4/19/2004 09:29:00 AM by Rob

Now, you've done it

An open letter to all you Pollyannas who are bashing my ass for being negative after the Cubs can't manage to get over on the Pirates and Reds, for chrissakes

Listen up, you pre-pubescent little cocksuckers!

It's YOU, not ME, who doesn't know DICK about being a Cub fan! Being a fan isn't putting on you rosy-assed shades, drinking Cub blue Kool-Aid, believing drunks like Ernie Banks, Ron Santo and Bill Murray when they say that this is the best team ever.

Have you been watching the games? Does THIS look like the best team ever, to you?
Shouldn't the Best Team Ever kick the living shit out of left-overs like the Reds and Pirates? Raul Mondesi? Kris Benson? The fucking Corpse of Ken Griffer, Junior? Jason dick-smoking LaRue? The motherfucking Sux kicked DeAngelo Jiminez off their team last year, because he is such a dumbass! This past week, he looks like Ty Fucking Cobb!

I CAN read, and COUNT! I got an MBA, you undereducated tittysuckers!! I know what 12 divided by 162 is. It's not even 10 percent.

But this is America, this is Real Life, not fucking Hollywood. If we can't beat the lesser teams now, Christopher fucking Lloyd isn't going to come down from Disney Heaven to start waving the baseball around like "Angels in the Outfield", and all of a sudden make us a better team.

This isn't a little league team, it isn't like the Cubs are going to improve their skills 300% as the season goes on. This IS your team, like it or not. And I don't like it, and I'm not going to SIT HERE, and lie to you and tell you I do, because YOU'RE a coddled little fuckstick who grew up in some Montessori school and can't deal with anything that resembles criticism.

WAKE UP, you dick-pulling pukes!! This isn't about putting on your no-stress Gap khaki shorts, your tightest Abercrombie t-shirt, and your most curled-up ratty-assed baseball cap and swilling six-dollar beers in the bleachers with your buddies while you take a stab at two night nurses from Illinois Masonic. This is COMPETITION, where you score more runs than the other guys.

Oh, I forgot. When YOU were in Little League, they DIDN'T keep score, because the juice-box-swilling soccer moms in your bucolic little suburb didn't think your pwecious widdle feewings could handle having to lose.

Well, HERE IN THE BIGS, buddy, they win, and they lose, and those that win get the glory, and those that lose end up sitting at home, in October, running their ATV's around their land to see if some stuck-up x-country skiier didn't drop dead last winter in the back 40. I have been watching them lose for 35 years, which is fifteen years before most of you started having solid BMs. I want to see them win for ONCE before I have MY McGrabber, and...

...THIS BUNCH OF swinging from their asses, no-pitch-taking, no-bullpen-stopping, Greg-Maddux-sucking FRUITCAKES ain't winning NOTHING!!

AND GOD FORBID I ask for a trade!!! "No, not yet, this is too small of a sample size...."

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK YOUUUUUU!!! I TEACH STATISTICS, you cum-dribble dweebs! The next guy who throws "small sample size" at me, I'm going to track you down, kick your ass, and smear your DNA all over the fucking pavement!!

Sample size is fine for a market research campaign for vitamin-fortified-chocolate-drink, but by the time the sample size reaches statistical significance, it is going to be too late to catch the AssTrolls, you cum-laden bugger bottoms!

If you want happy, happy all the time, check out Jason at Clark & Addison. Tell him the Sloth sent you, and I'm sure he will welcome you into his little warm nest. Just stop trying to pull the shit-encrusted wool over MY eyes, fucking pansies.

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