The scrotumtightening sea.

So much for the Rockies 8 game losing streak … They beat the Sox 6-3 at Coors in a frustrating "load 'em 'and leave 'em" game …

Mike:
Happy fucking Bloomsday …

 

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Susan/Circle:
Fitting. Watching the Red Sox strand umpteen men on base is as painful as reading Joyce's Ulysses.

 

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Mike:
Now 4 an'a half back … Adrift in the sea. The snotgreen sea. The scrotumtightening sea.

 

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Susan/Circle:
Being a Red Sox fan is the happy hunting ground of all minds that have lost their balance.

 

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Mike:
Didya see the FDA is going to approve a surgical implant that stimulates the brain and is said to cure depression?

 

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Susan/Circle:
Oh, yeah. Vagus nerve stimulation. Sign me the fuck up for that shit.

 

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Colorado Kool Aid

Interleague play continues, as the Red Sox head to Denver to face the Rockies …

Doug:
Ah, Coors Field, where the air's so thin, even Cesar Crespo could go yard. [Laughs]

 

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Bill:
Yeah, and we get to see the pitchers swing the wood. Love that fucking shit.

 

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Doug:
Ah, right, you geriatrics can recall a nostalgic time before the DH arrived. How Norman Rockwell. [Laughs]

 

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Bill:
[Laughs] That's correct my labrose lad. And not only that, I remember when Coors beer was considered exotic, a symbol of status …

 

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Doug:
Get the fuck out! Coors beer? That rotgut?

 

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Bill:
I shit you not. It's the fucking premise that drives the movie Smokey and the Bandit.

 

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Doug:
Wait a fucking second … that movie had a plot? I thought its only point was to show car chases and boob shots of the young and frisky Sally Fields? [Laughs]

 

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Bill:
Fuck no, Bandit was some serious shit. A fucking Finnegan's Wake of the 70s. Jeez, next you'll be telling me that interleague play is a phony novelty, just another cynical gimmick to try to dupe the public into the ballpark. [Laughs]

 

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Doug:
Fuck that shit. I love interleague play even more than the return of that skanky Hilton slut on my widescreen.

 

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I hate second place more than any man.

Pedro is dominant again and Boston beats Los Angeles 4-1 …

Bill:
Pedro seems back to his old self, Nomar is back like we've always remembered him, Nixon returns this week, interleague play goes well, hell, even D-Lowe has been impressive in this last two starts …

 

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Mike:
But you're wondering why you don't feel better than you do?

 

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Bill:
Absofuckinglutely. I don't know what it is … maybe it's knowing this team has yet to put together an extended win streak?

 

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Mike:
While the motherfucking Yankees have been on one hella extended winning streak since losing that April series to the Sox.

 

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Bill:
Exactly. We take two steps forward and two steps back …

 

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Mike:
And you know it ain't fiction just a natural fa-ct? [Laughs]

 

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Bill:
I can't sleep. Twitching in the sheets — to face the summer in second again …

 

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Mike:
That's clearly trouble.

 

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Bill:
I'm under this sheet thinking my nerves are hampered by history — the most memorable concern of our kind is the guts it takes to face the summer again.

 

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Mike:
Dizzied by the almosts the ankles and the years …

 

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Bill:
I pull the sheets to my neck. I turn my ass to the wall. I hate second place more than any man.

 

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When in Lisbon …

It's a sweet morning for Red Sox fans as the club beat the Padres and have won 4 of their last 5 …

Susan:
Was Nomie's wall shot sweet last night or what?

 

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Doug:
Fucking A right it was!

 

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Susan:
I thought I was ready but it was like thunder you hear on the phone when you're talking to someone where the storm is. You know it's coming moving east like most weather but you still wake up, startled, dazed.

 

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Doug:
Whoa, down girl. [Laughs] But aren't you worried about the strikeouts? The Sox have now struck out nine or more times in a game 25 times. Last season the Sox did it a total of 20 times.

 

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Susan:
You're fucking kidding me, right? After all the bearly fathomable good contained in last night's win, you're going to be a tool and bring up some errant stat just to be negative? Jeez.

 

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Doug:
I'm just sayin' …

 

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Susan:
Just sayin' what, that you're a total fucking loser? [Laughs] You know a good half, if not more, of Red Sox Nation could benefit from a little of that Portugese action.

 

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Doug:
No kidding. In Lisbon, no need to shoot the sherrif nor the motherfucking deputy. Ooh, ooh, oo-ooh.

 

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Mission Style

The Red Sox look sloppy and get beat 8-1 by the Padres …

Bill:
Glad I waited through that motherfucking two and half hour rain delay to see the Sox offense explode on the Padres. [Laughs] What a long ass miserable night …

 

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Doug:
Fittingly, the Padres had the Sox in missionary position for an all night hump fest.

 

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Bill:
On the bright side, nice to see Nomar back.

 

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Doug:
Sure, but you know the conventional wisdom though, "Enjoy watching Nomie while you can, Sox fans. These are the final days of Nomah in Boston"

 

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Bill:
Yeah, who needs rain to spoil your picnic when you've got the Curly Haired Boyfriend by your side. [Laughs]

 

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Doug:
See that the Tuna got his ass in hot water for his Jap Play comment.

 

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Bill:
Poor Tuna, he's not known for being sensitive. Remember when he referred to Terry Glenn as "she" in that press conference? Now that was a classic moment in New England sports history.

 

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Doug:
No shit. You know times are fucking tough when even Bill Parcells is going all pussy on us.

 

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Bill:
Fuck right. The old Tuna would have said, "The best way to counter the 'Jap Play' is with the 'A-Bomb.' Any more questions?" [Laughs]

 

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Doug:
Speaking of fucking bombs and nuclear winter, three and a half in back of the Bronx fucking Bombers and falling fast. Time to start making the booze and pain pill cocktail again.

 

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No need to fear, Martinez is here!

There's no other way to say it … the office reverberates …

Bill:
Petey!

 

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Susan:
Peteeeeeey!!!

 

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Mike:
Obey Pedro!

 

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Tara:
The heat is back! The wrist soreness was a precursor to the return of the velociraptor!

 

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Doug:
94 miles per fucking hour over and over?

 

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Bill:
A full frontal flummoxing!

 

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Susan:
Petey, you know it's because of you the my hair won't stop moaning, that you've got everything that makes my blood reach out for you through these cracked Boston nights …

 

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Bill:
Petey just needs the summer heat to dish the high heat.

 

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Doug:
Bring on the gangbang weather! Bring on sac sagging weather!

 

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How Soon Is Now?

No game on Monday, but the Red Sox and fans prepare for the start of interleague play …

Bill:
I fucking love it when asexual [cough] British celebrities famous for being a crybaby dabble in our politics.

 

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Doug:
Oh, abso-fucking-lutely! If you can't trust the son and heir of a shyness that is criminally vulgar to rock your fucking vote, who can you trust? Besides, the dude's got the sun shining out of his behind [Laughs].

 

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Bill:
[mimicking a the Down East accent] Hey, the Sox drafted a Mainah, ayuh? [Laughs]

 

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Doug:
Thought the Moneyballers didn't draft high schoolers? Kid must be really something.

 

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Bill:
Rumor has it a knee-buckling curveball and a fastball consistently in the mid 90s …

 

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Doug:
Skills obviously developed by swatting black flies and mosquitos the size of fucking small birds in that vacationland. [Laughs]

 

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Bill:
Fucking Nomar tonight … make that tomorrow night … or the night after that but sometime soon definitely maybe.

 

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A short while later …

Doug:
Yo, Bill, I just got a voicemail message saying "The Brewers drafted Rogers, Masshole." [Laughs]

 

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Bill:
Yeah, yeah, so I got a little over fucking zealous … Don't those clammah's up theyah evah make a mistake?

 

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Doug:
Ayuh, and how's that 200% property tax increase working out for you pine tree yahoos? Good us Massholes buy your fucking overpriced lobstahs or there'd be no cash at all in Vacationfuckland. [Laughs]

 

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Ready, Steady, Still in Second

The Red Sox stop their losing skid by beating KC on Saturday and Sunday …

Bill:
Holy Pope on a rope, I'm glad the Red Sox won these last two … I was starting to lose it.

 

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Doug:
I still ache all over with the melody of pain … two guys need to fucking nearly die in order to get an R.B.I. out of Cesar Veni Vedi No Veci Crespo?

 

---

Bill:
Hey, Timlin cranked it. When's the last time you've seen him go three studly innings?

 

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Doug:
Game 3 of the last year's division series with Oakland probably … So what the fuck is wrong with Dale Sveum?

 

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Bill:
Last night I dreamt that I pissed on Sveum's head. [Laughs]

 

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Doug:
I know, it's "The Curse of the Retarded Third Base Coaches." Get the freckle assed Curly Haired Boyfriend on the case! [Laughs]

 

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Lay down and wait like an animal

The Red Sox had a rare Thursday off to travel to Kansas City whom they face tonight …

Mike:
How'd the night off treat you? Help you ease into the reality of Angels annunciation that they're the better club?

 

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Doug:
Fuck, yeah, I'm as content as a redneck with his Christmas lights up year round. If you need holiday lightage in July, I'm your fucking man!

 

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Mike:
Here's a suggestion for the Orioles: Just go the fuck ahead and forfeit your remaining games with the Yankees and save everyone the fucking trouble.

 

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Doug:
Fuck, yeah, then the Baltimore teabaggers can be rested and ready to morph into the '27 Yankees when they play the Sox. [Laughs]

 

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Mike:
That fuck wad Mazzilli is so ready to replace Torre when he retires, he'll have his pinstriped butt cheeks on that Yankee bench while it's still warm from Torre's fat fucking ass.

 

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Doug:
No shit, he's probably already on the Spankee payroll.

 

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Mike:
Every mofo day folks are dying. Old folks, young folks, skinny and fat, ugly and pretty … So when the fuck is that old bastard Steinbrenner gonna kick it?

 

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Doug:
Where's the axman, where's it done?

 

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Mike:
I lay down. I lay down and wait like an animal.

 

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Lilacs (Don't fuck with them.)

The Angels beat the Red Sox again, 10-7, and it's a 3 game losing streak …

Bill:
Swept by the Angels, 2 games back of the Spankees and falling, pitching rotation in shambles, bullpen faltering …

 

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Susan:
Hey, double chin up, dude. Last June the club had a 5 game death march and still made October bright, right?.

 

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Bill:
Yeah, last year … fercrissakes Francona is reminding me of last year more and more … Bringing Pedro out in the 6th? What the fuck?

 

---

Susan:
I'm not going to defend Terry Franconia Crotch, still, the dude's working with a pitching staff 60% full of pitchers who can't get out of the 6th?

 

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Bill:
Oh, you're doing a fine fucking job cheering my ass up here.

 

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Susan:
Look, Bill, you can't get freaked out over these rough patches. You need to buck up. Or at least shut up. [Laughs]

 

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Bill:
Ah, Red Sox … I've practiced death for so long and still I've not learned it …

 

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Susan:
Think of the lilacs … the dripping lilacs, blue petals battered, holding on, holding their brightness in hot steamy air as if to become brighter …

 

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Bill:
Lilacs? Are you fucking smoking the hydro again? Actually, it's a fitting metaphor, as didn't the ancient ones use lilacs to cover the stench of death?

 

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Susan:
Don't fuck with the lilacs, dude. [Laughs]

 

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