It’s the last day of February, and you know what that means. No more celebrating black history! Starting tomorrow, I can be as mean to Jacque Jones as I want to be! It’s going to be great! I know you panty-wearers are dying for a diary update, so I won’t keep you.
Hey, Jim, thanks for the cool shortstop action figure, but who is seriously going to play short this year?
It’s admirable that Bruce Miles is still flying the “Dempster is the closer not Wood” flag. Wood is ready to go, and I can’t imagine I’d leave Dempster in there for long if he sucks as bad as he did last year. I give it another week until even Miles gives up and realizes that Dempster is about as good at closing as Jason Marquis is at starting. Holy crap, both of those guys are on our roster, aren’t they? Muskrat screwed up another one of my interviews, suggesting that I’m “happy with Dempster.” What I said was, “I’m happy with Dempster bloated and floating face down in a hot tub.” Simple mistake.
Soriano had better hit 40 homers and swipe 40 bases. If that roided up freak show Canseco can do it, Soriano can. By the way, Canseco, how did that 1990 World Series work out for you? Hmm? How was it? Did you and your “
butt bash brother” have a nice time? Hmm? Heavily favored going into that Series, weren’t you? What’s that? I couldn’t hear you? “Yes, Coach Piniella, we were heavily favored”? Is that what you said? Who won that Series, anyhow? The Reds? Really? It must have gone seven games, since you were so heavily favored, right? No? Really? Only four games? Wow.
Well, that’s all for me today, kids. You may have noticed less swearing in this installment of my diary. My wife made me give up swearing for Lent. Wait. I don’t think that means I can’t write swears. Cock balls shit. Awesome. See you soon, sluts.
-Sweet Uncle Lou