One for you, nineteen for me

Your omniscient author in absentia:
OK, I lost track of time this morning while trying to do a few more Turbo Tax tweaks in an attempt to reduce the amount I owe to the Federales.

As a result, no strip today.

Worse, I still owe.

But could be worse. Could be a lot worse.

And on that note, I tip my cap to all the various tax preparation helper apps on the market that have made life easier and saved me a bundle over the past 10 years. (And my apologies to any readers who happen to be tax accountants.)

 

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One idiot short of a bunch

Mike:
Ah, sweet karma — Johnny Damon and his buddy Boras just priced themselves out of anothah mahket.

 

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Bill:
That's gotta sting a bit.

 

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Mike:
Seriously, when the richest team in the game says they can't afford you when you know deep down they can easily afford you but just choose not to... Ouch.

 

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Bill:
And then they don't just not sign you but go out and sign a guy who is only a year youngah than your getting long in the baseball tooth 37 years, well...

 

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Mike:
Wah-hoo, Boras. Wah-hoo Boras.

 

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Bill:
But I'm sure he'll land somewhere.

 

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Mike:
Yeah, but somewhere off-off-off-Broadway.

 

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Bill:
Bettah turn on the high beams, Michelle, it's dahk out there in flyovah country.

 

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This blog climbed Mount Washington

Al:
Jeez, first New Hampshire's Old Man of the Mountain goes all Humpty Dumpty...

 

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Al:
The the "Live Free or Die" motto is called "unfriendly" ...

 

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Al:
And now Mount Washington loses the 6 decade record for the fastest wind gust ever recorded on Earth.

 

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Al:
How much loss of character and claim to fame can one state endure?

 

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Doug:
Seriously what's next? A ban on ice fishing and skidoos?

 

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Mike:
More likely an income tax and loss of the first in the nation primary.

 

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Al:
Ouch. Talk about somebody pissin in your sugah bucket.

 

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Mike:
Speaking of predictions, you see the Globe's Touching All The Bases' 20 predictions on the 2010 Red Sox?

 

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Al:
I saw it, but I didn't have the energy to click beyond numbah 5.

 

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Mike:
I know. 1 prediction a page, 20 friggin clicks... Mmmm-kay.

 

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Al:
For reals. I mean I'm bored and shit but I'm not some rat in a maze mindlessly sniffing out the Globe's cheese.

 

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Doug:
Abso-friggin-lutely. If you want me to to sit there and click through 20 screens, then there bettah be a choppy, low-rez, d.p. porn video reward waiting at the end.

 

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Empty Weight

Mike:
Well, we are in that certain slant of light again.

 

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Susan/Circle:
Wintah aftahnoons?

 

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Mike:
Yep. And the heft of scattered Sox talk.

 

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Susan/Circle:
Fucking oppressive.

 

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Mike:
A mofo Heavenly Hurt.

 

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Don't go away mad, just...

Doug:
Ah, how fitting. Just as the tabloids are running Brangelina break up rumors, the Globe runs a "worst breakups in Red Sox history" bit.

 

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Al:
Yeah, I flipped through the list and was like, who the frig is Reggie Jefferson?

 

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Mike:
Yeah, I think the Globe could have culled that list a bit.

 

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Mike:
I mean when I guy storms off into the sunset, career in tattahs, and is nevah heard from again, does it really count as a historical worst breakup?

 

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Al:
If a Reggie Jefferson strikes out in a forest, against a lefty, and nobody is there to see it, does it make a sound?

 

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Doug:
For that mattah, does Jason Bay really count as a bad breakup?

 

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Mike:
Seriously, how can Clemens and Bay even be on the same list?

 

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Doug:
Exactly. The Clemens breakup is the equivalent of a domestic dispute you'd see on COPS...

 

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Doug:
You know the ones where the police roll up and there is a dude lying shirtless on the side of the road streaked in blood and moaning in pain...

 

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Doug:
And then the lady is standing in front of their place sobbing and sobbing, mascara black as her exposed hair roots running down her face and inside the apartment every single item is broken, even the coat hangahs.

 

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Al:
And the Cop says, "Mrs. Cordero would you like to press chahges?"

 

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Mike:
Al shoots, Al scores!

 

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Doug:
Heh, well, what I was going to say is that compahed to Clemens, the Bay "breakup" is like two divorce lawyers having a formal disagreement ovah who gets the summah cottage on the Cape.

 

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Mike:
You know who is conspicuous by absence on this list?

 

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Mike:
A fellah named Babe Ruth. Perhaps you've heard of him?

 

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Doug:
Hey, we're ovah that stuff now.

 

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Al:
Absolutely. We can forget the loss of the Bambino and the umpteen Yankees World Series wins as a direct result, but you know, I'll take hurt of the breakup with Joe Kerrigan to my dying grave.

 

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The Ken Burns Effect

Bill:
Ah, Christ, just when I staht to soften up ovah the notion of Ken Burns wanting to chronicle 2004 run and its joyful aftahmath by asking fans to send in their personal photos I read this...

 

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Bill:
You see it's not just any photo they have in mind but rathah "— that picture of a Red Sox cap on a gravestone of a loved one who didn’t live to see the day."

 

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Mike:
Cue mournful John Coltrane solo.

 

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Mike:
Fade into sepia photo of young woman in a 40's haircut in a flower dress standing outside Fenway...

 

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Mike:
Dissolve to photo of Red Sox cap on a gravestone in late Autumn with the earnest voice over, "She lived to see Jackie Robinson break the color barrier and was present at Martin Luther King's 'I have a dream speech' but Adelia Murphy never had a chance to witness her greatest dream..."

 

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Bill:
And if happens that ol Granny Murphs's dad was a scrappy Irish immigrant who worked on the Brooklyn Bridge, well, all the fuckin' bettah.

 

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Mike:
Sigh.

 

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Slow day for baseball news

Lisa the Temp:
Well, peeps, you can rest easy now — Tater Tot is back in school!

 

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Lisa the Temp:
But here's what Lisa wants to know...

 

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Lisa the Temp:
Why is it always the People of Walmart who take it upon themselves to fight these freedom of expression battles with the schools?

 

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Lisa the Temp:
Yes, yes, maybe the rules are silly and no doubt educating children and not policing a kid's personal appearance should be the primary task at hand.

 

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Lisa the Temp:
But why do I get the feeling that Tater Tot, long-haired or short-haired or no-haired or blue-haired, isn't going to grow up to be an ACLU lawyer arguing a First Amendment case in front of The Supremes?

 

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Lisa the Temp:
You know what they say, right?

 

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Lisa the Temp:
"The nut doesn't fall far from the tree."

 

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Lisa the Temp:
Or put another way...

The meth doesn't fall far from the lab.

 

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Lisa the Temp:
Oh, yes, peeps, Lisa is a cruel, judgmental, bitch.

 

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The quick brown fox...

Al:
You are, Doug.

 

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Mike:
Yep.

 

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Doug:
No, seriously, dudes.

 

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Doug:
I am so not gloating.

 

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Doug:
But just let me say that I think yesterday was a metaphorical Bill Bucknah moment for the Massachusetts Democrat Pahty Machine.

 

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Al:
Memo to Mahsha Coakley — Bill Bucknah played with the 1986 Red Sox and, well, look it up, dumbass.

 

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Mike:
Ahem, back to baseball... $9.35 million for Papelbon?

 

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Al:
I'm not feeling it dawg.

 

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Doug:
Yeah, why do I get the feeling this is the Red Sox equivalent of spending money on the "Bridge to Nowhere."?

 

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What's on second

Steve:
Some interesting tidbits from Bill James...

 

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Steve:
Sox needed some defense + James et al have gotten better at defensive metrics + there was good value in defense in this year's market = the glove heavy Red Sox 2010 roster.

 

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Mike:
I can live with that.

 

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Mike:
But one othah bit from James made me do a big Hmmmmmm...

 

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Mike:
I mean I can understand a flim-flam hack like Bud Selig making "The Steroid Era is Ovah"pronouncements but I can't understand someone with a brain like Bill James going along with the pahty line.

 

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Steve:
Seriously. The steroid era is so not over.

 

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Mike:
What we've been seeing is the just the friggin prequel.

 

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Steve:
And that's just the chemistry enhancement stuff. Then there's the whole other world of gene tweaking or what Stephen Hawking calls "a New Stage of Evolution."

 

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Mike:
Yeah, we're gonna need a biggah asterisk.

 

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Dynamic Inertia

Al:
So I'm disappointed to learn that Martha Coakley is not a membah of SoSH.

 

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Mike:
One of her handlers needs to shove a bloody sock in her mouth because every time she opens her mouth to speak she drops another couple points in the polls.

 

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Doug:
Hey, I'm the last person to defend a Taxachusetts lib like Coakley, but I'm not especially unnerved by her Schilling gaffe.

 

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Doug:
I mean it's the US Senate fercrissakes.

 

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Doug:
You think that dipshit Al Franken has ever heard of Brett Favre? Of course not, but it doesn't stop the most honorable Senator for Minnesota from casting votes along with the rest of his brain dead colleagues.

 

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Al:
OK. Enough friggin politics. Let's get back to something that actually mattahs.

 

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Doug:
Did you hear that Dice-K is in the best shape of his life?

 

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Mike:
Once pudgy pitcher
Now taut, a crouching tiger –
O Shake Weight success!

 

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One glass half-full too many

Your omniscient author in absentia:
Your humble author attended a social gathering last night that featured waiters pouring bottomless, gratis, glasses of wine, and there, dear readers, went today's strip.

 

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As we like it

Doug:
Wow. One day the Globe runs its "Five things to know about Lackey" standahd offseason puff piece...

 

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Doug:
And the next day the Globe's back again with yet anothah one.

 

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Al:
I didn't know Lackey's Red Sox contract included a "daily ball washing by the local media" clause.

 

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Mike:
The amusing thing, of course, is realizing that it'll be the same media that reams Lackey a new bungah the moment he faltahs.

 

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Doug:
Yeah, led by our favorite Curly Haired Boyfriend who, while resting his balls in a commemorative cup of irony, will hack out a piece in which he accuses the fans of lactating ovah Lackey.

 

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Mike:
And we'll relish every minute of it.

 

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Al:
Relish and Sriracha.

 

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Stoking the stove

Doug:
Wow, quite a week for staggering revelations. Now we learn Google is shocked, shocked to learn that the Chinese aren't going to win any Jefferson awards for free speech.

 

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Mike:
Bettah late than nevah.

 

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Doug:
Hey, speaking of awards, did you hear that John Lackey has nevah won any pitching awards but he's been close, dude, close!

 

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Mike:
We'll see. I'm hopeful about Lackey and the other signings, but I'm not going to rock out with my cock out until I see what they guys are bringing in April, May and June.

 

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Doug:
Wait, are you saying that Hope alone isn't enough, that, you know, there actually needs to be some substance, some positive results?

 

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Mike:
Dude, don't make me come down there and go all Coakley staffah on your waxed ass.

 

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Doug:
Heh, everyone's so touchy these days.

 

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I wish I hadn't gone to high school during the pot smoking era

Doug:
You know, I'm almost nevah surprised to learn of steroid use...

 

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Doug:
But I confess I'm always totally surprised at the absolute pussification involved in "coming clean."

 

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Doug:
I mean we get the teary-eye Giambi Juice apologizing for a transgression he's too afraid to name.

 

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Doug:
We get A-Rod's boo-hoo "I was under so much pressure."

 

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Doug:
And Clemens' "it wasn't me, it was my trainer!"

 

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Doug:
Then there's Manny's "Duh, I thought a stairway meant that thing you go up?" dumbass routine.

 

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Doug:
And now we get McGwire's "I wish I had never played during the steroid era." You know, like he's a fucking victim of circumstance.

 

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Doug:
It's not his fault. It's that damn "steroid era" that is to blame.

 

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Al:
Seriously. He may as well have said the fucking dingo took his steroids.

 

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Doug:
And to top it off he only decides to confess now because he wants a job as a hitting coach.

 

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Mike:
What a sorry ass spectacle this has all become.

 

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Not a great weekend

Doug:
I guess we just witnessed the end of the Patriots dynasty.

 

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Bill:
Seriously. By the second half I kept expecting the camera to pan to a shot of Nero with fiddle.

 

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Doug:
Wearing a tricorne.

 

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Bill:
Naked.

 

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Doug:
And if that wasn't bad enough, I give you one Daisuke Matsuzaka.

 

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Bill:
What the fuck was he thinking?

 

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Doug:
This is like running into some chick you hooked up with a few times in the past and she tells you, "Oh, yeah, back when we were together? I had the herp. But, you know, I didn't want to be the centah of concern or anything, so I nevah mentioned it."

 

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Bill:
Here's today's haiku:

My leg really hurts
But player trainer same dude
Enjoy the silence

 

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Doug:
I don't like how this decade is getting stahted.

 

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The Situation Strikes Out Looking

Doug:
With dissolution of A-Rod's l'affaire Hudson, 2010 is already looking bettah than the previous year.

 

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Mike:
Seriously.

 

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Mike:
Having to enduah anothah season in which every series with the Yankees was accompanied by a dozen or so camera shots of the dimwitted Kate Hudson sitting in a field box while wearing the look of being the greatest lifelong Yankee fan of all time would have ruined my friggin summah.

 

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Doug:
I think I found A-Rod a new girlfriend.

 

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Mike:
Who, Elaine Spottswood.

 

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Doug:
No. Nicole "Snooki" Polizzi.

 

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Doug:
I mean, c'mon, how perfect is that?

 

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Mike:
Speaking of The Jersey Shore, I bet A-Rod is kicking himself that he didn't think to call himself "The Situation."?

 

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Happy Late Year

Doug:
Well, that's it then, the Feast of the 3 Kings is in the books and the 12 Days of Christmas are officially ovah.

 

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Mike:
How did Santa treat everyone?

 

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Al:
[Sings] ♫ On the 5th day of Christmas my Jewish GM gave to me... a frickin insane smallball defense ♫ ♪

 

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Mike:
One smallball defense ♪
♪ Ellsbury moved to left
A pitcher scared of Fenway...

 

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Doug:
♫ And a guy-uy named Boof Bonserrrrrrrr.

 

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Mike:
Load up the truck, bitches, 20 mofo 10 is on!

 

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