Monday, April 04, 2005

Yankees Suck

The first chapter of my dissertation, or at least a draft of it, is due this Friday. The chapter needs to be about 50 pages. I've done all the research and I have an outline, but I haven't actually started writing yet. That means 10 pages a day from today until Friday. It consistently takes me one hour to write one page. That's ten hours a day. It's noon on Monday. So you will understand why I am trying a different technique with my blog this week; that is, speedy scattershot blog. Don't feel slighted; everything else in my life will be getting short-shrift this week as well. And my postings might not be all that bad: don't underestimate the power of the eloquence that can result under carelessness and distraction. (After all, I am banking on that power to get me through Chapter 1.)

The Red Sox were defeated in the season opener last night against the hated, bloated, rich fat cat corporate Yankees. 9-2. I hate when that happens. Of course, we did still win the World Series, so screw them. But it was a bit anticlimactic blowing into Yankee Stadium after hours' worth of montage shots from the 2004 ALCS last time we were there spraying champagne around the clubhouse after beating those crappy, tie-wearing, beard-shaving pansy ass Yankees, only to lose.

Can you believe the Yankees bought (that's the correct term) Randy Johnson over the winter? Is anyone familiar with the Biblical parable of the man with the one sheep and the king with 100 sheep who steals the man's one sheep? The Red Sox are not the man with the one sheep; they have shitloads of sheep and the second highest payroll in baseball. But that's not the point. The Yankees are still the fat ass king with the 100 sheep who keeps rolling new superstar sheep into his pen until the sheep themselves are confused when they end up looking like a fantasy baseball roster.

Randy Johnson is a monster. He's ugly and his pock-marked face makes him look scary, and he's about 3 feet taller than any of the people who own him. He once hit a dove with a practice pitch and basically blew him up. Granted, it was an accident. He's also ancient in baseball terms (forty-one) and that just makes him tougher, like a grizzled redneck that is slowly and effectively pickling himself with Jim Beam. I see that he got rid of his trailer park mullet though, presumbly in accordance with Yankee straight-laced, tight ass, fancy pants policy. Anyway, I hate him now, since he's a Yankee, and a great pitcher, and he beat us last night. So screw him too and his scrawny evil power.


At 12:43 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Amen sister! JQ


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