Contributor: Migs and Wally (alternating paragraphs)
M: I am drunk, my friends. Watching television. Particularly, a commercial starring Luke Wilson, who has become surprisingly fat since I last saw him (in "3:10 to Yuma," nonetheless). I haven't really moved since the Vikings game concluded this afternoon. Five hours ago. Complete and utter domination by the "Purple Reign." The 2009 Vikings' offense has more wrinkles than Pat Summerall's balls.
W: The '09 Vikings is the first team since the '98 Vikes that I can honestly say has the ability to immobilize me for long stretches of time. Unless you count teams that send you into fervent rages, only to leave you comatose shortly afterward. Then throw the '99-'08 Vikes, the '07 Red Sox, any team Milton Bradley is on and every single White Sox team after the year 2000, even the title winning bunch (fuck you Jurassic Carl).
M: Creationism is hilarious. Unless it's coming from the mouth of Carl Everett, at which time it becomes frightening, stupefying and infuriating at the same time. It's a profoundly strange and unsettling feeling. Like watching Carl run the bases while brainstorming the multitude of better ways his salary could have been put to use. How many people could've paid their rent for the price it took Carl to be a hoodlum asshole?
W: But we digress. Javier Vasquez, yet again (but for entirely novel reasons) has driven me to drink. And the worst part about Javy's Cy Young vote (2nd place on one ballot): it was fucking deserved. That's right, Javy posted a FIP of 2.77, besting that of Chris Carpenter by .01 in a considerably tougher division for pitchers. The same Javy Vasquez who could not win a game last September against the offensively hapless Minnesota Fairweathers. KLaw, you have outdone yourself yet again. On the other hand, Wally sir, time to admit that you were wrong about Vasquez. I'm sending you my tab.
M: I hate Jon Heyman. For reasons that should be obvious to anyone who has (1) read the previous paragraph, and (2) read anything on Jon Heyman's Twitter account, which is literally inundated with stupidity. Twitter blows.
W: Stupidity has reached epidemic proportions in America. I propose succession of a colony of enlightened individuals; may I also suggest we use Maine as a geographic locale. Why? Lobster, of course. Lobster kicks serious ass.
M: Last weekend I met Ron Coomer (who will not be invited on the succession). This week, Mason Jennings (which was infinitely cooler than meeting Ron Coomer). I've become a magnet for minor celebrity!
W: Moving on, Fangraphs has convinced me Mike Cameron is a better free agent than Jason Bay. Wha-what? That's right kiddies! This ain't fantasy baseball. Fantasy sports blow.
W: Cameron once hit four home runs against the White Sox (three off Jim Parque, noted steroid abuser). Actually, I'm not certain "abuser" is the correct term. If Killer Cam knocks three out of the park against you, Comiskey be damned, you should seriously consider taking more steroids. Like, say, Winstrol-Stanozolol. That stuff seems like it kicks ass. If you don't mind looking freaky as shit in about five years (lookin' at you Sammy, you moisturizing motherfucker). I think I'm losing my goddamn mind. Case in point:
M: Bruce Villanch makes me want to curb stomp kittens.
W: Fat hipster. There's an oxymoron. Hey, let's talk censorship. Words that should be banned:
MOIST (Unless followed by the words chocolate cake and/or vagina)
CHUNKS (Again, allowable if preceded by chocolate)
PUSS (Chocolate puss? Puss chocolate? Uh, no.)
AFTERBIRTH (Ditto chocolate afterbirth. Yuck.)
ECOFEMINISM (Mmm...chocolate ecofeminism)
M: Words that should be promoted:
BLEBBING
wOBA
SKOL
PROCLIVITY
JAMBALAYA
Ugh. I can't believe Perkins is so far away. I'm going to go lie down on the freeway.
