Results tagged ‘ Democrats ’
Before you start jumping to conclusions, dear readers, let me just say that I don’t think Vice President Joe Biden’s aides were in the right for locking Orlando Sentinel reporter, Scott Powers, in the closet during a recent Alan Ginsburg-paid soiree to raise money for the 2012 election campaign. If Biden’s aides are as sexy and savvy as the RSBS interns, then they surely had a good reason for keeping Mr. Powers confined to a small space for such a long time.*
As a bonafide megafortified soused-out baseball fanatic, I can honestly say that I’d like to keep a few players in the closet for the entire 2011 season, so that I can concentrate on the games being played rather than the asinine soap-operatic subplots of the whiny and perpetually irritating.
Who shall we keep locked up this season you ask? Well, I’ll tell you:
This is a tough call because Nyjer’s antics often result in beanball wars and Jeff Lungian smackdowns — both staples of maintaining my healthy psyche. But, when a player constantly runs his mouth and ends up getting his teammates hurt, then I think it’s time to get out the jaw-wiring. Besides, Morgan’s a
Nat Brewer. No one will even notice he’s gone.
He’s an idiot. He’s a birther. He’s an Oriole. And all of those things make him… irrelevant. A perfect candidate to be closeted. For the season. All of it!
And finally, if we’re going to be throwing folks in the closet for the season, let us not leave out…
I know that being a Seattle Mariner inherently keeps Milton’s whining out of the headlines (few people care to read the perils of such a slogging team), but this dude isn’t just a baby. He isn’t just a clubhouse cancer. He’s also a wife-beater. Not only that, but the man is not a good baseball player. He had one decent year, got paid and then went back to being a snake.
To the closet they go!
Hate me ‘cuz I’m slingin’ mud, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
*This is also how Mr. Krause’s parents shielded him from the temptations of adolescence.
And no, silly, this has nothing to do with Estonia joining the Eurozone, though I do admit, that Eurozone has a lot more going for it than just a snazzy name now that Estonia is in the mix! Look out European Union, ‘cuz y’all haven’t seen oil shale til you’ve seen Estonia!
No, what I actually want to tell you about is something I am still rather reluctant to report: I’ve… I’ve been watching… basketball.
I know, I know, I know… I gave up on basketball back before Charles Barkley ate Jabba the Hutt and I never, EVER, had any regrets. It’s an individual sport. A natural obsession for those with ADHD. An abomination of the thinking man’s game.
Yes, I still believe all of the above is true… but, it was a long, arduous baseball offseason for me and I got antsy and I was just begging for something — anything! — to get me to Spring Training and that’s when I saw…
I saw something… something special… something… MAGICAL.
His name is Derrick Rose.
Now I’m not going to go all John Kerry and flip-flop on y’all… but I am going to admit that I am willing to work with this here NBA thing a little bit longer. Because while the Kobe Bryants and LeBron James and Chris Boshes of the world may leave a sour taste in the mouth of public opinion, Derrick Rose is not just a budding superstar beginning to dominate the entire league, but he is also (as far as I can tell) a genuinely nice guy.
People like him. He’s cool. He’s just a kid having fun.
And I was at a game earlier this season where he did this:
I saw that and I just knew. I just knew, this kid is gonna kill the competition. And if you haven’t been paying attention to the NBA this year (again, I don’t blame if you haven’t), he is doing just that. In fact, I liken his domination to that of Albert Pujols: when I watch him play, I feel like I am watching one of the greatest who ever lived.
Soon, real baseball games will begin and my full attention will be focused on the boys of summer; but I can honestly say, for the first time since the Clinton administration, I will definitely be checking in on the Bulls’ playoff progress.
Don’t hate me. ‘Cuz I’m right.
PS, If you want to see three minutes and forty-four seconds more of Derrick Rose magic, check out this vid!
Today is election day here in the Chi. Rahm. Carol. Chico. Some other guy. Those are your choices for mayor. Oh… I mean, those are your Democratic party choices. In this town, Republicans just hang out at the local deep dish joint and get fat, occasionally showing up to an event to slam a Democrat or two. Such slams are rarely heard. Like they say, if a tree falls…
And don’t worry. When I showed up to vote this morning I didn’t let that pesky ghost of Ron Santo standing outside the polling center sway me. And judging by the turnout (or lack thereof), I don’t think anyone else is voting him in either.
Some things never change… like…
MR. KRAUSE’S WAR!
So, will you or won’t you, dear readers? Will you follow my jaded and oft lugubrious colleague, Mr. Allen Krause, to the trenches of a baseball-less existence… all to stick it to a guy (assuming Bud Selig does have proper male anatomy) who doesn’t care, who isn’t listening, who won’t get it anyway? Are you really ready to stay home and watch Maury all day instead of batting practice? Are you prepared to sulk in the reality that is a soulless sports sanctuary that includes *cough* the NBA and NHL? You do know that this has nothing to do with forcing change (why bring it up just now after all these years?) and everything to do with misery loves company, right?
It’s true dear readers… and it’s all the fault of…
Who else is to blame for Mr. Krause’s sudden bout of revolutionary activism? Why it can only be his beloved man-crush Miguel Cabrera, of course! With Miggy’s er… uh… “issues” causing alarm throughout the Tigers organization, Mr. Krause knows that his team’s season could be well over before it even starts. And that is why he is rushing to react, to draw in troops, to overthrow the baseball world so we all lose sight of Detroit slipping below Kansas City in the win column.
Believe it. Or don’t. Just don’t say you weren’t warned by someone in the know.
And… don’t hate me. ‘Cuz I’m right.
Just like a Pedro Martinez pitched inning circa 1999, this is gonna be quick, probably painful and will most likely include more soul-glo than the FDA deems acceptable:
A few weeks ago, I ran into Rahm Emanuel at the Roosevelt Red Line stop. I shook his hand, wished him luck in the Chicago mayoral election, then basked in the warm glory that is his presence. Yeah, kinda makes me sick too. But I can’t lie. He had a an insidiously welcoming glow about him. And as I stood there, standing next to (and above, as the man is quite short) him, I couldn’t help but debate myself, asking Well, Jeff, are we on Rahm’s team or no?
Of course, Rahm is Rahm and Rahms don’t go down without a fight.
So let’s sit back and watch as time and LOTS OF MONEY are wasted on the proceedings.
The American Way.
Se la vie.
Call it desperation or call it genius (I’m goin’ with genius, by the way), but the Tamp Bay Rays certainly found a flashy way to fill some holes in their lineup by adding Idiot One and Idiot Two to their roster. On the cheap! Hey, if they could just convince Curt Schilling (and that unstoppable mouth) to suit back up, maybe the Rays will have a real chance at stickin’ it to the Yank Sox again this year! If nothing else they have succeeded in ultimately defying logic: Manny Ramirez will get $2 million while *GASP* Kyle Farnsworth will make $2.7 million! WTF?!?!?!?
Say what you want about the Chicago Bears and their NFC Championship performance, but as a Chicagoan, I call out to all fellow Chicagoans to lay off Jay Cutler. For realz.
In fact, I’m just gonna shut up about it and defer to RSBS regular, Johanna Mahmud with the quote:
“you can never quiet the stupid.“
Hate me, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Oh, don’t pretend like you haven’t thought about what your walk-up music would be. Me? Depends on the mood, but right now it’d be the first few bars of Cats, Van, Bags, or anything by Slayer.
For others, it may be something more tributary. I fondly remember getting out of my seat and dancing every time Eli Marrero came to the plate with his uptempo salsa music blasting the stadium. And how could I forget my first Adam Dunn walk-up? Allen was there with me. We were both in awe by his slow Phil Collins inspired saunter!
But I just plain don’t like it when politicians try to adopt songs from pop culture. I didn’t like Bill Clinton’s use of what was once a great Fleetwood Mac song (mostly because of how it affected Al and Tipper, which subsequently made me throw up in my mouth, a lot) and I am not very fond of the current GOP’s outlandish claim to the Carrie Underwood song “Undo It”.
Hold on a sec…
* * *
Okay, I’m back. I had to go break some s***.
Undo it!?!?!?!? How about you undo the notion that the previous band of politicians wasn’t fairly elected to make some big @ssed decisions that we — the friggin PEOPLE — asked them to make.
This whole running a country thing… it isn’t a game. It’s not something to be taken lightly. So I propose that the new majority spend less time thinking about what they want their walk-up music to be, and more time finding out how to pay for health care; because I think I broke my hand a minute ago breaking some s*** and now I need to go to Urgent Care.
Also, Carrie Underwood is too damn sexy to be associated with… Glenn Beck.
Hate me. I don’t care. Just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Now that we have had some time to reflect on the long awaited senate floor victory in repealing the “Don’t Ask Don’t Tell” policy which banned homosexuals from openly being… themselves while serving in our nation’s military, I have to ask just one, important question:
WHY DID IT TAKE SO FRIGGIN’ LONG?!?!?
Because we are not talking about a fine Scotch that needs to sit in a smoked barrel for 18 years, we’re talking about human beings — human beings who are who they are because they are who they are, just like human beings are White or Black or Asian or Cubs fans because that’s just who they are. The fact that we allowed our government to implement such an anti-liberty policy in an institution meant to protect us and our allies, granting and preserving liberty, of all things, is a goddamn travesty, dear readers!
This is US America. We are supposed to set the bar high. And when it comes to treating our fellow man as we would want to be treated, we are really f***ing bad at it. Yeah, yeah, I know haters g’on hate… but why? What is there to hate? What difference does it make to you where so-and-so puts his thing-a-ma-bob while in the comforts of his bedroom with his lover? Huh? WHAT DIFFERENCE DOES IT MAKE?
Unless you’re ignorant.
And unfortunately, a lot of people are really, really ignorant.
I can only hope that some day, somehow, someway, people wake up to the simple reality that life would be a lot better for ALL OF US if we just learn to treat each other with respect, like we would want to be treated. The golden rule, my friends. The golden rule.
And the golden rule would definitely welcome the current “homosexual political agenda” in the United States, which is simply:
“To be protected against violent crimes driven by bigotry, to be able to get married, to be able to get a job, and it’s to be able to fight for our country.”
—Barney Frank (D-MA)
That was a pretty lame pun… one that has probably been done a bazillion times already.
But I don’t care, because it justly proves my point — literally and figuratively — that people with money, people with power, people with clout (like New York governor David Paterson) often get whatever they want, whenever they want it; and you and I Joe Plumbers never hear about it.
NOT THIS TIME!!!
So, as the good gov’nuh pays out his $62K fine (which, is roughly how much Alex Rodriguez makes every three innings) for stickin’ the taxpayer with the cost of his World Series tickets, let us remember that, indeed, even the rich don’t always get what they want.
Unless this was some Red Sox fan-fueled controversy that originated with ill intentions meant to disrupt and expose the Yankees’ front office and their ongoing lobbying interests (which may or may not involve the absolute destruction of Ted Williams’ frozen head).
Yeah, yeah, I know… it’s been over a year since Teddy’s head was even relevant, but just like they say: revenge is a dish best served cold.
Or, on a stick.
Hate me ‘cuz it’s Monday, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
I say Prince picks on the overall fitness of US America.
Or something like that…
Just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Happy Veterans Day! Thank you, to all those who serve! We tip our caps!
One media-savvy New York minute prepped skipper to go.
And as long as Davey Johnson refuses to come out of retirement and lead the Mets back to respectability, it looks like new GM Alderson and company are gonna have a pretty big decision to make in the very near future. But like always, RSBS is here to help! In fact, we would like to see Mets fans smile every now and then, so we got the interns busy and boy did they come up with some mighty smart suggestions!
He’s a New Yorker. He’s got a lisp (which indicates ability to persevere… and succeed?). He hates smut and could really clean up the place (talkin’ about you, Ollie Perez, you waste of oxygen).
Then again, Rudy is a Yankees fan. So he’s probably a real a$$h0le.
Why not? The world’s greatest all-time distance runner just retired… while in New York! If anyone can endure such pain, such suffering, such mental anguish… oh, wait, he didn’t finish the New York Marathon? See! That’s why he’s perfect! He’ll fit right in with the Metropolitans and their penchant for pre-finish line collapses!
Remember that black cat that ran across the field during the opening night at Citi Field? Uh…. yeah. That was no accident, folks. That was the work of a witch. A non-masturbating, adamant teabagging, scary spell spewing witch. Holla!!!
Dude! Conan RULED New York back in the day… remember? Then he got the big show, moved to L.A. and got canned a few months in. Sounds a lot like Darryl Strawberry, doesn’t it? Yep. The connections are too great to ignore. So don’t.
I know he’s being interviewed for the job… and I know he’s sort of a lame duck skipper… but the man is ORANGE!!! Move over, Mr. Met, Clint and his biohazzard-proof skin are ’bout to back that a$s up right into yo clubhouse!
Hate me ‘cuz it’s Tuesday, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
I mean, a lot has happened in the last week or so to warrant plenty of no-limit megafortified soused out partying — the kind of partying Mr. Krause and I used to do back in our… well, yesterday.
But not even our dynamic duo could match the celebratory merits of the state of California in recent days. Let’s review the highlights:
All sounds good, right?
Except that Jenny Oropeza is dead.
On election day!
But if California despises anything it’s gotta be the GOP. And who can blame them? Ronald Reagan, what have you done for me lately? Huh?
The Republicans may have hoodwinked the imbecilic US American consensus with their unparalleled fear-based badgering and faux middle class talking points, but the late Jenny Oropeza’s state senate victory is proof that their diabolic plan is far, far, far from being a reality.
Hate me ‘cuz it hasn’t been banned yet, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.