Tuesday, January 27, 2004

Somebody up in here gonna catch a righteous beat-down, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers

They Keyshawn’d Johnson
Two days after Bucs-dumpee Keyshawn Johnson got held up at gunpoint in Berkeley, he was slapped with a restraining order in Oakland for threatening his ex-wife's ex-boyfriend. What a trip. There were convicts at Alcratraz who had better visits to the Bay Area than Keyshawn.

There are crabs at Fisherman's Wharf who had a better time in the Bay Area than our buddy Keyshawn. And let me please add that it could not have happened to a nicer guy.

Keyshawn’s Oakland visit has sparked rumors that the ever-classy Raiders are going to force Jerry Rice to retire and sign Keyshawn. Good move, whenever possible you should always replace a certain Hall-of-Famer with a certain Hall-of-Shamer.

The World Champion Florida Marlins have sold fewer than 5,000 season tickets for 2004, fewer than the last place Tigers or Brewers. There are actual Marlin fish that have better short-term memory than the Marlins fans.

The Chicago Cubs could sell more than 5,000 tickets to watch foul-ball-flubber Steve Bartman take a righteous beat-down.

Since you asked:
There is only one thing more excruciating than working out on a treadmill, and that’s working out on a treadmill next to somebody who is yammering on a cell phone. I am pretty sure that, when that happened, time actually started to go backwards. When I finally got off, I was thirty minutes younger.

Forget that this woman was spewing into a cell phone directly beneath the sign that said “Go Outside to Use Your Cell Phone” – in fact, if the sign fell down, it would have hit this woman on the head – her conversation was crushingly useless. You never hear anyone on a cell phone say anything of value, like; “Tie off the artery, I’ll be right there.” No, it’s always; “I don’t want Chinese food. Why do you always get to decide what we have?”

Folks, please, never subject captive audiences to your phone conversation, but if you have to, for the love of God, at least make it interesting: “What do you think we should do with her body? No. What you nuts? We can’t dump it there. Well look what happened to Scot Petterson. The Moron was too lazy to dig a hole.”

I bet, after that conversation, the grocery bagger will listen to me when I say I want plastic.