Friday Night Drunk Blogging

Bobby and I are watching the Phils/Cards. Bobby is carbo loading for his triatholon tomorrow. That is right — Bobby the triathlete. This isn’t your normal triatholon though– it is 18 holes of golf at the local cow pasture, horshoes at the local park, then bowling at the local bowling alley with twenty-seven guys he went to high school with. These guys start pounding beers on the first tee at seven in the morning. I respect that type of dedication to participation sports.

A whole lot of puckering going in Philly, which breaks my heart because those fans are so warm and personable. They boo with such love.

Why can’t the terrorists shoot down Conan’s Blimp. Or why can’t the military do it and blame the terrorists?

Fresno State should petition for Division Two status at half time. 37-0 at half.

Phillies fuck up fielding a bunt. Bobby is hot that no one ran for Carpenter, saying Carpenter will be fatigued. He might have a point. After all, Bobby is a triathlete who knows a thing or two about stamina.

LaRussa just took the bat out of Pujols’ hands by bunting. Doofus. Brad Pitt should kick his ass. Meanwhile Uncle Jesse is sticking with Halladay. Halladay responds by pitching out of the jam. Uncle Jesse is a genius; LaRussa not so much.

Huge play by Furcal — didn’t see any of that in the five years he was with the Dodgers. Ruiz answers with a gem in the top of the ninth. I kind of like this sport called baseball.

Bobby is searching the guide for high school football. He scares me.

Desperation Time in Philly. Where is the spirit of Valley Forge? Fact — the winter of Valley Forge was one of the warmest on record. Most of the Americans that perished that winter did so because they slept too close to their feces.

Cards win; Howard hurts himself on the last play. Guess he won’t be playing golf tomorrow. Suddenly LaRussa doesn’t look so dumb. What an upset. I guess the best rotation in history just wasn’t good enough. Don’t celebrate too much, St. Louis; the Brewers are going to sweep your ass. I am buying my son a squirrel gun tomorrow.

But let’s return to the Philly suffering. Big money goes down. Chew on that, you Johnny Come Latelys. Uncle Jesse is on the screen now — bet you wish you didn’t beat the Braves now, do you?

Nick Punto’s fetish for ripping off his teammates’ jerseys is disturbing.

Fresno State is coming back — only down 50-7.

Nyger Morgan is one crazy nut. I can’t help but be fascinated by him because he is out there. The sane part of me knows he is an ass. I don’t follow the sane part of me too often.

Bobby and I are arguing about the AL team that will advance to the World Series. He says the Tigers; I say the Rangers. After a 30 minute blow by blow; my final argument is “Fucking Peralta will never play in a World Series.” Bobby concedes the argument. Shots!

Hey Philly Fan; do you know why your team lost? Because you painted your face like a baseball.

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