... And the livin' is easy...

Your omniscient author in absentia:
As I mentioned yesterday, I've managed to create another long, summer weekend, so taking the day off today in order to make my way to a secluded, bucolic (soxabucolix?) retreat.

See you back here on Monday, and go easy on the Sriracha.

 

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It's the humidity

Doug:
OK. I've just got to say it — this fucking team bores me.

 

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Mike:
It's reached the miserable point where even when they win a game it's not so much that they had any say in the mattah but rathah a case of the opponent just not winning that particulah day.

 

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Al:
Sitting through 9 innings is a form "enhanced interrogation."

 

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Mike:
Seriously. The Dice-K syndrome has metastasized — Watching the whole thing is now like watching grass grow with paint drying on it.

 

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Doug:
No worse. Watching these guys is like watching a tree sloth watching grass grow with paint drying on it.

 

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Al:
Fuck that. Watching these guys is like watching a rerun of watching a tree sloth watching grass grow with paint drying on it.

 

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Al:
In high def.

 

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Doug:
There's not gonna be any trade before the deadline is there?

 

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Al:
No. There's not going to be any trade, there's not going to be any health care reform, there's not going to be any eco-fucking-nomic recovery.

 

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Al:
We've been deceived.

 

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Doug:
Time to grease up your no-no holes fellas. Cuz we're getting screwed.

 

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Mike:
Undah a rented sunset.

 

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Right Guard will not help you here

Doug:
So I go into the Sox game last night expecting that any minute they'll announce the Halladay deal, but, no, I go all 11 innings with nothing then toss and turn all night absorbing the meltdown loss and still imagining Halladay in red stockings …

 

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Doug:
Only to wake up this morning to discovah there nevah really was an offah in the first place.

 

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Mike:
Yeah, this has been a real Halladay in Cambodia.

 

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Mike:
It's tough kid, but it's life.

 

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Doug:
Somebody needs to tell that to Matsuzaka.

 

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Mike:
Ah, yes, Dude-san with the magically superiah Japanese shouldah. Heh.

 

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Doug:
Yeah, well, you just wait until the next WBC. Then we'll see who's laughing and who's crying.

 

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Mike:
Seriously. Nobody tells the WBC MVP how to train.

 

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Doug:
Absolutely. When Dice-K was with the Seibu Lions his pitch count went to infinity. Twice.

 

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Mike:
That's right. Rent a rising sun, bitches.

 

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Even on a steamy seat...

Bill:
Well, lookee here … Looks like LaRoche is getting some early momentum in the popular vote.

 

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Doug:
A two-run homah in his first game and two singles in his second, then doubles in his first two at-bats last night against the A’s …

 

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Bill:
Not bad at all.

 

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Bill:
But let's not kid ourselves. This club is still in need of a big bat.

 

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Doug:
Seriously. We have not seen the last of the green fumes of the beastly butt hole odah that this offense can stink up the place with.

 

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Bill:
Pungent pits? Foul feet? How do you stop the stink?

 

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Doug:
That's right. We need a mega-dose of Aspray.

 

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Bill:
Let's literally prevent odahs befoah they staht.

 

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Doug:
Hmmm A-Spray and A-Gonz…

Eerie coincidence? Oh, I think not.

 

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Bill:
But you bettah hurry, Theo, an offah this good won't last.

 

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I'll take "Words ending in 'Z'" for a thousand.

Al:
Well, the weekend got off to a great staht with taking 2 from the O's and the pageantry of Jime Rice's induction in Cooperstown.

 

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Doug:
I like the way Bob Ryan put it, "This was as happy a Jim Rice as we’ve ever encountered."

 

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Mike:
Yep. But then, unfortunately, we had to pitch Smoltz bringah of Weltschmerz.

 

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Al:
Not to kibitz, but Smoltz is definitely on the fritz.

 

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Mike:
Can we get an ersatz for Smoltz?

 

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Doug:
Ah, Christ, seems like only yestahday that we had the schmalz for Smoltz.

 

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Mike:
If only it were just Smoltz. I mean look at our rotation.

 

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Doug:
Seriously, any day now I expect to see a picture of every stahtah not named Beckett and Lestah on the friggin' Fail Blog.

 

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Al:
Beckett and Lestah and pray for a Northeastah.

 

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A public service announcement (with hot dogs)

Doug:
Jeez, Arturo, first it was the tofu dogs now you're offering gluten-free?

 

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Doug:
You're caht is morphing into Whole Foods before my eyes.

 

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Doug:
How long befoah you show up in Birkenstocks and a hemp apron?

 

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Arturo, the hot dog vendor:
Hey, gotta, keep up with the times, Mr. Roy. Celiac disease cases are on the rise.

 

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Doug:
Celiac? What is that some sort of STD or something.

 

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Arturo, the hot dog vendor:
I hate to break it to you, Mr. Roy, but the world doesn't revolve around your genitalia.

 

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Doug:
Hey, slow down, Copernicus, you're dissin my dogma ovah heah.

 

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Arturo, the hot dog vendor:
Celiac is an autoimmune disorder of the small intestine and is caused by a reaction to gliadin, a gluten protein ₀

 

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Arturo, the hot dog vendor:
And people afflicted by celiac have chronic diarrhoea, failure to thrive, and fatigue.

 

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Doug:
Failure to thrive? Fatigue? Arturo, You do realize you just described the Red Sox offense, right?

 

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Arturo, the hot dog vendor:
Somebody call, Shaughnessy. It's the Curse of the Gliadino!

 

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Blockbuster Deals

Doug:
You know I loves me some irony as much as the next guy...

 

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Doug:
But seriously the same day we drop our 5th straight game, acquire Lyndon LaRouche, trade albeit worthless Lugo for worthless Sandy "Oh, hai! I hit with one eye" Duncan is the same day an "injured" Manny Ramirez comes in to pinch hit and lines the first ball he sees into the leftfield stands for a grand slam? Really?

 

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Mike:
Hey, you know, it's a marathon not a sprint.

 

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Doug:
Yeah, tell that to Lance Armstrong.

 

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Welcome to the Wild Card race

Doug:
Jeez, you know you're in a slump when even with Josh Beckett on the mound you manage to lose.

 

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Bill:
And now Wakefield's on the DL. What a pissah.

 

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Doug:
At least Buchholz is happy.

 

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Bill:
Guess we'll see if the kid's head is really screwed back on straight now for reals. The "stoppah" role is now his for the taking.

 

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Doug:
Yeah, otherwise, as Pinto puts it, we "may actually be stuck with both Penny and Smoltz until Matsuzaka comes back."

 

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Bill:
Pinto's being sarcastic about Matsuzaka, right? I mean is anyone looking forward to his return?

 

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Doug:
Seriously. It's like thinking, "Yeah, I may be stuck with a migraine and erectile dysfunction until the IRS audits my taxes, but then I'm sure everything's going to be all fine and shit."

 

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Working on his knight moves

Al:
Ah, hello Red Sox, loosing 3 straight and being tied with the Yankees is not where I want to be 4 games aftah the break.

 

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Mike:
Last night the bats were awful and the pitching even worse.

 

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Doug:
Is it time acknowledge that the Smoltz experiment is a failure?

 

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Mike:
Seriously, Theo's plan to resurrect Smoltz is looking evah more like NBC's plan to resurrect Knight Ridah.

 

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Al:
But at least Knight Ridah had Deanna Russo.

 

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Mike:
Yeah, not all of Theo's ideas are going to work out. For every Schilling, Beckett, and Lowell, there's going to be a couple of "New Cokes" like the closer by committee and Bartolo Colon.

 

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Al:
And Julio Lugo.

 

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Doug:
And Renteria.

 

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Mike:
Renteria isn't Theo's New Coke or Crytal Pepsi, no, that's his Sarah Palin.

 

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Doug:
Ouch.

 

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Mr. Jaws

Marty:
[Making the Jaws sound] Da-Dum...Da-Dum...Da-Dum-Da-Dum-Da-Dum...

 

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Bill:
Jesus, Mahty I don't know how it's possible but you've managed to become a caricature of a caricature of yourself.

 

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Marty:
There's Red Sux blood in the water, Billy Boy, and the Pinstriped shark is circling ... Da-Dum...Da-Dum...Da-Dum...Da-Dum...

 

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Bill:
You know, Mahts, it's fitting that you'd go with a Jaws movie theme here — I mean the 70s look/feel, the creaky, mechanical dated special effects — that all does scream "Yankees."

 

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Bill:
Except now instead of a 70's summah blockbustah, your shahks are more of the made for obscure cable channel shlock variety and not especially scary.

 

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Marty:
Ok, Callaghan, here's one for ya — "KNOCK KNOCK."

 

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Bill:
Oh, you've got to be kidding me, now you're dredging up 70s SNL skits?

 

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Marty:
No, this is different... "KNOCK KNOCK."

 

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Bill:
Alright I'll amuse you, "Who's there?"

 

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Marty:
"Red Sox leadoff hitter.

 

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Bill:
[Sigh] Red Sox leadoff hittah who?

 

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Marty:
Exactly!

 

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Marty:
Bwahahaha.

 

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