In a move that could very well turn away the remainder of the winter audience, the Soxaholix once again attempt to fuse obscure pop culture with Greek Mythology while barely mentioning the Red Sox …
Susan/Circle: You know it's times like this when baseball, the very thought of baseball seems like a mirage, some down the rabbit hole bit of fiction.
Mike: Yeah, it's gonna be awhile before we see Persephone again.
Susan/Circle: I hate waiting on that prostitot bitch.
Mike: Seriously. Who the fuck picks flowers outside the gates of the underworld anyway?
Susan/Circle: "Oh, hello, Mr Rapey, it's just me 'Sephy out here picking tulips and what no, no need to send up your pimped out black chariot or anything... Oops! I do believe I forgot to put on any panties!"
Mike: You know it's one thing if bitch wants to go get her some raw d.p. necro action in Hades, but do we all have to suffah?
Doug: Yeah, and while we're living in the land of the wishful thinking, why don't we all hop on our government wastedstimulated invested high-speed rail to our glorious, high-paying clean-energy jobs!
Al: I'm way ahead of everyone on the green jobs thing...
Al: I mean my office is pretty much an approved natural gas recovery and collection facility.
Mike: Seriously, Al, you've taken flatus to a whole new level... you're a true fahtist.
Al: Well, you know, while I certainly respect the work of those in the cacaphonic school, I've always felt that the true craftsman works in the silent form.
Your omniscient author in absentia:
It seems I'm having one of those days.*
*[Insomnia followed by finally getting to sleep only to oversleep; late start to workout then got all the way to gym locker only to realize I left my work clothes in car; craptastic treadmill workout; unrhythmic swim breath/stroke resulting in gulping pool water; traffic; no Red Sox news...]
Al:
Yeah, the whole "we athletes are paht of an elite supah species who view the opposing playahs as brothahs and would nevah stoop to the level of proletariat fans" bit can only go so fah.
Doug:
Absolutely. Give me the old-school animus of a Dick Butkus ovah the new age love fest of, say, Choice/Vick any friggin day.
Al:
And it's good for the NFL. I mean just think of how many casual fans are now going to stop everything to watch Jets v Pats?
Mike:
Not to distract from your virulence fete, but doesn't that make you wondah a little bit if the whole Cromartie thing isn't scripted purely for entertainment and hype generation?
Doug:
Ah, fuck. You've got a point.
Al:
Seriously. If the NFL with the help of Bush can create a weathah machine to send a hurricane to destroy New Orleans only to bring the undahdog Saints the Lombardi a few yeahs latah then anything is possible I suppose.
Susan/Circle:
Seriously. I think to get an F grade Theo would have needed to do something like driving the Truck Day truck while tweaked on crystal and running ovah Cahl Crawford.
Mike:
Speaking of grades, it's year end review time for us.
Susan/Circle:
Yeah, I had mine yestahday.
Mike:
How'd it go?
Susan/Circle:
Meh. I was told I need to improve on my "teamwork" and "collaboration" strategy...
Susan/Circle:
Said I have too much of a "My way or the highway" attitude.
Susan/Circle:
But that's so ridiculous. I mean I'm not that unwilling to compromise.
Susan/Circle:
For instance, I'm perfectly fine with "My way or the Appalachian Trailway."
Al:
OK now that we've opened all of our Red Sox presents, the full on malaise of January has set in.
Doug:
Yeah, I'm bored.
Al:
I'm the friggin chairman of the bored.
Mike:
Hey, could be worse – At least we're not being interrupted every couple of minutes by a Pomplamoose Hyundai commercial.
Al:
[♪ singing, mockingly]
Up on the housetop, click, click, click.
Mike:
Yeah, the low-pitched hipstah warbling and so-called "Video Song" thingy were rathah chahming the first 50 times or so, but by Christmas Eve I was having visions of punching the bearded dude in the neck.
Mike:
[♪ singing]
Punch in the neck, I won't pause,
To overplay a jingle's against natural law.
Doug:
Yeah, there's nothing like the blank pages of the New Year story to help one take stock of one's self.
Doug:
I mean I look around and think, "Hey look I'm doing the same crappy things at the same crappy job I was doing last year and the same crappy things and same crappy job as the year before that and the year before that..."
