Some days the world’s just a fuzzier place than other days.
Is that a toilet seat? Are those baseballs? Why are there baseballs in my bathroom? Why is there a toilet in the dugout?
Is this a good time to just charge full speed ahead, drop trou, and sit down on it to see what it feels like?
(Okay, that last bit is gross and I was going to delete it, but I can’t stop laughing, so my nervous breakdown is now your “What the hell is going on with Paul?!” moment.)