Results tagged ‘ GW Bush ’
THANKS!!!
In just a short while, we US Americans will begin that hallowed tradition of spending quality time with family by gorging ourselves on a bounty of food, drinking excessive amounts of Johnnie Walker Black and falling asleep on the couch only to wake up with unidentifiable aches and pains in places never before felt.
Well, maybe that’s just me.
In any case, given the copious amounts of bull**** recently posted by my colleague, Mr. Krause, whose intellectual ineptitude forces him to fall into that age-old Blue State trap of logorrhea where valid questions are only answered with an arsenal of equally unrelated questions, I have found solace in you, Dear Readers, and your ability to see that — as usual — I am right.
Thank you.
In fact, since this time of year is all about giving thanks, I am going to rightfully refrain from causing any further damage to Mr. Krause’s ego by letting him be (just for today) and instead would like to take a moment to give my most wholehearted thanks.
Indeed, there are many things to be thankful for today. I’m thankful that the Cubs have gone 100 years without a World Series title. I am thankful that the Cardinals are actually considering filling some left-handed reliever roles (even if it is by courting a couple of scrubs). I am thankful that I live in the Second City — that we have two firery baseball icons who are willing to make fools of themselves by performing a ridiculous rap song for the good of Chevrolet; and I am thankful that senior citizens ride the CTA free, fat senior citizens ride two for the price of one, which is also free. I’m also thankful that Dubya is on his way out, that an Iowan turkey (ironically not Chuck Grassley this time) will be able to live a long, eaten-free life and that Minnesota has replaced Florida (for now) as the state where your vote might not really count.
But most of all, I am thankful for you, Dear Readers. For it is you that truly makes RSBS the special little happy place where baseball-politico egos, arguments and aspirations go to make sweet, sweet love. And for that, Mr. Krause and I couldn’t be more grateful.
We have given our staff the rest of the week off. Allen has left for that cavernous pit of despair otherwise known as Los Angeles (or Where Souls Go to Die) while I will be spending the rest of the week reflecting on my podunk roots with my quaint family in Springfield, IL — once home to Abraham Lincoln, Barack Obama and of course, Me.
Happy Thanksgiving to all and don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Peace,
Jeffy
Please Excuse My Colleague’s Blind Ignorance; He’s a Michigander and Therefore Knows Not the Error of His Ways
Indeed, Misery, thy name is Detroit.
Equally so, Ignorance, thy name is Mr. Allen Krause.
“…the fact is, neither of them [Albert Pujols, Dustin Pedroia] deserved the MVP for this year.”
— Allen Krause, Misery, Thy Name is Detroit
Ordinarily, I prefer to eschew my impetus to pass judgment and/or speculate the grounds of one’s idiocy, but in this case, Mr. Krause, I’m afraid there is no explanation for your blasphemy other than to say you must be smoking the same stuff as our dear leader; and it’s certainly beginning to show.
Next you’ll be saying things like:
Or…
Or even worse:
Look, I and our dear readers all know that even though you reside in Washington, D.C., you’re still a Michigander at the core of your being and with that comes a certain inherited blind ignorance in the way of assessing athletic achievement. And we all realize that, aside from your Hockeytown Redwings, you don’t have much to cheer about these days. U of M looks like a pop-warner team. The Tigers are the baseball equivalent of our nation’s financial mess. The Lions are an absolute abomination, better fit for cleaning toilets in an Amtrak restroom than trying to execute the fundamentals of football.
But when you say that both Pujols and Pedroia were not rewarded for their efforts this season but rather for feats of the past, I have no choice but to postulate: what the $#%& is wrong with you?!?!
Pujols’ numbers were hands down the best of anyone this season. He is always an MVP candidate for the simple fact that he is always getting better and always carrying his team. He won the MVP in 2005. He should’ve won in 2004. This year, 2008, above any else, was certainly cause for him to win again because without Pujols in that lineup, the Cardinals would’ve probably been the 20 games under .500 team everyone thought they’d be at the start.
In the case of Pedroia, his 2008 achievements were far better than his 2007 achievements. He proved himself an invaluable leader throughout the season both with his bat and his glove, not to mention his guts and brawn.
So where the hell do you find it reasonable to compare these two paragons of baseball accomplishment to Denzel Washington and his role in Training Day, which, by the way, was also very well acted no matter what you think, Mr. Krause.
I’d suggest that you take this upcoming Thanksgiving holiday to give thanks that despite your inability to successfully formulate sensible arguments with actual information to back yo ^ss up you still have a cushy intellectual job that turns a blind eye to your inaccuracies, as grave as they are.
Oh yes, Al, you can hate me. That’s fine. Just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Peace,
Jeffy
Does that make Palin a poor man’s Selig?
Bud Selig. One of the worst baseball commissioners or the worst? Discuss amongst yourselves. Only a man who has the hubris to continue in his position after the steroid scandal could possibly have given us Monday night’s bizarre reading of the rules. Hey, here’s an idea for you. If the weather is so crappy it’s going to be hard to get the game in and there’s a possibility of a suspension or a shortened game, DON’T PLAY THE F&%$ING GAME! Wait a day. What else is going on in the baseball world that makes it absolutely necessary to play the game that night? And if you have enough authority to circumvent the rules, why not go whole hog and unilaterally postpone the game?
This is the difference between George W. Bush and Bud Selig. They both think they’re “The Decider” but only one of them has the will to actually go through with it. People may not agree with W and his decisions but at least he made them while they still counted. Selig is a poor man’s W, a John McCain, if you will:
And that’s where we stand, dear readers. The World Series and this baseball season could be over this evening. And the election could be over by this time next week (barring any Florida or Ohio based shenanigans). But unlike Bud Selig, we can make a decision and that’s why we’ll still be here for you tomorrow, next week and for as long as it takes.
-A
Let’s Get It Right, Shall We?
As if the ho-hum disinterest of the 2008 World Series wasn’t enough to slow us down, now we die-hards have to wait and see what happens with mother nature before our venerable King Bud passes down his judgment so that the game can ultimately go on. Having fully digested this oddity of baseball circumstance, the feeling I have now is eerily similar to that which I had on Election Night 2000 when a clear winner for the White House could not be determined with 100% accuracy. Instead, I was forced to wait… and wait…
…and then suffer — for eight years.
But in this case, such doom seems unlikely. In fact, with Hamels out and David Price in (maybe?) I’d say the advantage definitely goes to the Rays; which means there is hope that I will conclusively prove Mr. Krause wrong (yet again)!
I like that.
What I don’t like is public displays of idiocy: GW Bush, Amy Winehouse, MLB.com.
Yeah, I said it.
Because when I logged on this morning to get an update on the weather situation, the graphic they had blasting over the front page had a couple of big fat ugly typos on it:
Sure, they fixed it about an hour after I first saw it, but in this line of business, there is no excuse for misspelling words — even if it seems like people from Pittsburgh never pay attention to baseball. And unless the Roots are designing graphics for MLB.com, “Phildelphia” is not a real place.
We here at RSBS have a full staff of highly educated pompous grammar-wh0re proofreaders — and by “full” I mean Mr. Krause and I. But that seems to –
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WE INTERRUPT THIS POST TO ANNOUNCE THAT WE HOPE TO RESUME WRITING SAID POST AS SOON AS THE ELEMENTS ALLOW AND WE’D JUST LIKE TO ADD THAT WE DON’T KNOW WHEN THAT WILL BE EXACTLY BUT WE PROMISE THAT IT WILL ADD TO THE ANTI-CLIMACTIC NATURE CLEARLY EVIDENT IN BASEBALL THE LAST COUPLE OF DAYS SO YOU’LL AT LEAST GET WHAT YOU’VE BEEN GETTIN’
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Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Peace,
Jeffy
Nailing Jell-O to the Wall
“You know, nailing down Sen. Obama’s various tax proposals is like nailing Jell-O to the wall.”
— Senator John McCain, October 7, 2008
You know, hearing this line over and over again is like watching that drunk uncle of yours wet himself at the family picnic — you feel sorry for him but at the same time you sorta like the idea of him making a fool of himself.
That being said, let me get to the heart of what’s really bothering me: why must Jell-O, an otherwise innocently delicious treat, be dragged into this foray of US American politics where hubris meets sophism for a night of long, agonizing repetition? Seriously, I want to know: what did Jell-O ever do to deserve such scrutiny? Huh? Can anyone answer me that!?!
Let’s look at the facts, shall we, dear readers? Jell-O. It’s sweet. It’s sticky. It’s jiggly.
It’s best when chilled.
It’s even better with vodka, in shot form.
And now it’s got me thinking…
If Obama’s tax proposals — which will offer we regular US American joes, who DON’T make $250,000 a year, a break while asking the wealthy to pitch in a bit more — is like nailing Jell-O to the wall, then nailing Jell-O to the wall sounds like something we all better learn how to do. Pronto.
I see what the senator from Arizona was trying to do here. He was trying to hide his condescension with a sprinkling of cutesy cleverness. I didn’t buy it. As usual, he came across as an old, bitter man still damaged from W’s vicious assaults during the 2000 campaign who is completely out of touch with normalcy (here, normalcy indicates those millions of individuals who are struggling right now, including me).
Whilst my struggles (financial, social, mental) weigh heavily on my mind right now, luckily, I am still able to find solace during this special time of year: the MLB Playoffs. Sure, the Cards didn’t make it, the White Sox blew it and the Cubs aren’t around to ridicule anymore.
But collectively, we, as US Americans have four fine representatives to distract us for the next couple of weeks and I think we all (Red States, Blue States, Purple States) can agree on that. What’s more exciting than watching the youth movement in Tampa Bay battle the Boston Red Sox (aka The New Yankees)? While I have been off and on with my predictions this season, I’m gonna jump on the Tampa Bay train (as opposed to the Jason Bay train) because let’s face it: we need change we can believe in, folks; and Red Sox fans have proven that no matter how good they are or how many championships they win, they will still have an energy-draining inferiority complex coupled with roughly a bazillion things to complain about.
The Senior Circuit also offers us an intense battle as we prepare to watch the Los Angeles Dodgers of Los Angeles fight against ‘dem phightin’ Philadelphia Phillies (Mr. Krause’s pick to click). While I will admit my preference is certainly for the National League style of play, I have a strong feeling that this match-up is going to be a snoozer compared to the AL series.
In fact, I might just go as far as to say that, comparatively speaking, watching the NLCS will be like nailing Jell-O to the wall.
Good pitching always beats good hitting: Tampa Bay v. Dodgers in the finale.
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Peace,
Jeffy
Exclusive “W” Speech Preview
Our undistinguished, verbally challenged dear leader will be giving a very important speech on the maligned state of the economy later this evening. As an integral cog in the wheel of fast-forward journalism, RSBS was able to acquire an advanced copy of the speech by wielding its magical charm and flashing our telltale aura. After a thorough study, we feel it is our civic baseball-politico duty to go ahead and give you, dear reader, a short preview of W’s finer points to come:
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“The economy? Yeah. It’s bad. Surprised? That’s what I do. Remember the Rangers? That was my team. I owned it. Y’ever want to cry about something, cry about that… yeah, you… what? It’s called baseball. Sometimes you win… sometimes… sometimes you don’t win and sometimes, well, it rains.”
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“Sarah Palin… yeah… she’s a hottie. She’ll do alright here in my house. She will. Trust me. I’m from Texas.”
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“You really want to vote in someone with the middle name Hussein? Don’t you read your emails? I do. That’s what a president does. He reads. Have you read Green Eggs and Ham? You should. If you don’t you’re what I call un-American.”
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“You shouldn’t be focussed or worried on the economy. We will bail those companies out. And if I can get congress to get on board, we’ll also bail out the Montreal Ex– er, I mean, the Washington Nationals. And the Pirates. And maybe the Yankees.”
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“John McCain. Vote for him. Remember, I still have my finger on the red button until January so don’t mess with me. Don’t mess with Texas.”
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“I’m tired of hearing about red states and blue states. Put ‘em together and whadya get? Purple states. And that’s our color. Purple. Let’s just be purple.”
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“Life ain’t all that bad, people. Don’t you pay attention to the Cubs? They’re good this year. I predict they win the Stanley Cup.”
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“Did I mention that Sarah Palin’s hot?”
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“The war on terror costs money. So get over it.”
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“Don’t take your money out of the banks. Leave it there. I may need to use it later in Iran. Guess you could call that one of the perks of being the bossman. Hehe. I get to use your money and you can’t do nothin’ about it. Sure, you can vote for the other guy, but you did that already and I still won. Ha! Straight shooter!”
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So there you have it folks. Consider yourselves forewarned and don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Peace,
Jeffy
The Art of Irony, Backstabbing & Hopelessness
“Don’t give up, don’t ever give up.”
– Jim Valvano (1946 -1993)
Jimmy V is rolling in his grave.
On Thursday, in what became a Red State Blue State first, my once respected colleague and amicable opponent Allen Krause, officially gave up on his beloved Detroit Tigers. Though they’re only 7.5 games back of the first place White Sox, Mr. Krause could not help but revert back to his status quo of negativity, sighting that the Tigers’ outlandish payroll and futile mediocrity was just too much — an endeavor he hadn’t the heart nor the patience to endure. It caused shockwaves throughout baseball, causing these guys to say:
Congratulations, Mr. Krause, on joining the dishonorable ranks of fellow traitors Judas, Benedict Arnold and Jim Edmonds.
Honestly, this really shouldn’t be all that surprising to me; but in an odd sort of way, it is. We are US Americans. US Americans don’t give up. We never give up.
When the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor, did we sulk and cry and feel sorry for ourselves?
No.
Down three games to none in the 2004 ALCS, did the Boston Red Sox give up against the Evil Empire simply because the odds against them winning were next to none?
No.
And what about the spirit of US Americans after 9/11, the Bush administration, a flailing economy, tarnished foreign policies and an ill-conceived war of shadow chasing? Did we all just throw our hands up in the air and ‘throw in the towel’?
NO!
When one loses hope — when he loses his identity, his affiliation for that which brings him joy — when he loses his propensity for positivism and forces his bleak outlook on the world using the headline Keep Ya Head Up, we — those who remain steadfast in our patriotic alliances to all things good — have no choice but to denounce and reject both the negativity monger and his infectious ideas.
You fooled me, Mr. Krause. You had me thinking you were with the Tigers all the way — unconditionally. Yes, you fooled me. You know, they have an old saying in Tennessee…
For future reference, Mr. Krause, if you’re gonna bail on your team, do us all a favor and please refrain from disgracing the hip-hop legend that is Tupac. He doesn’t deserve to be associated with your hapless despondency.
Because of you, he’s probably rolling around in his grave too. And by “grave” I do mean the champagne room in the back of a Las Vegas hot spot.
Oh yeah, he’ll be back.
I believe.
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Peace,
Russian Roulette
Jason Isringhausen. Ryan Franklin. Ron Villone. Kyle McClellan.
Spin the chamber. Pull the trigger. See who you get.
On Sunday night, you got Russ Springer in the 8th inning. You also got the rocket-like go-ahead homerun Shane Victorino catapulted off the aging journeyman reliever, which ruined a splendid starting performance by Todd Wellemeyer.
So it’s the same old story in St. Louis.
The bullpen is about as reliable as GW Bush is eloquent and the Cardinals have done a wonderful job of losing tight ballgames all season long because no one in the pen has been able to close the deal. No one instills fear. No one throws better than my grandma.
While John Mozeliak looks more and more like Ann Coulter, the Cardinals look more and more like a rollover ballclub that realistically can’t compete with the rest of the division, league, sport.
Dear readers, the dreaded paradigm shift seems to have begun. Don’t adjust your monitor; what you are witnessing is real. It appears that the Cardinals of today are not the Cardinals of yesterday. They went from a heady go-get-em front office to a sit back and pray for the best front office in just one GM switch; and I’m afraid that in baseball, that philosophy doesn’t ever work.
Look at the Royals.
I have gone to great lengths to adequately describe — with videos and pictures — the extreme pain and anguish involved in watching the Cardinals try to hold a lead late in the game. Presently, I feel that I am at a loss for expression. How can I go any lower?
I’m afraid I can’t. But I am an US American and US Americans don’t give up. We never give up, even when a bitter, out-of-touch GOP presumptive nominee fails to realize that he received donations from a prominent hotelier who just so happened to sire the very vixen said nominee compared his opponent to in a scrupulous attack ad meant to instill psychological distrust among the mass of US Americans. No, we don’t give up in the face of such abuses of power, and we won’t give up in the fight against mediocrity.
To prove that this calloused plight is real, I recently started the Bring Bruce Sutter Out of Retirement Campaign. While I go door to door to bring back Bruce, I also arranged for Dave LaRoche to school the Cardinals bullpen on the finer points of the Eephus pitch exhibited here:
It might not seem like much, but it’s more comforting than TLR and Dunc spinning the chamber and hoping they don’t get their brains blown out. Of course, the optimist in me realizes that things could always be worse…
We could be the Tigers after all.
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Peace,
Jeffy
Countdown to Incompetence
The July 31st trade deadline isn’t getting any further away yet the St. Louis Cardinals front office, led by GM John Mozeliak, seems content with not trying to get better for a possible playoff push. Apparently, Mozeliak, who is beginning to remind us of a certain head of state stubborn enough to believe his own methods of irresponsibility and subtle lunacy will actually work despite the entire planet’s discouragement, is quite okay with sitting back and letting fate (or the lack thereof) decide the ballclub’s competitive future.
In case you weren’t watching that god-awful series against the Brewers last week, Mr. Mozeliak, the Cardinals desperately need bullpen reinforcements. DESPERATELY. Pull the trigger. Go out and get a guy who can hold a lead in the late innings. Do something — anything — that will prove to Cardinals fans that you actually care. We US Americans can no longer accept the fact that the Cubs, Brewers, Yankees, even the Astros, are spending a little bit of money, going out and getting all the pieces they need to make it to the post season.
And now that Izzy has been given the closer duties — again — our best bet is to have at least a 9-run lead going into the final innings of the game. The Cardinals bullpen has already given me a serious heart condition and as I have said before, watching them in save situations makes me extremely uncomfortable.
How uncomfortable?
As uncomfortable as you’ll feel watching this:
Yes, that really happened.
Yes, Corey Feldman really takes himself seriously.
And yes, it’s hard to feel more uncomfortable than that… though the Cardinals brass, with their non-existent attempts at making a deal, are trying their very hardest to best it.
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Peace,
Jeffy
Blame It On the Booze
Yes, dear readers, our venerable GW Bush came out yesterday and enlightened us with what has really been going on with the continuously slumping economy. Folks, it had nothing to do with poor management at home, questionable foreign policies nor an ever widening gap between Red and Blue US American ideologies. No.
“Wall Street got drunk.”
– G.W. Bush
Thank the gods. I was a tad bit worried there as I watched gas prices in Chicago soar to $4.50 a gallon. I was just slightly disturbed when I spent $40 bucks at CVS and all I bought were paper towels, crossword puzzles and American Pie: Band Camp on DVD. And I was a tad nervous when the doctor told me he could remove the lesions if only I put on a blonde wig, some heels and called him “Daddy”.
But thankfully, none of that was a result of a gummed-up government overrun by lobbyists and big oil. No. Wall Street has just been boozin’ a bit… and that, dear readers, is certainly understandable.
Because nothin’ says America like a good old buzz.
I certainly am not immune from this. In fact, by perusing the plentiful posts here at RSBS one could rightfully gather that we (Allen and I) are a bunch of drunks ourselves. It’s true! We are not ashamed!
US America is a country built on the boozing backgrounds of Europeans, Asians, Africans — all drunks! Like baseball and apple pie, an everlasting state of drunkenness is simply the American way; Wall Street could not hide for long.
In light of this new information, let us follow the President’s lead:
Every good drunk needs his drunken hero and baseball has always provided plenty. From Babe Ruth to Ty Cobb to Josh Hamilton, the grandest game on earth has never stopped producing inebriated icons. Jim Edmonds was mine until he switched sides, but I’ve included his picture here still because of the pleasant company he keeps while out on the town. Nowadays, I look to the boozing comeback of Sidney Ponson for inspiration… what a story. And Rondell White. He wasn’t named in the Mitchell Report because of his weakness for Tanqueray and tonics *wink, wink* but the man was a leader in the party scene.
To these baseball heroes and a quick hangover recovery for our economy I raise my glass with you and say “Cheers!” I also ask that you don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m (burp) right.
Peace,
Jeffy
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