It started out as a Cub blog with cuss words. I'm still cussin'; it's the Cub part I'm a little squishy on these days.

The Sloth is not intended for younger or sensitive readers!

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Bruce, we gave you tha keys, and THIS is what you brought home?

¿Dónde está mi dinero, las rameras?

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Tuesday, October 5

The Anti-Sloth

I've always wondered why I make it a point to read Paige Wiser in the Sun-Times, but wonder no more, because today was the day that I can quit reading her by-line, for she finally wrote the column that defines her as the exact polar opposite of myself, bubble-headed blond bimbette, the Anti-Sloth.

"If you cannot complete watching a sporting event without becoming violently ill, you should take up another hobby. Like movie watching."

Indeed, young lady. I'm sure YOU'VE never sat in the bleachers in a halter top, getting krausened, with your back to the field, chatting with some beer-truck driver named Chip about the Thursday night DJ at Neo.

Girly little twatface.