Freely available talent

Doug:
Memo to Steve Johnson: Dude, you play for the friggin Bills. Yahweh doesn't know you from, er, Adam.

 

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Bill:
Yeah, can't you see just God up in heaven:

"Gathah 'round, Angels, it's time to watch the Buffalo Motherfucking 2 and 9 Bills. Behold!"

 

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Doug:
Our culture is so fucked up. Even our vision of the Omnipotent Creator is pedestrian and lame.

 

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Bill:
It's replacement level.

 

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Doug:
Absolutely. A replacement level civilization with a VORP of zero.

 

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Doug:
Think about it. Our leaders are replacement level. Our holidays are replacement level. Our food is replacement level. Our entertainment is replacement level...

 

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Bill:
Seriously. James Franco and Anne Hathaway as Oscar co-hosts? Talk about replacement level.

 

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Doug:
And it's not just external. Look at our own lives...

 

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Doug:
On any given day, a replacement level me could come in and perform my average day to day routines in an average way.

 

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Bill:
It's worse than that, Doug, the replacement level me has a VORP of +3 inches.

 

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For the ramparts we watched / uh, da-da-da-da-da-daaaa

Doug:
So I can read that our goverment knew about Iran smuggling arms to Hezbollah on ambulances, that Hillary Clinton ordered diplomats to spy on other countries, so on and on and so forth...

 

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Doug:
But I can't get any friggin news about the rumored blockbustah trade?

 

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Doug:
Wikileaks? Sounds more like Wikiweak to me.

 

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Mike:
So fah, this hot stove season is in the intensive care ward at Our Lady of the Worthless Miracle.

 

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Al:
It's fourth and fifteen and you're looking at a full-court press.

 

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Doug:
These rumors have left me shaken and disturbed, and all the questions keep coming up ovah and ovah again, like bubbles in a case of club soda.

 

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Mike:
That's how it is. You take a chance getting up in the morning, crossing the street or sticking your face in a fan.

 

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Al:
I don't feel so good.

 

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Doug:
What did the cafeteria serve for lunch?

 

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Mike:
Well, we had a choice of steak or fish.

 

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Doug:
Yes, yes, I remember, I had lasagna.

 

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Mike:
And with that let's have a moment of silence for the passing of one of the funniest men evah -- Mr. Leslie Nielsen.

 

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Mike:
 ----- 

 

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Have a Happy Thanksgiving (See you back here on 11/29)

Doug:
You know, I loves me some Thanksgiving and all, but they all seem to be a bit "meh" evah since 2003.

 

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Mike:
Best Thanksgiving evah!

 

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Al:
♪ ♫ ♪
Ovah the rivah and thru the wood,
To Curt Schilling's house we go;
Theo knows the way,
To carry the day,
Pass the check, Larry Lucchino!

 

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Doug:
You think Cashman and the Yankees will be taking a page from the Theo playbook and heading to Arkansas to court Cliff Lee?

 

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Mike:
Sure, I can just hear the Cashman schmooze now,

"Granny Lee, that sure was a moist possum! Mmmm-mmm!"

 

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Pass the gravy

Doug:
Wow, Arturo, a five minute line for a hotdog? Business is booming!

 

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Arturo, the hot dog vendor:
Ah, you know, it's Thanksgiving week. People use the holiday as an excuse to eat whatevah the frig they want and then go back for seconds.

 

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Doug:
Doing anything special for Thanksgiving, Arturo?

 

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Arturo, the hot dog vendor:
The usual. You?

 

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Doug:
I'm thinking about getting all authentic and what not.

 

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Arturo, the hot dog vendor:
What are you gonna do? Pull a Sarah Palin and hunt your own wild turkey with a musket?

 

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Doug:
Too contrived. I was thinking instead to get really old school.

 

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Arturo, the hot dog vendor:
Oh, yeah, how's that?

 

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Doug:
Yeah, was thinking I'd go get syphillis from an indigen.

 

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Arturo, the hot dog vendor:
You really out to have your own show on the History Channel.

 

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Doug:
Funny you should say that, Aruturo, as I was thinking the same thing last night after a few pulls on my peace pipe...

 

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Doug:
I even came up with a working title: "Doug's European Canon — Size Mattahs."

 

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Arturo, the hot dog vendor:
Yeah, and the print ad teasers could have the tag line, "Is that the Western Canon in your pocket or are you just glad to colonize me?"

 

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Doug:
Beautful. And people think I come here just for the kraut.

 

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Fixin' to...

Your omniscient author in absentia:
[Update: 11.19.10]
I'm at home trying to convince a rambunctious puppy not to jump, run, lick, or otherwise have any sort of fun at all. The seriously creepy work of writing a strip will not happen today.

[Previous]
No strip today. I need to take the lil' Staffy pup to the vet for some routine surgery. (He's just about 7 months now, so it's "that" time, poor fellah.)

 

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Big Teeth

Mike:
You know, Olivah Stone aside, I do love it when Hollywood gets all alty historicity on us...

 

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Mike:
I mean, c'mon, we've suspected for years that Lil' Red Riding Hood was total slut.

 

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Susan/Circle:
Are you kidding me? Lil' wood walking waif was so totally asking for it.

 

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Mike:
And the wolf? Dressing up as the grandma and all? I mean there's Game and then there's A Plus Game.

 

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Susan/Circle:
Bring the movies.

 

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Mike:
Meanwhile, looks like Salty could be the stahting catch.

 

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Susan/Circle:
Yum.

 

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Gantt Chaht Heah

Doug:
Hey, we've got two, er, what's the friggin plural of Buchholz?

 

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Bill:
Holy shit, I haven't been this excited since we had the two Tatums, Ken and Jarvis.

 

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Doug:
And, hey, what's a little Tommy John surgery among friends?

 

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Bill:
Absolutely. Unlike the TSA, the Boston Red Sox organization does not discriminate against the medically infirm.

 

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Doug:
So we can tick the box indicating completed next to "reclamation project" on Theo's plan for the 2011 Red Sox.

 

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Doug:
Now it's on to "sign free agent short stop phenom" where, of course, phenom means overprice and underwhelm.

 

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Bill:
Wait are you sure that comes before the "lose to Yankees in bidding war for best FA on mahket followed by earnest speech about how we can't outspend the Yankees so we'll have to outsmaht them" part of plan?

 

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Days like this

h.b.:
[Update 11/15: Still got nothing.]

Your creepy author has
nothing today,
no cats,
no box,
no fetish,
Novemeber...

 

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Happy Veteran's Day

Doug:
OMG I'm shocked to see that Google has actually recognized a patriotic and daresay a nationalistic holiday?

 

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Mike:
Hey, c'mon now. Just because the Google gang is busy being the fascists of the interwebs doesn't mean that they can't take a moment to acknowledge a war or two against fascists.

 

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Al:
Speaking of, it's been awhile, fah too long if you ask me, since anyone has mentioned a foot fetish or, say, the removable vagina on a RealDoll.

 

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Mike:
Here's the thing — If the vagina on an RD2 is removed, and nobody is there to miss it, is the vagina really gone?

 

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Doug:
No the biggah question is who the frig keeps removing the vagina anyway?

 

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Al:
I'm pretty sure the portable pussy is over at Schrödinger's place, in a box.

 

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Mike:
OK. Quantum suicide match: Schrödinger's cat in a box versus Dice K's gyroball in a box. Who wins?

 

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Signs of the times

Doug:
Note to the hyperventilating media: It's a contrail for fuck's sake.

 

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Mike:
What is wrong with our culture anyway? I mean if it's not 9/11 was an inside job, it's Birthers and flouride is a black helicoptah means to turn us all into automatons.

 

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Mike:
What the actual fuck? Occam's razor people.

 

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Al:
I dunno, guy, I think we should get Shaughnessy on the friggin case. Maybe it's a missile, maybe it's a contrail or maybe, maybe... It's a Sign of the Bambino!

 

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Doug:
Oh, it's a sign alright...

 

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Doug:
No playoffs, waning fan interest, a brand new soccer team, a perilous free agent season...

It's the Four Horsemen of the Lucchinocalypse!!!!!

 

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Miller did have a nice voice

Doug:
Well, the Cali maryjane prop 19 lost...

 

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Doug:
And my favorite witch, too...

 

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Doug:
But, alas, there is good news at hand —

Jon Miller and Joe Morgan are done at ESPN.

 

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Bill:
OK, but now what am I going to do without the erudition?

 

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Doug:
Seriously. Will we know for instance that "if a ball is hit into the air, it may end in fly out"?

 

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Bill:
Or what about learning that "if a guy is a fast runner, he's likely to steal more bases"?

 

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Doug:
It's lucky I wrote some of them down for further reference such as "only a team that scores the most runs can win in the postseason."

 

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Bill:
Can you text msg that one to me? I may need it for reference.

 

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Coming around...

Your omniscient author in absentia:
I'm trying to get back in the swing of things but this morning I was thwarted by 1) Time change and iPhone alarm not going off 2) Haven't seen or heard any Red Sox news in over a week 3) General offseason malaise.

So bear with me...

And thanks again for all of your sympathy for my dad's passing.

 

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The last out...

Hart Brachen:
My dad passed away on Friday after a long battle with cancer.

It had been botton of the 9th for my dad for quite some time but he kept finding a way to rally and keep the inning going.

But as we Red Sox fans know all so well, in the end, you just can't win 'em all.

Like the majority of you, my memories and feelings of the Red Sox and baseball and sport in general are inseparable from memories of my father.

And it is in my nature to want to fill this space with an emotional tribute recounting the best of those memories.

But my dad was a very taciturn, keep your emotions in check, old school kind of guy.

So in his honor and memory, I'll simply tip my cap and let a solemn stillness fill the void.

I'll catch up with all you a bit later, probably next week.

 

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