from math class? They were always infuriatingly worded and posed nonsensical situations that would only improbably occur in everyday life.)
Q: How many times can Choo Choo play the Dies Irae movement of the Verdi Requiem before she stumbles home cross-eyed and knock-kneed and proceeds to stare slack-jawed at the Cardinals-Dodgers game for a full hour before she realizes that she is famished and should probably shove some sustenance into her face?
A: Seven. (Along with several iterations of the Sanctus and Libera me movements, because fugue it, why not? I am very sorry to have subjected to you that terrible pun, but that is the highest level of wit that I am capable of at the moment. I am truly, deeply sorry.)
Top of the ninth, Cards are up by 2, and a pile of greasy, delicious food will be delivered to my door any minute now. Calm down with the Day of Anger stuff, Verdi. This day ain't turning out to be so bad.