Ninemen’s Morris: QUIGLEY!

Alabaster eastman thune Quigley! 

Your mind is comprised of two
parts dung and one part wretch!
 

How dare you, sir, intercept
mail not intended for your ham-glazed grub-grubbing barnacle-encrusted
excuses for hands, and then proceed to not only consume said parcel,
but also reveal yourself as a virtuoso practitioner of the common club-footed
idiot’s box traced word waltz!
 

To start:  The fruit your
colon passed with patriotic pleasantry is not called the ‘bananella.’ 
I haven’t the faintest idea what a ‘bananella’ is.  I have
consulted several of the most amenable meta-linguisticists and word-alchemists
in my stable of resources, and, without fail, all have concluded that
the word ‘bananella’ does not exist.  Therefore, it is either
an attempted nonsensical addition to the contemporary word canon (which
is already quite full, I can assure you), or it is just your latest
exercise in rump-rousting dipsh*ttery.  My vote is for the latter.
 

QUIGLEY!  THE FRUIT IN
QUESTION IS CALLED A ‘BANANALLA’ NOT A ‘BANANELLA’!  PLEASE
SHOW SOME RESPECT TO TAFT AND HIS GLORIOUS ACQUISITION, THE PHILIPPINES!!! 
THAT LAND WILL BE A FEATHER IN YANKEE DOODLE’S CAMP AD INFINITUM!!!
 

And please refrain from your
mail malarkey!  That flagon (as a bunching of bananallas is known)
was not intended for you, but rather for your delightful wife, Hermilina. 
Haven’t you hoodwinked her enough in this lifetime, you stagnant pond
of a man?  You’ve already relieved her of her freedom to live,
love and ride her beloved bare-backs… why must you also stand between
her and fruit?  Let the lass have some God-forsaken fruit, man!
 

But enough of all things personal!

Touche. 

Your ignorance took a break
from his paternity leave and certainly made a valid statement of fact — namely, that Cobb and his Bengalese brethren have taken a commanding
hold of league American, and they are most certainly out-performing
the goodfellow Lajoie and his Ohioans. 
For the record, we are in partial agreement: The Canuck
Lajoie is not of this country, and despite his good nature,
nevertheless should be kept at arm’s length.  The land of Canada is
vast and mysterious, and my podiatric pedestals would rather take their
tickels from a Kaiser or Pharaoh, from this Moon’s day right up until
the Sun’s next!  Many a seemingly kind and girthy red, northern face
has smiled at me claiming neighborly well-wishes, when the whole time I
was looking at the chompers of a scurvy-eyed gift horse!

That said, while the Detroiters
seem to be a lock to waggle the pennant American (hopefully they will
be able to hoist it a few times before Cobb uses it to rid his posterior
of residual defecate), they will nonetheless fall hard in the
World Series, at the hands of Chicago’s dear Orphans, the mighty child
bears, the blessed Cubs themselves.
 

1908 Cubs To gaze upon America’s team
is to gaze upon a manifest destiny so bright in outlook, even blind
men have been seen turning away from the glare!  The reigning World
Champions, while locked in a heated race with the swashbucklers of Penn’s
Woods’ Pitt-City, boast a far-superior club, and once they get their
ducks in order… head for the hills, dear opponent!  Between
Mordecai Brown’s three fingered witchery, and Ed Ruelbach’s quiet
dominance, this club is poised to win championship after championship
for years to come.  Cobb certainly will wish he was returned to
the stalk after facing one of the aforementioned mound dwellers –
same as last October.
 

The Chicago Cubs will win it
all once again!
 

What say you, Dingbat? 

PS. How insightful was Frank
Chance’s sale of the quack Doc Marshall to the Superbas of Manhattan’s
armpit? Leave it up to Chance, say I! Leave it up to Chance!
 

PPS. Steal any more fruit bound
for the unappreciated beauty you call wife, and I will cut you nice
and good.

- – -

Written by

‘Alabaster’ Eastman Thune
Former editor of the “Follies and Whatnots” section of the Chicago Inter-Ocean. 



Currently unemployed.

“Alabaster” is known for coining the popular quip:  “An Irishman and
his whiskey are like the Father Sky and his Sun – you are guaranteed
that the latter will show up in the former each day of God’s blessed
week.”

For more on the nature of Ninemen’s Morris, please click *HERE*

15 Comments

Those posts are such fun to read. Really enjoyable. Can you imagine speaking like that? Was it all tongue in cheek back then? Crazy insight into the baseball teams of the time.

Buz – http://buzblog.mlblogs.com/

I believe it was, yeah. Someday when you’re bored go to the library and look at the sports section from the newspaper around the turn of the 20th century. Quite hilarious! So much attitude! Thanks for checkin’ in, Buz.
–Jeff

Jeff love the Nineman’s Morris like I said. Whats with all the -iths and such sort. I can’t imagine to speak like that. What ninnies, haha. ;)

Ted’s Take

http://tribewithted.mlblogs.com/

Ted — Glad you like it. I don’t knowith whatith uppith with thatith.
–Jeff

The deft wordsmithery is enough to make these Ninemen’s posts worthy of eager anticipation, but the miles off-base foreshadowing by Silas and Alabaster is just freakin priceless!
–Jonestein
http://jonestein.mlblogs.com

Jonestein — I will most assuredly pass on your forthwith commentary to the aged old journalists upon our next construation of nitwittery and bagger-dance cheer!
–Jeff

I think Alabaster was probably writing porn on the side. He had the knack.

- http://janeheller.mlblogs.com

Jane — You are correct, ma’am! I mean, I won’t say yay or nay because I agreed to protect Alabaster’s anonymity… but you’re on the right path.
–Jeff

Times have changed! It’s amazing.. Great postith:p
http://clevelandbaseball.mlblogs.com/

09indians – Thanks! And yes, they’ve changed significantly, but the great thing is that the GAME itself is still the same.
–Jeff

The Following was lifted directly from a letter to this journalist from one Silas ‘Red’ Quigley, 8 years prior to the writing above the above article:

“To assuage your most despondant and primordial fears, rest assured that Iam not now nor have I ever been an authentic member of that anemic andstricken past-time that is the Leftist regime. If rumors of such involvement have reached your, rest assured that I only participate intheir humdrum ralleys and perspicacious escalades for the purpose of whatthe colloquials refer to as “chasing rump,” a vaunted practice with which I know you are well aquainted. There is within the socialist regime ahighly concentrated population of buxom and immoral young delectables, andwith little reservations I preach to them upon a veritable cornicopia ofsociological and philological topics with the purpose of “lubricating the chute,” as the saying goes.”

Let me propose to you, dear reader, that this Quigley is a man of low moral standing, and that you refrain from reading any more of his quasi-intellectual drivel! He knows nothing of our beloved Morris, and less about the state of national affairs. Do not get mired in his muck.

Yours in good faith,
Alabaster

haha. When I get a chance, I will go to the library and look for those newspapers. I am liking being “friends of the library” and being invited to events there like an upcoming wine and cheese event and book sales.
.
About Penny, Saturday I think I will mosey over to the visitor bullpen area and see what Dodger fans will be telling Penny while he is warming up :-)
Emma
http://crzblue.mlblogs.com/

There ya have it, folks. Alabaster is serious.
And Emma, I can guarantee you this: the words you’ll hear spewed at a Penny would most certainly be bleeped out if you tried to write them on MLBlogs.
–Jeff

I think Alabaster is making the move on the Lady Hermilina.

(LOL…and where did you come up with THAT name? “Hermilina” sounds like an STD one of my buddies got on his last mancation to the Dominican Republic)
–Jonestein
http://jonestein.mlblogs.com

Jonestein — Alabaster and Silas simply tell it how it is. Her name is Hermilina. They taketh what they’re giveth ;-) (She IS a looker and I know when I refer to my “buddies” I’m usually talking about myself. LOL.)
–Jeff

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