Results tagged ‘ Rod Blagojevich ’
Cub Slingin’
During a recent social outing, a Cub fan friend of mine (yeah, I know; I ain’t perfect, folks) mentioned how much he enjoyed RSBS now that I had seemingly lightened my unadulterated bashing and verbal vexing toward his beloved Northside team.
Upon reflection, I realized that I had indeed let my guard down… and noted that a good old Cub ego squashing was well overdue.
So in the confounded interests of being hack — carefully considering the fact that hack sells — I reluctantly invoke my inner Jeff Foxworthy in order to remind Cub fans just who they really are.
I declare:
- If you pop your collar, skip class and hang out at John Barleycorn with a pocketful of GHB, you might be a Cub fan.
- If you remind Southsiders about the 1919 Black Sox scandal at least once a day, you might be a Cub fan.
- If you think Wrigley Field is anything other than a dilapidated craphole with more falling parts than Amy Winehouse after happy hour, you might be a Cub fan.
- If you consider urinal trough diving an official sport, you might be a Cub fan.
- If you do not work yet can afford season tickets, you might be a Cub fan.
- If you are my brother-in-law and you made a baby with my sister, you might be a Cub fan (thanks a lot, Patrick, for ruining the Cardinal blood line).
- If you think the word “choke” only applies to baseball teams and has absolutely no physiological connotation at all, you might be a Cub fan.
- If you think a baseball game is just an excuse to shotgun Old Styles and annoy anyone within ten feet, you might be a Cub fan.
- If you think Magellan is the name of a shoe insert, you might be a Cub fan.
- If your team’s biggest fan is an impeached corrupt politician with Lego hair, you might be a Cub fan.
And of course, the most obvious sign can only be this:
If you sincerely hate my guts, you must be a Cub fan.
Go ahead and hate.
Just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Peace,
Jeffy
Words, Words, Words
“If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.”
— Everyone’s Mother
How very un-American our mothers are!
Indeed, freedom of speech — speaking one’s mind — venereal verbosity — is just but one of the many great attributes of being an US American. Believe me, after living in China for four years, it is both comforting and refreshing to know that I can publicly endorse the extreme social and mental benefits of playing the Harold Reynolds drinking game on a semi-regular basis. (*In China, drinking games are not allowed unless they are a) a way to dupe silly Americans into sending jobs overseas b) a way to dupe silly Americans into eating Fido and liking it or c) a means to getting drunk.)
Yet sometimes, our mothers seem to actually know what they are talking about. And such advice would really come in handy if your name was Alex Rodriguez or Ann Coulter or any one of these individuals:
Curt Schilling
He says publicly that he would like to make a comeback and play for either the Chicago Cubs or the Tampa Bay Rays. Okay. Fair enough, Curt. You are a gamer. You probably still have it in you to pitch at the Major League level. Yet, considering your less-than-admirable reputation among others in the league, would it not be more beneficial to just go about your business and get in the game rather than release a statement of who you would like to pitch for? And why the ultimatum for those two teams? Could you not pitch for the Pirates just as easily as you could the Cubs? This ploy is eerily similar to me drunk texting women from my past at three in the morning when I would be much better off going to bed or more successful by getting in a cab and just showing up at someone’s doorstep.
Rush Limbaugh
As an US American, it is one thing to say “I hope my party [the Republican Party] gains momentum and succeeds in the next presidential race.” I do not think anyone would have a problem with that. The problem is, the GOP’s own Jabba the Hutt did not say that. He said: “I hope he [President Obama] fails.”
Go eat yourself to death, Rush.
Steve Phillips
Personally, I like Steve Phillips and the general manager perspective he brings to ESPN’s broadcasts. In general, I find Phillips to be a decent guy who always calculates what he is going to say before he says it. But to publicly lambast Lou Piniella on his handling of Japanese imports (Kosuke Fukudome) is something even I find astonishing. He said:
“My view is Lou doesn’t have a great deal of patience of assimilation
into culture, assimilation in the team. He is just not the most patient
guy around and he tends to verbalize his frustrations in an angry way.
I think that may have affected Fukudome a little bit.”
Hmm. Well, Steve-O, I think you may have ticked Lou off just a tiny bit with that one. Ordinarily, I would attempt to defend you in some way, but then I saw how crazy you really are when you said: Dontrelle Willis will be the comeback player of the year in 2009.
Coo-koo!
Rod Blagojevich
Yes, the democrat who just won’t go away is still… around… and this time he is writing a book! Don’t feel bad, folks; I didn’t think he could read either, but apparently he can (or someone can for him) and when it is all said and done there will be a big, fat, juicy tell-all telling all about… er… eh… what we already know. Blago’s foray into Jose Canseco-ism may be a success only if he can convince anyone to care about what he has to say. From my vantage point, that ain’t happening. We are talking about corrupt politicians here, not homerun happy ‘roiders. Big difference.
Ryan Dempster
I know, I know. Dempster has not said anything extraordinarily stupid… yet. But he will. That is what he does.
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Peace,
Jeffy
**In lieu of THIS BREAKING NEWS, we at RSBS would like to congratulate Manny Ramirez and Scott Boras on successfully hijacking the Dodgers for the entire off-season. That is classy. No, that is Roberto Alomar I’ll-spit-AIDS-in-your-eye kind of classy. Believe that.
Impressions Great and Lasting
Springfield, Illinois was the epicenter of public embarrassment today as Rod Blagojevich stepped up to the political plate and delivered his most compelling impression of a soulful, hardworking, genuinely honest human being:
“How is it an impeachable offense for helping low income families keep their health? How can you impeach a governor when what we did was about helping families and kids?”
(image courtesy of the Chicago Tribune)
Uh… I think you are missing the point, Rod, because having something “(bleeping) golden” that you “just don’t give away for nothing” in regards to the vacated Illinois senate seat doesn’t really have anything to do with providing health care for low income families. But since you brought it up, let it be known that my back hurts like a (bleeping) (bleep) and my (bleeping) health insurance won’t (bleeping) cover a chiropractor so I am stuck in (bleeping) (bleeping) pain while you waste my tax dollars on giving free CTA rides to seniors, threaten to fire Chicago Tribune editors and balloon state debt by borrowing millions of dollars from the future.
Nice try, Rod.
Yet, I tip my hat. That performance in Springfield today was an excellent, Academy Award worthy acting job that will go down in history as being almost as entertaining as it was pathetic. I especially liked how you invoked the spirit of the 2 million Illinoisans who elected you twice, Rod — the same 2 million Illinoisans who now want you out of office.
Your dramatic impression of an incorruptible man was one for the record books, indeed.
So in light of this depressing state of Illinois politics, the impending unemployment of the Cubs’ biggest fan and the overall economic bitterness shared by US Americans the world over, let me introduce to you, dear readers, a man who will surely make you smile: Batting Stance Guy.
If you haven’t seen him yet, you should, and in an attempt to inject spunk back into the hearts and souls of taxpayin, apple-pie-eatin’, baseball lovin’ Joe Six-Packs out there, why don’t you enjoy some classic stances from the St. Louis Cardinals:
And in honor of the kind tribute Mr. Krause mustered up last minute (after the fact I must point out), I would like to reach across the aisle and offer you some classic Tiger stances as well:
Man, is he good or what!?!
Now those are what I call impressions.
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m (bleeping) right.
Peace,
Jeffy
P.S. He Gone!
Organ Grinding in Milwaukee
It’s official. Rod Blagojevich has been impeached. Now, you didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to see this coming but it’s funny that one month ago Blago was just another unremarkable midwestern governor and now he’s ready to join the pantheon of famous American pols hoisted by their own petard.
Don’t get me wrong, Blagojevich is no Nixon. He’s smarmy and well-coiffed but his f-bombs and attempted sale of a senate seat hardly compare to Nixon’s Machiavellian machinations which served to undermine America’s trust in its own government for a generation. Nor is the soon-to-be former governor an Andrew Johnson, consistently ranked as one of the worst presidents in history. He really can’t even stand up with the impeached but unconvicted and unsinkable Bill Clinton whose only real crime was his poor taste in women.
However, if Rod can be dispatched of for the mere suggestion of impropriety, this gives me hope. Perhaps we can apply the same standard to the current leader of Major League Baseball, Bud Selig, and hope he suffers a similar fate. To be fair, I’ll grant you that during his tenure baseball has seen both the best and worst of times. Owners are making money hand over fist and ticket sales are through the roof. But ordinary fans can no longer afford to buy those tickets. The lack of a salary cap has allowed teams to spend money like a bunch of drunken sailors (a crime that even my Tigers are guilty of and that Jeff wishes his Cards were capable of) and the strike in 1994 almost killed baseball. As if that weren’t enough, Selig’s chattering and dancing during the steroid era would make an organ grinder’s monkey blush.
The sad fact of the matter, though, is that Selig, just like Blagojevich, has committed no crime punishable by law and will probably get away with the unholiness he has perpetrated against unwitting baseball fans everywhere. The best we can hope for at this point is that he pulls an Eliot Spitzer and is forced to resign. Or maybe one of those sausages will go crazy during the cold Milwaukee winter and beat him senseless with a strip of styrofoam mustard. It could happen.
-A
Chaos A.D.
Hold on to your money-makers, dear readers… this is gonna be a thrashing ride reminiscent of Clint Malarchuk’s 1989 throat-slashing — the first and only image on television that made me actually throw up.
Bleh.
Verily, NBC gave her demonic highness, Ann Coulter, the greatest public relations gift in the history of the human race by banning her for life from their network and all like-minded lefty-linked affiliates. This decision was made in lieu of Coulter’s new book which attacks the media as being a farcical, one-sided (left), pretentious boys club incapable of stomaching any of her ranting diatribes, most of which we learned folks have grown to just call ‘crap’. Strongly suggestive of fecal matter or not, Ms. Coulter is still a US American, one who is astutely literate in the land of fantasy writing and one who has the same exact rights that all of us share in making our voice and our opinions known. Nothing good can come from this. She’s going to run with it ad nauseum and in this case, NBC clearly proved the exact point she’s been trying to make all along.
And it might not make me want to vomit as much as the above, but Pat Burrell is now a Tampa Bay Ray and in doing so virtually shuts the door on my boyhood hero, Ken Griffey, Jr. ever getting another shot in the playoffs. Having shored up their veteran/DH hitting needs, I doubt the Rays will have much interest in Junior now. In my mind, this can only mean he’ll likely end up with that cyclical hell-hole of a franchise known as the Seattle Mariners (for nostalgia’s sake — yack). Sorry, Junior. I really am.
And just as sure as I was that the Democrats’ insatiable desire for unwanted negative attention had already met Biblical proportions, it got worse when Rod Blagojevich appointee and prophetic puppet, Roland Burris, said he was the junior Illinois senator because “the Lord has ordained” him. How come the Lord is always talking to everyone except me?
Maybe he’s been talking to Al Franken too. No matter what, the Minnesota senatorial feud will be nothing short of a long, drawn-out, party-dividing legal and social battle that will only make us hate politicians that much more, if that’s even possible… wait, yeah… yeah it is… because there’s still this guy:
Oh and yeah, there’s also still this guy:
And of course his team is just one passing physical away from putting another ice pick in my chest and signing Milton Bradley to a three-year deal. In essence, the Cubs continue to get better, continue to open their change purse, continue to be savvy in all their dealings.
Note to John Mozeliak: You might want to consider waking the hell up!
And no, Mr. Mozeliak, I do not consider your signing of left-handed bullpen scrub Royce Ring, who finished 2008 with an ERA higher than Method Man and Redman on a Saturday night backstage (his ERA was 8.46), to be a “savvy” move.
(*insert dramatic pause while I take the time to puke… again.)
Ahem.
So what do I do when the world around me crumbles like Amy Winehouse during happy hour?
I tune into the wondrous world that is Red State Blue State…
But, folks, it ain’t always pretty. And it’s painfully obvious to anyone with a remedial math education that whether I’m younger by twelve years or twelve days or twelve hours than my cooped-up colleague, Mr. Allen Krause, I am and always will be younger than he, and more eloquent, and better at baseball. That’s just the hard, undeniable truth.
And yes, just as Mr. Krause stated in his low-blow, I did indeed spend some quality years without a steady girlfriend. This I cannot deny. But to call me out on the transgressions of the past without expecting a wicked rebuttal is quite juvenile.
Alas! Mr. Krause has long been the New York Yankees of meaningful romantic relationships: he was always in one, always spending too much money, always on top (so I hear).
Equally, I have long been the Tampa Bay Rays: never actually in the race, always flirting with free-agent wh0res who weren’t worth the inflated dollars, always on the bottom (cuz that’s just how I roll).
But (and I think we can all see where this is going here) like all facets in the grand scheme of life, balance ultimately plays a most crucial role. And nowadays it’s pretty apparent that I’m on top (with a hot girlfriend) while Mr. Krause wallows in the despair that is not making the “playoffs” for the first time since 1993. Don’t worry, Al, I’m sure they seat parties of one on Valentine’s Day somewhere in the nation’s capital. If not, you can always give Eliot Spitzer a call. I’m sure he knows some “people”.
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Peace,
Jeffy
Fire This Man!!!
I and the rest of Cardinal Nation have had enough of this incompetence!
Another one got away… one we needed desperately, one who could’ve been had were it not for the mental retardation of one John Mozeliak.
And now we are forced to sit back and reserve room at the bottom of the National League Central Division because with the massive, gaping, bloody wound that is the St. Louis Cardinals bullpen throbbing with ineptitude faster than the Illinois legislature moves to impeach a pompous nimrod governor, that’s exactly where we’ll be.
Move on up, Pirates.
We got this taken care of.
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Peace,
Jeffy
P.S. Happy Friggin’ New Year.

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