Petey's Ruby Slippers

After a bout of stomach illness, things return to normal for the Soxaholix …

Doug:
Dude, you still driving the porcelin bus?

 

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Rider on Green Line:
Nah, much bettah. On my way in now.

 

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Doug:
What happened? Did reading about Cabrera wanting 4-5 years make you blow chunks or what?

 

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Rider on Green Line:
Sickness I'm used to. I nevah talk about it — the way I nevah talk about my own face. But sickness is nevah only sickness; it grows, it improves itself, so that at certain points it seems a whole new thing. I was at just such a point.

 

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Doug:
Dude, were you huffing on the medi mary jane or what?

 

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Rider on Green Line:
He's joking Mr. Ashcroft if you or your henchmen are listening. We all know that stuff is the work of Satan.

 

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Doug:
Pedro got an offer from the Mets: 3 years, $38 million.

 

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Rider on Green Line:
He should so fucking take it. Nothing like playing on a last place team to make one feel important, feel needed, feel special.

 

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Doug:
No shit. Plus it'd be a marketing bonanza for the Mets. Can't you just see billboards with Petey, Mr. Nelson, and that fucking don't leave your children alone with me because I might touch their wee wee's Mets baseball head mascot all holding hands and skipping like Dorothy and pals in the Wizard of Oz?

 

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Curse of the E Coli

   

       

            Lisa the Temp:                
             Hi, I'm Lisa the much maligned Temp here to convey the following message from Mr. Brachen: "Still ill. Curse of the E Coli. Better tomorrow I hope."        

   

   

 

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A most bountiful harvest

Rider on Green Line:
Over the river and through the woods, to Pavano's house Theo goes?

 

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Doug:
Heh. A repeat of last year? That'd be sweet. But either way, we have so much to be thankful for.

 

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Rider on Green Line:
Abso-effin- lutely … Happy Thanksgiving to Soxaholix everywhere!

 

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And they brought forth the he goats for the sin offering before the king.

As the turkeys roast, the stove heats …

Bill:
Am I the only one who reads Pedro's "goat's den" comment as a backhanded insult toward the Spankees?

 

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Mike:
Yeah, I caught that, too. Pedro said he "would play baseball even in a goat's den" in response to a question about playing someplace other than Boston. Interesting metaphor considering Yankee Stadium is on his short list of other places to play.

 

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Bill:
Thing is, Steinbrenner's got a golden goat that shits money. MSNBC is reporting the Spankees offered Pedro 4 years, $50 million.

 

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Mike:
Yeah, but the dwarf master wants $60 million!

 

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Bill:
Gotta love Pedro's cojones.

 

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Mike:
And you gotta love it when King George gets blinded by his own desire. If Pedro's going to go to Pinstripes, it'll be a nice consolation if he manages to make the CFYs overpay in the process.

 

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Bill:
Maybe it's just because I'm still in my World Series afterglow where everything seems to break the Red Sox way, but my gut tells me that if Pedro stays in Boston, he'll have a decent few years — But if he goes to the Yankees he'll fall all to hell.

 

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Mike:
Oh, abso-fucking-lutely. Remember how Pedro pouted and moped around for months after getting booed in Fenway? What the fuck is he going to do when 60,000 start giving him the Bronx cheah?

 

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Bill:
Fuck yeah. Pedro tries to come across as such a bad ass headhunter, but the truth is he's one of the most sensitive, thin-skinned little papayas in the Majors.

 

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Mike:
Just as it was only a matter of time before the Red Sox beat the Yankees, it's only a matter of time before the Yankees start to get burned by signing former Red Sox.

 

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Bill:
I'm so fucking enjoying this God hearts us epoch.

 

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Mike:
You know it all started last Thanksgiving when Theo went to Schilling's house for Thanksgiving and the Yankees ended up getting stuffed by the Boy Wondah's maneuvering.

 

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Bill:
That was the greatest fucking Thanksgiving since the buckle hat heads stepped on ye olde mofo Plimoth rock.

 

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Tea for two, and two for tea.

Susan/Circle:
So the self-proclaimed artiste Christo finally got approval for another wrap job.

 

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Mike:
Oh, for fuck's sake. That dude is still around? I thought he got eaten by a white tiger or some shit.

 

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Susan/Circle:
Nah, he's still at it. Got a lot of fucking shit still to wrap before his oeuvre is complete … next up, Central Park, in 23 miles of saffron-colored fabric.

 

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Mike:
Artistically, this arouses me not one whit. Not a single whit I tell you.

 

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Susan/Circle:
No kidding. If this whack-off Christo really wanted to make a bold, symbolic statement, he'd wrap the piss out of Yankee Stadium. I'd suggest a diaphanous fabric, perhaps in the color of A-Rod's lips.

 

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Mike:
Ah, yes. The evocation of a funeral shroud, fabric flapping in the Bronx breeze like so many hands of Slappy. That'd work for me.

 

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Susan/Circle:
What the hell has happened to New York City anyway? Where's the New York of CBGB's rather than MTV's TRL? Where's the New York of Munson rather than Slappy McBluelips? Where's the New York of Jackson Pollack rather than Christo?

 

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Mike:
No shit. I remember when I thought of New York I'd think of gritty Lou Reed. Now I think of Moby drinking green tea at a vegan cafe.

 

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Susan/Circle:
No wonder the Spankees have lost their edge.

 

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How does your garden grow?

Bill:
I hate to say it, but this year's hot stove is decidedly not very hot so far.

 

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Doug:
No doubt. This "As the Pedro Turns" prime time soap is so not must see TV.

 

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Bill:
Yeah, at least Desperate Housewives has hot chicks to amuse me. Beats the piss out of the rumor and innuendo going back and forth with Pedro.

 

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Doug:
Absolutely. I mean we learn there are "indications the club was getting frustrated and annoyed at the public manner in which negotiations are being conducted." Shocking. Not.

 

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Bill:
Yeah, which fucking version of Pedro has the Red Sox management been looking at the past couple of years that gave them the impression the negotiations would be any different than they are?

 

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Doug:
No shit. It's not like Pedro is a diva or anything. Not like he's known to say incredibly bizarre things to the media. Not like he has a lucky pet dwarf by his side at all times or anything.

 

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Doug:
Meanwhile, back to the real world. I sure as fuck picked the wrong career.

 

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Bill:
How so, Doug?

 

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Doug:
On Housewives who is the hot hot super hot Gabrielle all ovah? The mofo gardener. On the O.C., who's the skinny bitch with the boozing problem itching for? The gardener.

 

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Bill:
Fuck yeah. The gardener is a literary, pussy getting archetype. Didn't you evah read Lady Chatterly's Lover? The gardener dude in it is all "let me rub your cunt" and "ah, what a beautiful cunt you have m'lady" and the Chatterly ho is all ovah it.

 

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Doug:
You're fucking shitting me? Is there a TV movie version? Oh, what the fuck am I thinking? I forgot. If a fictional character so much as thinks the C-word these day, Powell and his FCC henchman would be soaking and chilling his ass down with the cleansing waters of censorship.

 

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An unwavering, wicked irony

The pursuit of free agents continues apace …

Doug:
There's a guy on SoSH who says he's willing to give his girlfriend to Pavano if he signs with Boston. The dude offers, "She never stops talking, but she's very attractive and only 45 minutes from Boston, too." That cracks my ass up.

 

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Mike:
Speaking of girlfriends, what evah happened to you and that chick Ruthie?

 

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Doug:
Ah, for fuck's sake. She goes to the Red Sox victory parade and d-lowe and fucking behold out of 3.2 million people she happens to run into some guy she hasn't seen since college but always had a thing for. And then I'm getting the "let's still be friends" talk over espresso two days later.

 

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Mike:
That's the same victory parade you refused to go to because it'd be too crowded?

 

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Doug:
I continue to be the victim of an unwavering, wicked irony.

 

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Mike:
You know what they say: Irony is a dog that bays at the moon while pissing on graves.

 

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Doug:
End of the pier. End of the Bay. Pretty girls make graves.

 

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Baseball Celebrity Makeovers

Mike:
The photoshopped image of the Spankees' GM Brian Cashman's normal male pattern baldness pate replaced with Pedro's gerry curls is what puts the Big in Big Dog.

 

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Bill:
Absolutely brilliant. What's fucking amazing to me is how it's an improvement for Cashman. He should definitely fucking consider a hair transplant and a perm.

 

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Mike:
Yeah, the nerdy porn star look is so fucking in. Put a satin Skankees dugout jacket on with the two NY strippers Mystique and Aura on each arm and Cashman is a real motherfucking P.I.M.P.

 

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Bill:
You know the Spankees need to add another stripper to their little pinstripe retinue … I'm thinking "Deep Throat" … you know, someone who'll teach them how not to choke on a big 3-oh.

 

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Mike:
BOOM-CHICKA-WOW-WOW

 

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There's a choice we're making

Tara:
Did you hear about Pedro's not so secret meeting?

 

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Bill:
Yeah, Dirt Dogs is all over it. Petey and Steinbrenner broke bread yesterday.

 

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Tara:
Yes, that, but my sources in Florida say there was a second meeting.

 

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Bill:
With whom, the Angels?

 

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Tara:
Not even. Try none other than P-Diddy. Seems Pedro is about to ink a recording contract with Bad Boy Records.

 

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Bill:
Shit, if William Shatner can do it, why not Pedro?

 

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Tara:
Abso-effin-lutely. Sources close to Puff, er, P, say Pedro initiated the face time and that it was a "good meeting."

 

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Bill:
Yo what the hook gone be? [Laughs] Or do Petey not need no effin' hook on his beat?

 

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Tara:
Rumor has it the first single off the record will be a reprise of "We Are the World" featuring Jeter, Slappy, Matsui on vocals and Bernie Williams on guitar.

 

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Bill:
[Singing the tune] We are the World. We are the Spankees. We are the chokers. We are all done. [Laughs]

 

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Tara:
[Continuing the song] As George has shown us, by turning stone to gold, so we all must reach out a greedy hand. We are the world … We are the Spankees.

 

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Hearkening to the Temptations of Wicked Pissahs

The Soxaholix never tire of picking on the pretty boy …

Susan/Circle:
Did you see Slappy Rodriguez whimpering over Schilling's comments about him?

 

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Mike:
Fuck, yeah. I love this line: "The one thing I hope is that he continues to speak poorly about me and the Yankees because that will give us great motivation to beat the Red Sox in the future."

 

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Susan/Circle:
Yeah, I read that and I was all, "Oh, A-Fraud, so you weren't already motivated to beat the Red Sox?" That says it all. What a loser.

 

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Mike:
Who the fuck knew? All those millions of dollars aren't enough to motivate A-Fraud. No, no, he also needs people speaking poorly about him.

 

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Susan/Circle:
No kidding, I guess Bore-Ass was asleep at the wheel when he negotiated A-Fraud's contract. He totally forgot the "people speaking poorly about my client" motivational clause.

 

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Mike:
Lucky for A-Flawed, there are millions of Red Sox fans who will speak poorly on his sorry ass for free.

 

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Susan/Circle:
Absolutely. Slappy brings out the Cotton Mather in me. Yea, Hearken to me, Bitch. Ye Olde Schoole Puritan wrath is descending verily to ye stuntin' ass.

 

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