July 04, 2006

A Midsummer Night's Lobotomy

Going to attempt to be brief, as I'm currently logged on a long ways away from the 212 area code, and time is short*. So let's get caught up -- first, some news that hit late last week:

Jose Canseco is returning to baseball. There are four things I love about this story:
1) Jose Canseco is returning to baseball.
2) He's not only going to hit, but he's going to be a knuckleball pitcher as well. This is funny because a) he's probably got a wretched knuckleball; b) he once completely obliterated his arm trying to throw a knuckler in a blowout game.
3) The league he'll be playing in -- The Golden Baseball League -- was started by a good friend of The Bird, who is responsible for this site's relatively new majestic look.
4) When reporters tried to reach Canseco on his phone, this was the message they heard: "Hello, Jose Canseco. I have lost my cell phone. If you can, please leave a number when you call. Thank you."

I don't know about you, but I'm glad we have a reason to call Jose on the phone again. Sure, he's done some unsavory things in his day, but few athletes, if any, are good for more shits and giggles than Josie. Some other things I'd like to discuss:
  • In NBA news, former Net/Rocket/T-Wolf and current troublemaker Eddie Griffin got caught flogging his dolphin watching porn. What's wrong with this, you ask? Well, he was also driving. Yeah, not recommended (Griffin crashed his car). You know what else isn't recommended? Telling a witness to the accident that you were masturbating, which Griffin did. Honestly, does Eddie G. think that qualifies as a legit excuse? Does he realize that it would be better to tell a witness absolutely anything else other than what he confessed? Would have been wiser from a PR standpoint to say he was trying to light up a joint and crashed when he accidentally dropped the match between his legs. Of course, there is the small problem of that being illegal, but you know what I mean. This guy just doesn't get it. And as a punishment, I'm taking away the DVD players in his car, which I will then sell on eBay.
  • As you've probably noticed, I've been killing, or at the very least vigorously bludgeoning the Hawks of late for their recent personnel moves, not the least irksome of which has been their steadfast refusal to acquire a quality point guard, but tally one for those lummoxes in the ATL front office for their signing of Speedy Claxton. He's not necessarily the most dynamic player out there, but every time I've watched him I've thought the guy was a pretty good (and at times very good) player. Also, he just doesn't seem like the kind of player the Hawks would think to target, which is, I believe, a very good sign. Or at least that's how I'm choosing to spin it.
  • Quick celebrity update: Larry King farted, and David Hasselhoff got an ouchie while he was shaving and had to have surgery. No word on whether or not he got a call from Dirk Nowitzki while he was in the hospital. By the way, the German word for "ouchie" is "verletzung."
  • Can you imagine being given a job at your older brother's place of business, rising through the ranks incredibly quickly, coming up and proving that you're far better than your brother at what you both do (and really always have been), making such a strong impression that ultimately your higher-paid brother gets the ax from the employer and you take his spot? That's pretty much what just went down between the Weaver brothers of the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim, California, USA. In goes Jered, out goes Jeff. AWK-ward.
By the way, happy 4th of July. I'm in Europe, or some place that looks vaguely like Europe and where some people don't wear underarm deodorant, which leads me to believe it's
Europe. So I hope you have a lovely barbeque without me, you bastards. The closest I'll be coming to a barbeque will be if I happen to stumble across a herd of yaks who have spontaneously been engulfed in flames. Mmm...yaks.

Okay, in case you can't tell, I've lost it (I think it's something in the water here -- which, for the record, I am not drinking). But before I go, please do say hello to your irritating relatives for me. And if you get an opportunity at any point to use the phrase "If it's gonna be that kind of party, I'm gonna stick my dick in the mashed potatoes" -- by all means, do it.

Heavens to Betsy, I am punchy. Sleep is imminent. Go Whalers. I'm out.

*Footnote: attempt to be brief failed miserably.


Blogger The Bird said...

Thanks for the shout-out, OCC. From what I recall though, Jose blew out his arm throwing fastballs (mid-80s or so, I think), not knuckleballs. Word is that Jose has always been able to throw the knuckler (he claims) but this is his first chance to do so professionally.

8:25 PM, July 03, 2006  

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