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After a craptastic loss to Baltimore, the Red Sox had an off day while the Soxaholix had some technical difficulties …
Doug:
What the hell happened yesterday? I fight my way through the madding crowd to get to work only to find some burly, steel jawed man in black telling me I can't enter the office?
Bill:
Beats the fuck out of me. All I can get out of ol' man Scrivener is it had something to do with the accounting department and windows.
Doug:
Fucking bean counters, though I enjoyed getting the free fuck off all day.
The Sox trailing Baltimore 4-2 in the 3rd get a fortunate rain out last night to keep their win streak alive …
Mike:
So we get the Schill on the hill tonight. Curt on the motherfucking dirt …
Doug:
Hell, yeah, Montague is who we fucking turn to.
Mike:
Montague? What the fuck you talking about Juliet?
Mike:
No, shit? I like that. "Montague merci beaucoup!"
Doug:
Montague makes hitters shit in their shoes.
Mike:
Fuck yeah! Montague will sweep through like a crazy Sioux, tried and true. Screw with the Gue? Fuck you! Here's a serving of splitter cordon bleu.
Doug:
Slow day isn't it? [Laughs]
Doug:
That and the hope of getting frisked walking the streets. I'm not wearing any underwear.
Mike:
Shit, and some people say the only thing we have to fear is George Bush. [Laughs]
Tara:
Poor stupid dumb ass Karim Garcia. How's that 0 for 2 against Pedro "float your boat" now?
Tara:
Not so fast. He's had some flashes of the old Dozey before remember … let's go on a few more dates before we mention the L word. [Laughs]
The Red Sox take 2 of 3 from the Yankees and post A-Brawl everyone wonders if the team is finally ready to play up to expectations …
Bill:
What a way to end a vacation, eh? A brawl and a walkoff on Saturday, then a Sunday night nail biter …
Doug:
No shit. I thought for sure all the celebrities in house last night would bring the jinx. Meanwhile, I know you trend toward the Anybody But Bush camp, but I tell you what, at least when W tosses out the ceremonial first pitch he fires a strike from the rubber and not some pansy ass can't reach the plate from the grass in front of the mound bullshit like the Pallbearer did last night. What the fuck is up with that? [Laughs]
Doug:
Yo, I'm just sayin' … Why do I get the feeling Kerry's girly throw is an ominous metaphor for what his administration would be like. [Imitating Kerry's voice] "I voted to throw a strike before I voted to lob a lollipop off the grass." [Laughs]
Bill:
Yeah, yeah, whatev. All I know is that with the motherfucking convention in town, I got frisked 5 times getting to the office this morning.
As the days run away like wild horses …
Lisa the Temp:
Hello, I'm Lisa the Temp here to tell you The Soxaholix are on vacation.
Lisa the Temp:
They say they'll return in all their craptastic glory on Monday, July 26th.
Lisa the Temp:
Meanwhile, I'm stuck here with this piece of shit computer. I know retro is in and all, but what the fuck?
Lisa the Temp:
I was told I'm supposed to end by saying something about the Red Sox, but screw that. I don't even like baseball. Stupid boring ass game, all that spitting and crotch grabbing like a bunch of overpaid monkeys. [Laughs]
It's an ugly start to the second half, ugly …
Bill:
So let me get this straight. With every pitcher rested, you start the first fucking game after the All Star with your worst guy?
Bill:
95 pitches in four innings and only 58 for strikes?! And last night's game wasn't a one off, no random fucking anomaly.
Mike:
Abso-fucking-lutely, last night was just Lowe being Lowe … nights with glass edges and the impossible stink of river moss — worse than shit.
Mike:
Checkerboard days of moves and countermoves, fagged interest, with as much sense in defeat as in victory; slow days like mules humping it slagged and sullen and sun-glazed …
Mike:
Waking up to an 8-1 defeat on the other side of the continent, three geraniums outside a window, trying to be red and trying to be pink and trying to be geraniums, no wonder sometimes the women cry …
Bill:
And the men, too. Mules up a long hopeless Red Sox hill. Is it football season yet?
Continue reading "Slagged and sullen and sun-glazed" »
Finally, baseball resumes tonight with the Red Sox meeting up with the Angels in Cali, meanwhile …
Mike:
So Mullet Man's agent alludes that Boston may be low on the skinny red neck's list because he wants to play for a so-called contender. What the fuck is up with that?
Doug:
Randy Johnson is a fucking pussy, that's all. He's 41 and he's tired. Wants the easy life at the Steinbrenner Home for the Aged.
Mike:
No, shit. Fuck the Big Wrinkled Unit. I think of him and I think of old men in four dollar rooms looking for socks in dresser drawers while standing in brown underwear all the time the clock ticking on warm as a cobra.
Doug:
Yeah, waiting on the anvil while smoking, pissing, reading Genet or the funny papers … [Laughs] Meanwhile, it's on to the Left Coast to start the second half.
Mike:
Isn't Anaheim where that hotter than hot Gwen Stefani and her band of never doubtful backups hail from?
Doug:
Yeah, yeah, but I lost my celebrity fan stalker wanking worship for that bitch … I'm just not a mole man if you know what I'm sayin' … Skinny O.C. girl's got some sort of malignancy or something.
Mike:
What the fuck are you talking about? The chick is flawless.
Doug:
Ah, the all seeing eye of HDTV. Wait 'til you turn on to that shit, dude. I lost Cameron acne scarred Diaz to the pore gazing hitech idiot box. [Laughs]
Doug:
Bukowski? Nevah fucking heard of him. Who'd he play for?
Mike:
[To himself] The way to end a strip like this is to become suddenly quiet …
Continue reading "The clock ticking on warm as a cobra" »
The American beat up on the Nationals in the 2004 All Star Game …
Susan:
Yeah, Rocket Rog, how's that want to be 10 minutes from the ballpark, near my wife and kids, play for my hometown fans load of bullshit working out for you?
Bill:
For fuck's sake, the Shankette, of all people, should see a curse at work here … Ken Lay of Enron got that ballpark built on a hill of lies, fucking his employees over and pissing away their 401K's … Disingenuous, greedy, prick …
Susan:
Sort of like Clemens saying all those years that it isn't about the money, all that rubbing the ass of the Babe statue before games, all that fraudulent farewell tour last season?
Bill:
Abso-fucking-lutely. You can call it Minute Maid Field or Marry Poppins Park but it ain't gonna change a frickin' thing. It's a mofo black hole of bad karma. The Houston club will be 20 and a half out by Labor Day. Mark my words.
Susan:
If so, what if Clemens asks out to return to the Bronx?
Bill:
Whatev. Instant karma's already caught up to him. He's done. If Clemens suits up in pinstripes this year, it'll be the Yankees undoing. I shit you not. I'm so confident I actually want it to happen. [Laughs]
Susan:
Thrice the brinded cat hath mewed. … Fire burn and cauldron bubble.
The Devil will find work for idle hands to do …
Mike:
Know what I hate most about the All Star Break?
Doug:
The urge to belong?
Mike:
No the … wait a second … the urge to belong … You hate the All Star break because of an "urge to belong?" What the fuck is up with that?
Doug:
Yeah, I'm so jealous when the All Star players are all lovey dovey and nonchalant with each other … the way they butt slap in that knowing way. I always look away as if I didn't care, as if their easy affection with one another was the last thing on my mind. But why do I yearn so persistently to be included?
Mike:
Er … probably has something to do with your controlling, dominant mother and a lack of breast feeding as an infant. [Laughs]
Doug:
Hey, I'm secure in my mofo manhood. [Laughs] So what's your All Star beef, besides the boredom it brings?
Mike:
It's when I hear fucks like Jon Miller on NPR pontificating and playing bullshit bingo about the essence of the game or their who the fuck cares what you think Jon Miller? mid season recaps.
Mike:
Don't make me come over and beat your heteroclite fucking ass. I love NPR.
Doug:
As much a John Kerry loves his fave Red Sox player Manny Ortiz? [Laughs]
Mike:
A simple slip up. It's not like he said winning the World Series was going to be a cake walk or anything or showed up wearing a Red Sox uniform beneath a banner proclaiming "Mission Accomplished!" right? … [Laughs]
Continue reading "All Star Break, Day 2" »
The Sox lose 6-5 the final game with the Rangers , but going into the All Star Break their are reasons for optimism …
Bill:
Tough loss yesterday … really wanted the back to back sweep going into the All Star Break, still I'll take 5 of 6 home stand.
Bill:
Yeah, but what that forgets is it'd be just our fucking luck that this year it takes 100 wins to take the wildcard. [Laughs]
Doug:
Meanwhile, with the All Star Break we've got three days to work ourselves into a typical maniacal tizzy over motherfucking minutia. [Laughs]
Bill:
What do you think Schilling was saying to Manny in that pregame finger wag in the outfield NESN caught on tape?
Doug:
That's the bad ass burning question. Cafardo writes that "we'll never know what was being said unless we hire a lip-reader."
Bill:
Yeah, heaven fucking forbid a major newspaper actually does something innovative, some good old raking of the muck to bring us the news.
Doug:
Shit yeah. Where's the stinking tabloids when you motherfucking need 'em?
Bill:
No shit. Why the fuck is it easier to find out how Britney Spears clips her skanky bush than it is to find out what the fuck Schilling said to Manny? Where's our mofo Woodward? Where's our mofo Bernstein?
Last night's game defined the phrase "nail biter" as the Sox squandered a 7-1 lead and had to rely on 10th inning heroics, notably some bad ass base running from the humble hippie …
Doug:
Holy mother of Jesus that was a pissah … I'm spent but could go again that's how satisfying a win that was.
Susan/Circle:
You mean when Johnny Damon runs … Run, Johnny, Run. See Johnny run quick as a swift brown fox … and by fox I mean fox like a man, like fur zippersbeercans and the sweet hair of groaning … I want to make Johnny babies, be Magdalene to his Jesus …
Doug:
Please stop before I have to report you for creating a hostile fucking sexed up working environment. [Laughs] Speaking of, I'm now going to have to remove Jessica Alba from my masturbatory lineup. The bitch is humping Jetah.
Susan/Circle:
That beady eyed shit is getting the Honey? What fucking evah. Dark Angel can have him. The pinstriped prick is but another who doesn't pass my oxygen test. [Laughs]
Doug:
How come the Red Sox nevah date the hot bitches?
Susan/Circle:
Well, there's Nomar and Mia.
Doug:
Oh, for fuck's sake. No offense but kissing Mia would be like kissing your own sister … she's a role model for young women, but not a roll model for blueballed, acne pocked teenage boys popping an errant throbbah. [Laughs]
Susan/Circle:
Well, let's get the motherfucking priorities straight. First the World Series bling bling, then pimp up da ho's and bitches.
Continue reading "Fantasize a little " »
The Sox do it a second night in the row, hammering the Athletic's for an 11-3 victory, but, wait, there's more …
Bill:
For fuck's sake I don't know where to start …
Mike:
Have I read it? Have I read it? For chrissakes, I've married that rumor. I've consummated that rumor, taken it deep inside me … I now wait on life like a pregnancy.
Mike:
Hey, what happened with A-Rod wasn't a miscarriage, it was a forced abortion at the hands of Gene Baby Killer Orza. You better fucking believe it.
Bill:
I'll start planning the baby shower then. And fuck that Tea Party theme shit the pregos are so fond of. This swanky shower shall be themed the Mullet. [Laughs]
The Red Sox start an important home stand with an impressive win over the A's, 11-0 …
Mike:
11 runs on 17 hits! Does this team like home cooking or what?
Doug:
Er … except when the next night's chow comes along and they'ah all doubled over motherfucking puking like the Exorcist bitch all over Yawkey Way [Laughs]
Mike:
Always the cocksucking cynic, eh?
Doug:
Hey, I'm as happy go fucky as the next dink, but I need a good ol' 8 of their last 10 or 12 of their last 15 win streak before I get another hard on for this club.
Doug:
Another 81 to go? Fuck. My nerves are hampered by history … dizzied by the days the beatings the years …
The holiday weekend was tough on Sox fans, as they club continued to find itself, taking only 1 of 3 from a mediocre Atlanta team …
Bill:
Well, I suppose the days were made to be wasted … the years and the loves were made to be wasted … [phone rings]
Doug:
Dude, cheer the fuck up. We can't cry, and it helps to laugh — it's like letting out dreams, ideals, poisons …
Bill:
Fuck, you're right. Christ should have laughed on the cross, it would have petrified his killers … [Laughs]
Doug:
Now you're talking. These next ten games, all against those who'd usurp the wild card crown, will be a good litmus …
Bill:
Big fucking whoop. Did you hear that 60% of American teens have never fucking heard of Canada? [Laughs]
Continue reading "No Tears (For Now)" »
Bill:
Of course, Shaughnessy says that just to twist fate's fucking knife in our backs.
Mike:
Yeah, it's like having a guy you've never been too chummy with coming up to you and saying, "Man, I saw your girlfriend yesterday and she is just so hot. You're a lucky guy." And you're all innocent and shit asking, "Thanks, dude, where'd you run into my sweetie?" And the fucker's all nonchalant and shit, "She was standing outside the Sleepy Hollow Motel with your best friend, Jimmy. Cool how close you three are." … Cocksucker.
Mike:
Yeah, I love Nomar but ever since the A-Rod thing in December, everything's been fucked up for player and fan alike.
Bill:
Abso-fucking-lutely. It's like one partner in a relationship getting caught in bed with someone else and you try to forgive and make it work for a couple of months but you both know it's a facade … it's ovah.
Mike:
I know the Braves are the adopted team of the South and all, but I tell ya, it's the Red Sox who have all the material for a killer country music song.
Bill:
Fuck song! It's a fucking country music double-album. [Laughs]
Mike:
[sings a wicked twang] Dear Red Sox, I've Got Tears in My Ears From Lying on My Back in My Bed Cryin' Over You …
Bill:
[Laughs] When You Leave, Walk Out Backwards So I'll Think You're Walking In …
Tara:
The Stormin' Mormon whose winnings now total $662,760? You bet your sweet ass I have. Have to taste victory somehow.
Susan:
Nevah evah seen a dude run the board like this Ken Jennings does.
Tara:
In every mofo category. Amazing.
Susan:
I always thought it'd be cool if they had a Red Sox category. [Taking on smarmy Jeopardy contestant voice] "I'll take 'Sox Talk' for $600, Alex."
Tara:
[Making Jeopardy sounds] Ding, Ding that's the Daily effin' Double, Circle. How much do you wish to wager.
Susan:
Let it ride, Alex, the whole fucking pot Trebech.
Tara:
For $1200 then and the lead: The reason most Red Sox fans cite for wanting to step on the third rail of a Green Line train.
Susan:
What is bases loaded, no outs, and the lame ass hitters go three and out without bringing a single runner home?
Tara:
Sad but, true. Sad but, true. Meanwhile I can't help but wonder …
Susan:
[Interrupting] How many Red Sox fans rooting for this guy it'll take before the critical bad mojo point is reached and he goes down in flames?
Tara:
[Laughs] Well, you know how it goes …
