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Doug:
Seriously. At this rate, it's only a matter of time before she's writing love lettahs to Aaron Hernandez in prison.
Mike:
On linen stationary.
Doug:
Infused with rosewatah.
Bill:
Hey, who released the Lacken?
Mike:
Physically strong and agile? Check.
"He commanded a fastball that was consistently 92-94 miles per hour and touched 95."
Mike:
Secretive and capable of sudden attack? Check.
"When needed, Lackey froze hitters with a slider."
Mike:
Of course, like the Kraken the Lacken is not immortal and can be killed.
Bill:
In other words, enjoy the show, but don't get cocky like Poseidon.
Your omniscient author in absentia:
So as you may or may not know, I'm going on vacation next week, which means, of course, that I'm having to cram and otherwise finish off a bunch of work stuff. But since I'm going on vacation for 2 weeks, it's like a double cram.
I feel like Andrew Bailey protecting a one-run lead in the ninth with the meat of the opponents batting order due up.
Yeah, hopeless.
I intend to be back with strips tomorrow and Friday. And I plan to leave you vacation placeholders for the creepy community commentary.
Doug:
Bruins up by one, less than a minute and a half remain, Blackhawks pull Crawford:
Doug:
18:44 Bickell scores:
Doug:
18 seconds latah:
Al:
Hey, let's look at the bright side.
Doug:
There's a bright side?
Al:
Think about it, all thoughts of Andrew Bailey have been temporarily expunged.
Al:
Am I right or am I right?
Mike:
OK, so when regahding Bailey Farrell said "moves are coming" by "moves" he meant, of course, "no moves at all."
Bill:
Somehow in the world Farrell inhabits it still makes sense to have Bailey ahead of Tazawa on the relief pitchah list.
Mike:
To be fair, Farrell doesn't have a lot to work with.
Bill:
Well, how about stahting with this — If you're inclined to put Bailey in to protect a 1-run lead, *DO NOT DO IT!*
Mike:
This Detroit series has exposed the obvious: despite the Red Sox position in the AL East and their win loss record, unless something changes with the pitching, facing a tough line up like Detroit's in Octobah would be a disastah.
Bill:
Seriously, it'll be like Paula Dean at an NAACP convention.
Mike:
It'll be like Edward Snowden being at... er... anywhere.
Bill:
Don't mind the bee, Ed, it's not a Robobee drone or anything.
Al:
Somebody needs to go Mr. Pottah on Bailey's ass.
"What are you but a warped, frustrated young man? A miserable little excuse for a closah crawling off the mound on your hands and knees and begging for help. No saves, no ERA, no wins, nothin' but a miserable BLSV and giving up a homah in 3 straight appearances."
Mike:
Yeah, and send the evil version of Nick from Martini's out for a mound visit.
"Hey look, mister. We want relief pitches in here for men who want to finish the 9th fast, and we don't need any characters around to give the joint "atmosphere". Is that clear, or do I have to slip you my left for a convincah?"
Bill:
OK, I can deal with the Sox losing the 3rd game of a 3-game series against the Rays... it's a long season yada yada.
Bill:
And while it hurts to lose an OT game in the Gahden that ties up the series at 2-2, I *know* the Bruins shall storm back.
Bill:
That friggin blows.
Doug:
Seriously, it was a bad day for those who treasure rough around the edges, non politically correct, unapologetically macho anti-heroes in their fiction.
Bill:
At least we are getting Jack Bauer back on TV, and in the spy thrillah pages, Gabriel Allon isn't going anywhere... well, knock on wood.
Doug:
Seriously, as much as I love the American swaggah of lead charactahs like Rapp and John Wells, I have a soft spot for the more effete and refined European spy that Silva gives us with Allon.
Bill:
Absolutely, I think Daniel Silva is the best writing in that genre today.
Bill:
I'll save it for vacation.
Doug:
No doubt. Nothing cures the omnipresent malaise of the airport terminal quite like falling undah the spell of a spy fiction page turnah.
Doug:
Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, say hello to the team with the most wins in the American League, your Boston Red Sox.
Doug:
Now if we could only had a closah.
Mike:
Seriously, every time Bailey pitches an angel has his wings hacked off, Buffaloed, and eaten by gargoyles in Hell.
Al:
Do they have sports bars in Hell.
Mike:
Yeah, but they're not much different from the ones on earth.
Al:
Ah, bad TV angle, piss warm beer, tramped-stamped ho waitress, mediocre food, and I guy at the adjacent hightop conducting what he believes is the most serious phone meeting in the history of Capitalism at the top of his voice?
Mike:
I'm pretty sure Hell is that cellphone guy next to you 24/7 non stop.
Al:
Most annoying line from loud talking business cell phone guy...
"I'll be traveling on international business but if you can't get a hold of me I'll be checking my email while I'm traveling internationally."
Doug:
Just imagine, somewhere in an undisclosed location, the NSA has supercomputer codenamed Douchebag where all those guys' calls are stored.
Al:
The terrorists have so won.
Your omniscient author in absentia:
Yesterday when I got home from work, I noticed my home office had the telltale smell of overheating electronics and plastic, but despite my best imitation of a dog, I couldn't isolate where the smell originated. This morning it became obvious when my Apple CinemaScope was dead. I spent the rest of the morning confirming its death, checking my AppleCare warranty (expired), and putting on a general pout, as I don't want to purchase any computer hardware just now.
Alas, that took up my normal reading and writing for Soxaholix time, so no strip today. But Bruins won and Sox play two, so it could be worse.
Doug:
It's worse than that—it feels like we've been playing the Orioles for the past 20 games *and* we went 1 and 19.
Doug:
Well, let's Look at the bright side, Arturo, at least Baltimore doesn't have an ornithologically-named hockey team.
Bill:
The 3 OTs and the 5th longest game in NHL history the night before...
Bill:
14 innings on Monday night...
Bill:
And, oh, hey, a double-headah last Saddadee...
Bill:
I'm getting too old for this stuff.
Mike:
Did you say something? I think I dozed off there for a second.
Lisa the Temp:
No one here today, peeps.
Lisa the Temp:
Just us temps.
Lisa the Temp:
Seems all the regulars are suffering from a lack of sleep.
Lisa the Temp:
And nobody Shaw it coming.
Susan/Circle:
What the hell has happened to Lestah?
Susan/Circle:
My guess is they're seeing something wrong with his mechanics.
Mike:
Yeah, his delivery definitely looked off last night.
Susan/Circle:
Seriously, I haven't seen a delivery that awkward since Amanda Barnes threw her bong out the 36th floor window.
Doug:
Unlike previous versions, it appears the 2013 Red Sox actually have a desiah to win ballgames.
Mike:
And look at Lackey.
Doug:
Lackey? He was serving meatballs like it was a Sopranos reunion show.
Mike:
That was impressive.
Mike:
You know, Maddon's an OK managah and all but you know what he lacks?
Doug:
The ability to speak Japanese?
Doug:
When will we tiah of flogging the dead Veet?
Mike:
Is that a rhetorical question?
Steve:
So when I looked at the most recent stretch of the schedule when it first came out, I confess I shuddered.
Steve:
And yet...
vs. Yankees in NY: 2W-1L
vs. Rangers in BOS: 2W-1L
vs. Angels in BOS: 2W-1L
Mike:
First in OPS
First in runs
First in walk percentage
Steve:
Start drinking plenty of fluids...
Steve:
Because the regression to mean is going to result in a fuck of hangover.
Doug:
Absolutely. It's regal. And regal is fitting for Papi.
Bill:
I'd live in a country where Papi is King.
Doug:
Patrice Effin Bergeron!
Mike:
With a huge assist from Jagr and Marchand.
Mike:
The voyeur who would be voyant.
Doug:
The transmutation of toil to pleasure in an instant.
Mike:
The aspiration to be taken out of the self achieved.
Doug:
The Bruins: athletes, artists, *and* priests as well.
Al:
Priests of a religion we call Owen.
Doug:
You know, aftah a game like that, it's ironic that there really isn't much left to say.
Mike:
And, well, if one is taking a utilitarian approach to the 162 game season, these outliah blow outs should cause no more emotion than an ugly 1-run win in an errah prone game.
Mike:
And, likewise, the same pragmatism should be applied to be on the receiving end of an opponent's offensive drubbing or losing a hahtbreakah in the 12th.
Al:
A win is a win. A loss is a loss.
Doug:
But winning is bettah.
Mike:
"The sun shines on a stone; the stone grows warm."
Al:
You Kant make this stuff up.
Susan:
My candle burns at both ends.
Susan:
It will not last the night,
Susan:
But look you hoes and bitches —
Susan:
It gives a lovely light!*
Mike:
The bad news is that the othah time was 2011. And we know how well that worked out.
Bill:
Hey, now, 2011 was a great year for beer and chicken.
Mike:
So while it always feels good to beat the Yankees, beat them in the Bronx, and drop them into 3rd place, I confess I'm feeling fairly blasé about it.
Bill:
Yeah, it's like I can't say I evah expect to beat the Yankees, and yet, I did expect to beat the Yankees.
Bill:
And, meanwhile, it's the coming Texas series which looms lahge and has me excited.