Friday, June 13, 2008

The Reversal

Hey Billy, good work on that whole 'call out your teammates while they're in a slump' a few weeks back, looks like Karma has been kind to you.

Oh wait it hasn't?

Well that sucks.

Who else is elated to see this smug, uppity cockface blow save, after save, after save? I can't get enough of it. Nothing makes me happier than seeing someone like Wagner collapse and then having his own medicine rammed into his barbecue sauce covered mouth. Bet you wish you could crawl into your hick car and get away from the media now, huh dummy? Maybe you should have thought this through before you called out your teammates?

Wagner's Stats Before Media Tirade on May 14:

15.2 IP, 8 SV, 1 BSV, 0.00 ERA, Opponent BA: .125

Wagner's Stats After Media Tirade on May 14:

11.1 IP, 5 SV, 3 BSV, 5.56 ERA, Opponent BA: .298

I hope a crazy Mets fan attacks you with a weed-whacker in the players parking lot one night and you tear your favorite pair of Wranglers running to your Ford F-150, hillbilly.

Karma truly is, a fucking bitch.

Update: I Hate New York

- Why do people carry sun umbrellas? Has anyone who lives in Manhattan besides me noticed this lately ? What is this, fucking 18th Century Paris? You're pale, ugly, and not of aristocratic roots, so put the umbrella down and go to work, stupid.

- Have you ever gone to the Regal Theater on West 42nd Street? Don't even ask me how the fuck I got talked into going there, but I did, and let me tell you, I'd rather eat a salad prepared by a bum than ever go there again. Not only was I forced to watch the new Indiana Jones debacle - which by the way, contrary to critics 'rave' reviews, was like watching your dad lose a fight in your teen years after you build him up as a hero through childhood. Also, while I'm on the topic, Shia LeBeuf should be blacklised from Hollywood for accepting a part where he is instructed to act like a tough guy. Hey Shia, you're 124 lbs, shut the fuck up before I give you a swirly, nerd. Anyway, avoid the theater.

- If you see a man with disheveled hair wearing one of his seven wrinkled dress shirts, cursing to himself on a stopped downtown 2 train surrounded by fat fucks eating McDonald's French-fries on their way back to Brooklyn, that's me. Say hi.

- Speaking of subway cars - Can someone please explain to me why, after a long day of aggravating work, heat, and general retardation, I have to step into one of these overcrowded coffins and stare at advertisements for fucking feet and clef pallets? Why? tell me why, please! It makes me want to fucking barf. Look, I understand we need to help third-world countries and clef pallet babies and all that jazz, but do you REALLY think advertising in a subway filled with pissed off commuters is the route to go? Why not take out some ad space in the Hampton's Douchebag Journal or whatever it's called, maybe one of those rich cocksuckers can donate a few of the bills he or she is using to light their cigar with. And as for the feet stuff, I get so fucking disgusted that I literally dry heave. Why not plaster pictures of canker sores, shit-in-toilet, and ass-pimples? I want to go to these doctor's offices and smash them in the head with a fucking Fungo bat, then take my bare feet and punt them right in the mouth.


Joan of said...

I may get fired for laughing too hard. Also fuck Billy Gagpipes

AK-47 said...

While I disapprove of taking joy in this situation, I can't disagree with the assessment.

Doc Holliday said...

Look, I'm not taking joy in the implosion of the Mets, I'm taking joy in Billy Wagner sucking cock, that's all.

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