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I think we have crazy people in our family...

I was wandering the rest of the SportsBlogs family of blogs when I came across this Barry Bonds post by Grant at the famed McCovey Chronicles site.

Now, me being something of a Bonds supporter, (and I mean that in the loosest, most roundabout way you can possibly imagine), I was looking forward to reading a Giant's fan's perspective. What got me though, was this:

There's a reason why you spent the first three hours of your honeymoon searching for rubber bands, fellas.
Wha-what!? Dude, what the heck does that mean? Did I miss something? Rubberbands? The first three hours of my honeymoon were spent on a plane to Hawaii, trying to figure out the logistics of the Mile High Club. Man, that rubberbands thing sounds really nasty/pervy/painful.

Fortunately, for my own sensibilities, I re-read the previous sentence:
The only medical experience most of these people have comes from when they took apart a Cobra Commander figure in 1988.
And even then it took me a little while to remember that G.I. Joes had rubberbands in there holding everything together. Oh man, what a relief I figured that out before I brought it up at the dinner table tonight.