Thursday, September 25, 2008

Suspension of the State of Non-Hiatus

OK, you know what? Someone send me a note when the White Sox get a fucking bullpen. Until then, they're dead to me.

POSTSCRIPT: One O. Ball sez the following -- a slightly bitter and alcohol-influenced email from me to him late last night -- would have made a much better post. And I think he's right.

Washington Mutual fails tonight. Which, although it was pretty much expected for a while, is the biggest bank failure in U fucking S his fucking tory.

So what does the Trib website have up for its top story? Yep, of course. White Sox swept by Twins and blow first place. Almost certainly to miss the playoffs.

I have two responses. Fuck you Tribune. And fuck you to hell White Sox. Fuck you with the fuck power of a thousand fuck suns.

They desperately needed to improve the relief pitching. So what did they do? Sure. Sign Ken Griffey Jr. An aging, way way over the hill power hitter who can't hardly hit a ball out of the infield anymore at his advanced age of approximately 974 (ok, 38, which is the same thing, in baseball years).

The White Sox relief pitching staff has blown more games this year than Andy Dick has blown dicks. Which isn't even possible, because Andy Dick has blown even more dicks than the number of people who have been born since the dawn of time ... but somehow it is true anyway.

Therefore, they can gnaw upon that which pees in my toilet. Gnaw and ruminate, you cow-like retarded fuckers. I take shits into the mouths of your unborn children. And you don't even want to know what I do to your already born ones.

Bah. Everyone can eat shit and get cancer. I'm going to bed.

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