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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Saturday, January 29

Hendry, 2 others achieve Sainthood

St. Peter's Basilica, Vatican City: In a stirring ceremony, pontiff Pope John Paul II canonized 3 people to sainthood tonight in front of an overflow crowd of thousands during his weekly address.

The newly canonized saints of the Roman Catholic Church include Father John Todoo Ungallah of the Sudan, who managed to maintain a Dominican order of friars throughout a bloody, 21 year Sudanese civil war in which over 45% of the population of the country lost its life; Sister Mary Ludmilla of Siberia, who under Communist rule under Stalin in the 1930's, ministered to the sick in the Siberian labor camps, and lost her life to the hands of Russian troops as a result; and Jim Hendry, the General Manager of the Chicago Cubs National League Baseball team.

Hendry's ordination was quite controversial, since he is not Catholic and not even deceased. St. Jim, nominated by the Chicago Archdiocese, did however pass every empirical test demanded of Catholic saints, including the verified performance of three miracles.

In 2003, he traded the worthless drunken catcher Todd Hundley, and his enormous contract, to the Dodgers for Eric Karros and Mark Gruzdelanek, both of whom were instrumental to the Cubs coming within 5 outs of a World Series that year. In 2004, he was able to acquire future Hall-of-Fame shortstop Nomar Garciaparra for three loaves and four fishes.

His most recent miracle was literally selling coals to Newcastle. He was able to trade malcontent, clubhouse cancer, steroid shrunken, one-dimensional aging Latin DH Sammy Sosa to Baltimore, a team with nothing but a surplus of one-dimensional aging Latin DHs. A fourth possible miracle, his 2003 trade of Bobby Hill for Aramis Ramirez, is still under consideration.

"I truly am honored," began St. Jim, "to have received Sainthood from Pope John Paul. I understand that this is usually reserved for people who have died. I'm not dead yet, I don't think. I am excited about our prospects for the 2005 season, and I'm still examining further measures to improve our team. We wish Sammy nothing but the best", explained St. Jim magnanimously, "but we are excited by Jerry Hairston Jr's versatility and his ability to bat leadoff for us. We all remember the spark Kenny Lofton gave us in 2003, and we believe Jerry can do the same for us, with a lot less (griping)."

Reaction amongst the Catholic laity is mixed, as is reaction amongst Cub Fandom about the Sosa trade. St. Jim explained, "I am not surprised that some feel we should have gotten more for Sosa. That just proves the age-old adage that Cub fans always have a tendency to over-value our own.

"Season tickets are available now!"


Thursday, January 27

Some real bad news

My father-in-law Pete died today.

He was my favorite father-in-law, which is damning with faint praise. Actually, he was a real nice guy, without an ounce of malice in his whole body. Didn't say much, was real nice to me and my boys, gave us a place to stay while our house was finished, and meant an awful lot to my wife and step-daughter.

He has been battling lung and brain cancer since Christmas 2003, he beat the brain rap but the lung finally got to him today. Its hard to tell just how much suffering he went through, because he wasn't one to complain. He deteriorated rapidly since Sunday, when I saw him last. He was 69 years old.

He smoked for roughly 35 years. He quit 15 years ago, when my wife's first husband dropped dead of a grabber caused by HIS smoking.

If you smoke, consider quitting. My wife and her mom are almost comatose with the shock. Do you want that for YOUR own family?

Anyway, funeral's monday, which means until then, try and fuck as often as you can manage. Fucking is great, beats having to pick out flower arrangements. Yep yep.

Who would YOU do?

Gee, you all can't tell that I'm just bored shitless waiting for SamMe Sosa to get hisself traded.

h yeah, I guess I have always lived my life according to a simple, catchy acronym starting with the letter 'W', one that has done more for me than anything else in terms of shaping my moral fiber. It represents a phrase that keeps me grounded, and always points me to the golden rule.

WWYD - Who Would You Do?

Lindsay Lohan? Puhleeeze, go out on a limb, here. It isn't JUST anyone who would want to do an gorgeous 18-year-old party chick with inflated breastestsses, right?

No, WWYD helps you draw the line between yourself and the chap next to you. Take Chuckosan...please? Now, he would NOT do the Very long, Very lean Keira Knightley. Wants more meat on them bones, and while in principle, I agree, she represents one of the few truly underweight girls on my WWYD list, because she is just so damn pretty. That's just part of the line between myself and Chuck, besides his intense hatred for all things Corey and all things porcine.

Anyway, as Casey Kasem would say, ON TO THE COUNTDOWN: WWYD?

The redhead girl from "Grounded for life"? Yep, I'd do her.
The MOM from "Grounded for Life"? I'd do HER, too.
The mom from the Dr. Pepper commercial, who brings the cooler of goods to all the pre-pubescent boys in the park, with the wind blowing the tail of her blouse? I'd do her.
How about the girl in the other Dr. Pepper commercial, the one that makes her boyfriend buy her manhole covers, then she drags him to yoga, but when she tries to bogart his Doc, he freaks? Ohhh, I'd fuck her like an animal.
98% of beer commercials, I'd do them. Not just the Catfight girls or the Coors Light tweeeeeens, either. There's a Sam Adams commercial where these guys go to "ze House ov Beer" and this blond with a fake German accent hands them a leather-bound book with all the beers listed...oh yeah, I've been bad.
An 800 number for a directory assistance service has this "late-30ish" chick answering the phone, then she ends up in your back seat giving directions...I'd PULL that bitch right over. Yep yep.
The commercials for PetMeds...the blond who gets caught in the traffic jam driving to the vet, and her friend, who just ordered her petmeds over the phone. BOTH HOTT!! Dog style, indeed.
The Applebee's spot with the girl ordering the salad AND the fish AND dessert, and the faggot she's eating with bitching to himself that he isn't a bank...I'd stuff her.
I'd even do the girl in the herpes commercial that wants her "days" back. GREAT eyes!
But Anna Nicole Smith can go fuck HERSELF...guh!

ESPN's Cindy Brunson? Oh yeah, I'd do her.
Suzy Kolber? Of course.
Cara Capuano? Yep. Andrea Joyce? Sure.
Linda Cohn? Ohhhh.....ok. Yes. I'd do her. Especially if she used her "mom' voice on me.
Chris McAllister? NO. En-Oh. No. Sheesh. Get Skeletor the FUCK away from my partz.

Let's see, where was I? WWYD?

Anna Pornikova. Please. Duh.
Maria Sharapova? C'mon. Give me a tough one.
Martina Hingis. Oh, yeah. I'd do her, anyday.
Venus Williams? Sure. I do her.
Serena Williams? Man, that's SOME woman. She could probably tear my ribs away from my chest. I dunno. Ask me later.
Any of the other 25 or so Russian chicks with names like Dementieva and Smashova? Almost to a woman, yes. I'd do them.
Lindsay Davenport? Dunno. Don't think so.
Justine Henin? (see Chris McAllister)
Kim Clijsters? Love them thighs. Yep. I'd do her.

Movies, movies...
Nicole Kidman? On the oftchance that Tom Cruise could have possibly been inside her at one point, NO, I would NOT do her.
Julia Roberts? At this point, no. She JUST had twins.
Renee Zellwiger? Yep, I'd do her, skinny OR fat.

I mean, any one of us would stand in line for a chance at Jessica Biel, Tara Reid or Eliza Dushku, provided we could wear a rubber. (I mean it, Tara).
But what about people like Rachel Griffiths, the wife in "The Rookie"? You'd do her? Gee. So would I!!
Meet the Fockers: Teri Polo? No, I wouldn't.
Spanglish: Tea Leoni? Sure, I would. But I'd really really want to do the Mexican chica...ayy! Caramba!
Angelina Jolie? No-brainer, right? Uhhhh, not so fast, Sparky. I say no.
But I'd have no problem busting a cap on Hilary Swank.

I guess if you really care, submit your suggestions to me, and I'll touch upon them at a later date. For example, if you wanted to know Who I'd Do on "Degrassi, the Next Generation" (Ellie, Ashley, Paige of course, and even Manny), I'll fill you in.

Until then, any links you can find of Sabine, the girl, are greatly appreciated.


Wednesday, January 26

Young stuff alert

Today is a writer's block day. I have so much swirling around in my head (the demise of Charles Martin, infamous Packer bodyslammer; the SunnyTimes and the Trib posting completely conflicting viewpoints about the futures of Sammy Sosa and Maggs Ordonez; the severe butt-whuppin' the Orange Crush laid on Bucky badger; the 37 American soldiers lost today in Iraq, and Dubya's wish for $80 Billion to continue the swindle; and last and certainly least, the return of "Jack and Bobby") that I can't build a straight train of thought. I will, however, follow through with a recommendation made by Jake Potter of Crap Fiesta.

Not all LPGA golfers are Top Position dykes. Young Aussie Q-School qualifier Anna Rawson got herself the same webmaster, it seems, as young ex-poledancer Mrs. Kris Benson. Must be an Anna thang.

Anyway, thanx Jake. Enjoy!

More later, but

Luther Head is THE MAN!!

And the "front row girls" are mediocre slutmeat.

The band-geek girlfriend IS pretty.


Tuesday, January 25

I thought blogging was all about individuality?

Two things about yesterday bugged me.

First, I actually spent time watching tennis. I don't know what the hell I was thinking..?

Look at that azz...Legal tender on April 19th (actually has been legal tender in Mother Russia for some time)

The other problem is that I got sand kicked in my face from a mid-major blogging "celebrity" who happened to stumble in here, and e-mailed me to belittle me for not only making fun of the dumbshit who can't spell, but mainly because I am not political. SPORTS is for children, I guess, and grownups can only talk about politics, sex, and preferably politics WITH sex.

Well, we all know what happens every time I stick even a tip of my fuckin' toe in the political waters:

WARNING: Do NOT take the Uncouth Sloth with food. Do not take if undergoing psychiatric care, or under the influence of oxybase inhibitors. If accidentally ingested, induce vomiting and call Poison Control immediately. Aww, fuck it. Call 9-1-1 anyway, just to be on the safe side

Obviously, I don't do something right in that regard. For everyone who darkens my doorstep comes away knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt how I feel about SamMe Sosa, Mark Prior, Dusty Baker, Jim Hendry and Danny (Fucking) Jackson. Obviously I am clear about things I know. On the other hand, I've never been more mis-construed in my entire life as I was this past fall with the election.

I'm just an overgrown kid, as are most of you. You're grown men, and you read Cubs web sites. I write one, and so do some of you. It's a kids game, the guys run out there wearing double-knit pajamas, throw balls and swing clubs at one another, and fall down in the dirt and get all filthy. (Except for you, Ryno. You were above it all. No offense.)

This IS a blog, Goddammit, and I even have some semblance of sex in it, because I haven't really developed MUCH since I was 14, and from the feedback I get from Carlos Zambrano's Dad and other such luminaries, neither have you.

Cubs, chicks, dumbshits, and the occasional whine about peer pressure and its effect on our youth. Take it, or stick it up yer fuckin' ass!!


Monday, January 24

Things that joggle my mind, Part XVIII

The latest installment of the exploits of dumbasses that depress the Sloth and make him ashamed to be a white human

Please refer, if you can, to this link in today's Trib - subscription required. This is the story of one Joshua Horton, who became the father of quints while laid up in a military hospital, suffering from grave injuries.

You know, it isn't the fact that this man was a member of our armed forces, seemingly headed for Iraq and an uncertain future (as was the case), and he and his missus found it necessary to implant her womb with five fetuses (fetii?) when they ALREADY had two kids. They're Mormons, see, and I guess if I don't want them making fun of us just because our boss doesn't believe in birth control, we can't make fun of them if they want to bring 15 kids each into this rotten world.

No, if she wants to throw a litter, hey, knock yerself out.

What kills me today is the names they gave the little scrappers. Let's see, now:

The one that came home today, Porter, was it? NO, it's Portter.
How about his sisters, Cora and Caitlyn? No, add MORE letters, too: Caitlynn and Coira.
How about his surviving brother: Lachlan? WTF is a Lachlan?
His poor departed sister, was she named after one of our favorite streets, Addison? No, try Addyson.

So, except for the poor little thing that didn't make it, the other four kids are saddle with these dumfuck names, destined to catch hell from their kindergarten teacher. "No, CORA, you're spelling your own name wrong!! What's the matter with you, you dumbschit?"

So, tell me, who's the miserable, stupid, misguided shitstain who foisted these names on these poor little babies?

Maybe their mom, Tuanacy? WTlivingF? Is this supposed to be "truancy"? Were her parents always skipping school? Must have been, for these fuckers sure as shit can't spell.

From disappointment, then what?

Today's mystery word is: disappointment.

We're all familiar with the concept. It seems to be an ingrained concept with the Cubs. I need not restate the litany working back from the Whiners of 2004, Bartman, etcetra, etcetera, etceterrrra.

Let me get this off my chest. First of all, for those of you who I wanted to sit and drink with at Kitty O'Shea's this weekend, I am disappointed that I couldn't make it either night. I do have a spouse who cares about me enough to not want to see me die in a car wreck, so I didn't have the stones to venture into the blizzard either night. There IS a foot of snow outside my office this morning, even though we only got an inch in Corn Hole. It really SUCKED to see the weather warnings even though there was NOTHING happening by my casa.

I probably did the right thing, though.

At left, we see another disappointment, the Great Big Swollen Sammy Sosa. This picture is from the 2001 Home Run Derby, I believe, the very height of his roid rage. Do you remember the scene? Everyone else was lying in foul territory, slapping five, relaxing. El Jefe was in the tunnel to the clubhouse, pacing like a caged beast, splashing cups of water in his face, like a fucking Three Stooge? Then he went out and belted about 15 shots off of the facade of Heaven, and went on to perhaps his best season?

Everybody knows I've been calling this creep a sideshow fraud for years now, so all everyone wanted to ask me today is: Did I hear about Sammy being booed at CubsFest?

Yes, I did. What did I think?

It would be disingenious of me to say anything other than I am PROUD of you people who DID go there and shout your lungs out every time his big fat face was shown on the screen. Whether you think most of the attendees are social misfits, one step above Trekkies, or not, these people Love the Cubs, they paid their money, and they came out and booed the piss out of this guy.


...and you knew this was coming, for what am I if not the contrarian? You wonder sometimes, when a end has been reached, if the means to the end were proper? Are these people booing because they truly saw for themselves what a disappointment he is as a bread-winning, back-carrying captain of the team? Or, are these people booing because the Mother Fucking TRIBUNE says so? Because the parent mouthpiece of the Cubs organization has done everything they can in the last winter to discredit the man. If the paper would have just left him alone this winter, would you all have come to the same conclusion? That of BOO?

At this point in time, less than a month before Pitchers-n-Catchers report, I have a new worry. I try to stay a step ahead in my angst, you know. What's my new worry? Simple.

It looks like Sosa is a Cub in 2005. How do we keep him without fucking up the rest of the team? Is it possible? Everyone from Pegleg Santo to Todd Godfearing Walker keeps playing the Apology Card. Well, I got news, people. THAT DOG AIN'T GONNA HUNT!!

First of all, Sosa CAN'T issue a heartfelt apology...repentance takes humility, which he has none.

Next, what is he apologizing for? For leaving a game early, a game that meant nothing? That's the least of his transgressions. I could give a dogshit less about that day. What about the fact that he has been declining steadily since 2002, and rather than listening to management, and adjusting his game, and working with the team concept, he's done it HIS way, every day, every at-bat, to the detriment of the club?

Three years of fuck-ups. How do you apologize for THAT, in one sitting? Not even Mother Theresa could pull that one off.

Just HOW is he going to fit in, now that we're pretty much stuck with his sagging ass?


Friday, January 21

Open letter to my eldest son

Dear Mr. Man,

I know you are less than happy with me lately. I realize this is typical for most 16 year old boys who think they're real men. I shouldn't be surprised about any of it, but, son, you can tell yourself to be prepared for your kids to grow up, and I've found that it doesn't get any easier. I've had a hard time talking to you lately, and this has been hard for me, because I've always been able to talk to you. Your brother, Mr. JapCrap, not so much. But you always seemed to understand.

Every time I try to reason with you, though, THIS is the look I get from you. (Drew, this is what I am talking about. Look at that face? Look at those lips? Isn't that just the gay-est thing you've ever seen? I never saw you look anything like that with your grimy little Felicia).

To fill the rest of my readers in, I've had to snip his dick down a bit, because he had a bad report card. In the interests of complete disclosure, he got two B's. I'm sure some of you knuckle-draggers out there are now holding the sides of your thick, scarred craniums in disgust at me.

What you have to understand, people, is THIS is one smart, ought to be doing one hell of a lot better kid. All I've asked him to do is to SHOW ME that he works hard in school. "Well, my grades should show that". Not necessarily, big guy. It would have gone down a lot better if we could see that you were bringing your work home, studying, asking us for help with memorizations, instead of sitting on your computer all night typing nasty suggestions to girls across Northern Illinois, or running around town every day trying to mooch free quesadillas-n-fries from the locals.

Before you pack your things and shove off to some school in two years, I need to know that you've been listening to me about being able to work hard, give your best effort, and being able to get out of a jam by working through it, not licking the private parts of whoever is hassling you. After a while, son, what you do is your own business, and probably you'll be better at it than I am. But it's my job to try to at least introduce you to the concept of a work ethic. When all else fails, son, hard work usually is the best policy.

If I didn't care about you, I'd just sit back and let your girlfriend do your homework. Your teachers don't seem to care. But they're not going to be there the first time you hit bottom, it will be just me.


Your Daddycakes

Ps. who the fuck NEEDS the Kubs Konvention? Look at all this shit. Every day is CubsFest in SlothWorld.


Thursday, January 20

Et tu, Ryno?

Dude, I would have gone gay for you in the '80s.

Now you just look like an old guy, trying too hard to look hip. TAKE OFF THE DAMN RUBBER BAND!!

News from the Kubs Karavan

Since time immemorial, the Cubs (since they are nothing if not fan-friendly) have set up two or three separate teams of their employees, and set them adrift throughout Greater Cub Fandom as the Cubs Caravan. These days, since the formation of the Cubs Convention, the Caravan functions as would ants bringing food back to the anthole, or perhaps Mardi Gras in Louisiana. The teams start out in the sticks (like Rockford, Kankakee and Joliet) a few days before the convention, and work their way towards Chicago, culminating in the big opening on Friday.

Back in the day, this was a great deal for both fan and player. The player got some xtra spending cash, and got some free food-n-booze from the local organization hosting the caravan at the time. The fan, such as myself, got to see real-life legends such as Ernie Banks completely TREED right there in their local VFW halls. Why, I still have my pic, right here beside me, of Mr. motherfucking Cub himself imploring me to continue to hit the books in 1977, while he himself couldn't even keep his own snot in his own nose, he was so Wild Turkeyed.

Good times!

These days, since there IS the Convention, and since the players and coaches already make more money than God, and since there is nothing but a glut of radio, TV, newsprint, and internet coverage of every move these fucksticks make, it isn't such a great deal. Compound THAT with what we will (charitably) call Jim Hendry's "caution" in making any moves to improve us this year, and what you had yesterday was a dog-humping feeding frenzy, and Dusty Baker was the roadkill.

Well, he managed to just about entirely say the absolutely wrongest stuff every time he opened his trap. He thinks that all LaTroy Hawkins lacked last year was "experience as closer", and if the season started today, he's STILL gonna run his big ass out there every ninth inning.

If I were Z, Wood, Prior and Maddux, I'd be getting myself fitted for collar braces right now, because they can't EVEN allow themselves to look back at the bullpen this year. Go nine, or go home, stud muffins. Don't walk no-one.

He thinks Shin Boy will make a helluva left fielder, and Corey a helluva leadoff man. You know, I'll let Chuck handle the last one. He's been ruthlessly trying to corner the market on Corey Hatred for some time, now. It's a bad idea, as is Hollandsworth as starter, and I'll let it go at that.

But then he gets to the piece de resistance, and for once, maybe he did do something right. He refused to rip Sammy Sosa, opting instead to rip the 'clubhouse snitches' who told the media that SamMe played hooky last year.

If you want the man traded, which Dusty must pray for morning, noon, and night, don't go running the man down in the press. He's smart enough to realize that. So it really bothers me to see that he ISN'T smart enough to realize that the 'snitches' who let the Sosa cat out of the bag are HIS OWN EMPLOYERS!!

The Tribune smeared Sosa's name in print before his first big contract in 1997 (who let it be known that he was talking to Boston), smeared it yet again in 2000 (who let it be known that he was trying to engineer a trade to the Steingrabbers) and who pointed out to one and all that Sosa was caught on survelliance cameras leaving last year? I mean, Bruce Miles (Daily Herald) didn't even KNOW the Cubs HAD survelliance cameras.

So is Dusty so stupid that he can't see this? Or is he trying to pit himself and his team against his bosses, in a "Major League"-esque attempt to play "us vs. them" to the hilt? I have to assume the latter, to be honest. Dusty seems to understand the psyche of today's ballplayer, even if he doesn't understand how to handle a bullpen, or how to move a runner along with less than two outs.

I was hoping beyond hope that the big swollen ape would be gone by now, but it looks like the big news for Convention 2005 will be the usual and customary signings of the arbitration eligibles, and hope that the masses swallow it up.

Like I said before, wake me when something INTERESTING happens. ZZzzzzz...


Wednesday, January 19

Let's all line up to be shorn

Sheep, we're no better than sheep, I'm telling ya. Let somebody like Sheryl Crow (or better yet, Lindsay Lohan) come out wearing a varnished turd on their lapel, and next thing you know, kids everywhere are bugging their parents on where THEY can go to buy their very own varnished turd broach.

I do believe in the Golden Rule, do unto others as you would have them do unto you. That being said, I am not an overly charitable person. I have been in trouble, and I did not look for charity to bail me out, and it isn't like my family couldn't use every spare dime I make.

I am glad for the cancer foundations being helped by the Lance Armstrong LiveStrong bracelet craze, but wouldn't you know it? Now every single solitary "cause" has their own bracelet, in their own colors, and this is also true for the Cause to Maximize Tribune Corporation Profits, with their Cubby Blue "Believe" fashion accessory.

UPDATE: as Stew very carefully pointed out, the revenues from the blue rubberbands goes to Cubs Care, according to their website. And, also, the Cubs suffer from some of the lowest local radio and TV revenues in the whole league.

I have to admit to you, when I first saw the bracelets, I mean, the very moment I first heard about them, thoughts ran through my head. "Those are UGG-lee!" and "I guess it's a good idea" were amongst them. Never, never, ever does it ever occur to me to ever think "Well, how can I PIMP this idea for my own personal gain". At some point, I do start thinking "well, SOMEBODY is going to pimp this". Because people are sheep, and always follow the leaders, the trend-setters, and these days, it only takes 6 months or so for an idea to be born, grow, mature, and finally become passe.

I know this, you know this, and maybe you're like me, in that you just sit by and watch it happen. Eventually, your own kids are tugging on your sleeve, asking you to start going to Walgreens, or whatever, to get them their very own yellow rubber bracelet. And you know your kid doesn't understand WHATSOEVER its purpose. And you know that six months from now, this same rubber bracelet is going to get caught in your vacuum cleaner, as you take a swipe with it under your kids' bed.

Maybe you watch this all happen, and maybe you, instead, start immediately thinking on how YOU can work your own angle, how you can pimp out the fad for your own profit. Call yourself an entrepreneur, an opportunist, a pimp, a crook. Whatever.

If I live to be 100, I will NEVER, EVER understand what makes these people tick. Why does everything nice, and noble have to be turned ugly with greed?

In that same token, I guess I will never ever understand the motivations of an enterprise such as the Tribune, for whom good, healthy competition takes a back seat to PROFIT.

Steinbrenner, Moreno, and Angelos are trying to buy a pennant. Billy Beane and Theo Epstein are trying to eke one out on their spreadsheets. Other teams send out teams of scouts to try to outsmart the competition. Teams like Milwaukee, the Sux and Kansas City have publicly given up, and cry poor to everyone that will listen.

But the Cubs, more so than any other team in the 30, are best described as a Profit Center. Our All-Stars are their marketing fucks, our Hall-of-Famers are mostly our announcers. We've been fished in, hauled ashore, and left to flop on the deck, gasping for the last breath of air with gills ill-designed for the situation.

Fuck the outfield...let's get the God-damned blue bracelets out there, before the kids stop wearing them!!!


Tuesday, January 18

I'm so excited about this years....zzzzz......

Wake me when it's over, okay? If nothing is going to happen this offseason, Lord, let me go camping, fishing, let me work on something in the basement, anything but wasting my time watching YET another Cub team squander great riches on the road to mediocrity.

Most legitimate sources are reporting that the Cubs are still talking to certain teams about Sosa, but nothing concrete to report. There is no plan to replace Alou in left, or to get somebody from the outside to close games.

Adam a/k/a Socherball over at the Coven DID make a good point today: how can you bitch about the Cubs never developing any positional talent out of one side of your mouth, and complain about their lack of activity in rebuilding the outfield out of the other? For, Soch reasons, shouldn't Jason DuBois have the chance to man left field?

I guess that's true. If this was a normal team, if these were normal circumstances, I would welcome the opportunity to see one of our own grow into the position. So, what's my problem?

1) We haven't developed a great power hitter since Raffy Palmiero.

2) This is NOT a normal year. Hendry has assembled a critical mass of veteran late-twenties, early thirties ballplayers to go along with some of the best young pitching ever assembled. Oh, and of course, Sosa. This is a Win-Or-Else season, this team isn't and shouldn't be built for the future.

3) That having been said, Dusty Baker is NEVER going to trust LF to a rookie. Barring trade and barring an inability to remember to wear his fucking shin guard at the plate, Todd Hollandsworth is slated to get the bulk of ABs in left.

Now, Todd's a hitter. He's a big-game pinch hitter. He can wear my team's shirt anytime. When put in a lineup, he starts out hot. Then he tails off. He's the white Glenallen Hill, and nothing, NOTHING, will ever change my opinion of him.

And no Cub team is ever going to win a pennant with Glenallen in left, regardless of his color. I can probably find stats on his first 50 ABs as a starter with the Dodgers, with the Rocks, with Florida, with us. Probably a .330/.400/.550 guy. The next 100 ABs? .240/.320/.400. Then, he invariably hurts himself.

Fearless prediction Number 2005-07a

If Hollandsworth gets over 250 ABs for us next year, we are in deep trouble.

Fearless prediction Number 2005-07b

If Hollandsworth and Perez combine for more than 400 ABs in 2005, we will finish BEHIND one of the following: Battlin' Buccos, Brew Crew, or the Perpetually Injured Reds.


Monday, January 17

Corrections department

Remember when I said that Hilary Swank is lucky that Keira Knightley was born ten years too late: otherwise; Keira would have ALL of her roles, and Hilary would be showing real estate for a living?

Daaaamn...look at them abs------>

Well, I was wrong. Seems that she certainly CAN act. She already has a "Best Supporting Actress" Oscar, and is probably going to pull down just a straight "Best Actress" for her role as poor white trash turned chick boxer in the latest Clint Eastwood flick.

Sorry, Hilary. I'll shut up now.


Ode to a frustrating weekend

added to the left: Byron's Cubdom - one of the Unholy Goatriders of the Apocalypse

First of all, I'd like to dedicate my verbiage today to a Carol A. Ries, of Adrian, Michigan. Her story appears below:

ADRIAN, Mich. -- A woman who admitted drinking three glasses of Listerine mouthwash had a blood-alcohol content more than three times the legal limit when she was arrested for drunken driving, police said Friday. The woman, identified as 50-year-old Carol A. Ries, was arrested Sunday night and released on personal bond the next day. She was to be arraigned late next week on a misdemeanor charge of operating under the influence of liquor.

Police found an open bottle of Listerine in Ries' car, and asked Lenawee County prosecutors Friday to authorize a warrant charging her with having an open intoxicant in a motor vehicle. Ries showed signs of intoxication after her car rear-ended another vehicle Sunday. She told police she had not consumed any alcohol and also passed a Breathalyzer test, but "there was something not quite right about her," the arresting officer said.

She failed a second test using different equipment and, under further questioning, admitted to drinking three glasses of Listerine earlier in the day. According to Listerine manufacturer Pfizer Inc.'s Web site, original formula Listerine contains 26.9 percent alcohol, more than four times that of many malt liquors. Other varieties contain 21.6 percent alcohol.

No telephone listings for a Carol Ries could be found.

Oh, my lord!!! It's "carlosZno1fan"!! No, seriously, I can't even standing swishing with that shit for 30 seconds, let alone down three glasses of it! Carol, whereever you are, you're much more of a man than myself, dear. Truly, you are the poster child for American Ingenuity. If any of you out there knows Carol, buy her a REAL drink, and send me the bill. Then, take her goddamned keys!

Well, I found the lack of Cubs news this weekend to be truly frustrating. But now, that the Sux Konvention has left town (see left), and the Cubs Convention is coming right after it, this bodes well for us fans who have been waiting for Hendry to rouse from his egg-nog-n-oxycontin induced coma, and DO SOMETHING!!!

They couldn't HAVE the Kubs Konvention unless they make a splash by doing at least ONE of the following:

1) Trade the Great Sosa
2) Sign the Great Magglio
3) Acquire a closer whose name we all recognize

Remember you ol' Uncle Slothy...I'm the guy who told you that the Beltran fiasco would end last weekend. Something WILL happen this week. When it does, take to the streets, light an illegal roman candle, and raise your arms in triumph, for Hendry lives, he LIVES!!



Friday, January 14

NFL picks, and the steroid policy

My eighth grade English teacher told me never to mix metaphors. Or something like that. But I'm talking about a league full of musclehead HGH freaks hell-bent on violence. And not just MLB, but the NFL, too.

Just bear in mind that I would be a much thinner and poorer man if I had to depend on my handicapping skills for a living.

ViQueens - Eagles:

I don't play spreads; besides, didn't some ungodly percentage, like 78%, of underdogs win outright this year? For those of you who have branded me a Liberal, just because I wouldn't go spill my blood for Dick Chaney's Halliburton stockholders, here's some Conservative advice: never pick a Dog unless you think they will win outright.

That being said, I think God is a merciful God. After the tsunamis, the mudslides, and the Moon over Green Bay, I think God will give us a break, and bounce the True Scourge of the Earth, Randy Moss, from the playoffs.

Eagles 35, ViQueens 24

Falcons - Rams:

You've heard people refer to somebody as "The Comedian's Comedian", or "The Musician's Musician"? Someone who really sucks, sells no records, has no box office, but "the people in the know" just love him?

That's Michael Vick. I just don't get it. Perhaps he can do things that other NFL atheletes are jealous over. But just how much worse of a job would Antwaan Randle El have done if he were drafted by a dome team?

Rams 27, Falcons 24

Steelers - Jets:

For those of you who have missed seeing a grown man shit his pants on national TV since the time LaTroy Hawkins gave up the homers in Shea, get aload of Chad Pennington this week, with 7 bazillion guys from Pissburgh in the stands screaming insults with their fucked-up East Coast/Appalachian accent.

When it's below zero, the running game rules, and I know Curtis Martin plays for the Jets, but the Stillers have both the Bus and the Duce, and in a taffy pull, I'd rather pull for the two guys, rather than the one guy.

Stillers 17, J-E-T-S Jets Jets Jets 10

Colts - Pats

After the Shaq-Kobe game, the Brazil-Germany World Cup, and the Kelly Jo-Estella Bachelor final, the Game of the New Millenium, by far. Oh, I suppose throw Game 7 of last year's ALCS in there, too.

Just one question, in all seriousness? Is it true that the Patriots have won two of the last three Super Bowls, and is it also true that Peyton Manning has won exactly zero, zip, nada AFC championships in his life? There's a first time for everything? Oh yeah, when was the first time the Cubs won the NLCS?

As in everything in life, don't try to overthink this one.

Pats 24, Colts 21.

The steroid Policy

Hey, buddy. I never take the steroid, buddy. I just take the keeds' flintstones, pal. I work hard, buddy. I apologi for nothing, and I not worry about the new testing, buddy. Ten days? Ten days is nothing, buddy. I'd just stay home with my wife, and drink wine. Then I come back out and hit homrun, buddy.


Thursday, January 13


I have to do this. I just have to.

I know this is probably going to put the whammy on my boys. For those of you who know me well enough (I can't remember if I have this on my info page) my second favorite sports team is the University of Illinois Fighting Illini basketball. During my time there, I did not attend a single, solitary football game, or any other type of game.

I never missed a basketball game. My seats were usually shitty, once in a great while I would get the chance to scoop up someone else's 'A' section seats. But I stood in line overnight, etc. for these guys. They've been pretty consistent since the early 80's, under Lou Henson, Lon Krueger, Bill Selfish, and now Bruce Weber.

Weber, the beneficiary of some of Selfish's recruiting, has lucked himself into a number 1 ballclub. In college, guards rule, and we have three of the best. Dee Brown, Luther Head, and Deron Williams just keep firing the treys. They're not killing themselves, trying to run a full-court press or a driving, fast break offense. The Illini's style is to pick you up at half court, and deny EVERY last pass. You'd hate playing the Illini. Up top, they're all over your ass, and if you are fortunate enough to get the ball down low, you figure that they've gambled on defense and you've beat them to the hole for some EZ pickin's. No dice...they get back and swarm your ass down there, too.

In the past, even some of their least teams have had stretches of brilliance that they've shown this year, but there was always, ALWAYS a letup, usually in the tournament. Austin Peay, anyone? Alabama's Latrell Spreewell always speaks kindly of the Illini. But this year, so far, they haven't called off the dogs once. Now, they haven't taken their usual annual fucking in Iowa City, nor have they been to Madison yet, another hotspot that all Illini fans regard less than fondly. But they HAVE stopped at the Beef House, gone to Purdue and spanked their ass.

The topic on the local radio seems to go like this: Should they lose? Is it an advantage to go into the NCAA tourney as unbeatens, or would it be better if they had lost a game (or two), and then address any needed corrections? What do YOU think about it? I find it an interesting theory. The practical side of me says that the occassional setback keeps you humble, and grounded, and keeps you working hard.

Of course, the arrogant side says fuck 'em all and feed 'em fishheads. Why not do a Duke, a UNLV, a Wooden-era UCLA? Undefeated puts Illinois on the map, the important map, not the fucking red-n-blue one that elects presidents, but the important sports map that all the droning morons in Noo Yawk have to look at.



Wednesday, January 12

In lieu of actual Cubs news:

Let's instead look at Scarlett Johansson, currently seen in the Dennis Quaid flick "In Good Company". She gets it on with Topher Grace, as if somebody named Topher would actually make it with a girl.

She's 20, gorgeous enough to eat, basically meeting or exceeding all requirements of the All Majestic List. Yum.

Okay, I understand pitchers-n-catchers don't report for another 6 weeks, but I'm clinging mighty tough to my faith in Jim Hendry. Surely HE doesn't think Hollandsworth-Corey-SamMe is a satisfactory outfield, and certainly HE doesn't think Dusty is actually going to give DuBois a chance?

Andy Desipio floated a bouncy one out there today, suggesting a menage-a-trois with SamMe going to Los Mets, Mike Cameron and his magic glove going to the Billy Beanes, with us kicking over some ca$h to Oakland, and they return us Octavio Dotel. What's the problem with this?

I thought Beane loved cheap guys who throw strikes, and isn't that what Dotel is?

Anyway, suppose this did happen. Then you have a big ol' stackup in the pen. You got the Dumpster and JoeBlow and LaTroy and Farns and Remlinger and the couple of young cheap guys you want, and then you throw Dotel in the mix. Assuming we aren't trading the young, cheap guys, the only tradeable commodity in the whole stew is The Farns, who's so dumb, he's gonna miss the start of spring training with a eye strain caused by his staring at a frozen can of strawberry daquiri mixer for 17 hours.

Seems the can said "concentrate", and Farns was willing to oblige.

AH, I kill me.

Just's an odd number year. Farns is due for one of his good ones. They'll most certainly trade him, and watch him dominate for the entire year, and hundreds of millions of lemmings will crawl out from under the baseboards, damning Hendry to all hell for trading the Farns.

Not me. I'll know better, and I'll sit back and rub my big fat manboobs in glee when Farns implodes again in 2006, after someone gives him $14 million.


Tuesday, January 11

Meanwhile, at Ellen Degenerate's House....

Many of you don't even realize that I am a sociologist, with grants funding several studies, unsurprisingly of sexual content. For example, a three-year study of girls and women attending small Catholic colleges in Northern Illinois has led to the formation of Sloth's Theory The Twelfth: The reason why so many of us guys suffer from Acute Sexual Depravation, is because them girls are keeping it all to themselves.

For example, Ellen DeGeneres is now bagging HER, Portia De Rossi, of "Arrested Development" and "Ally McBeal" fame.

Man....what a waste. I mean, if she's gonna bat for the other team, at least she could have hooked up with someone cuter. Like, I wouldn't watch Portia munch Ellen's rug...gag!

I'd watch Portia and Melissa Etheridge wrestle. I'd even be able to tolerate it if Portia was able to convince Anne Heche to return to switch hitting. Now, Portia De Rossi and Drea Di Olive Oil...That's Italian!! Not that Drea leans that way or nothing, but imagine the revenues for a Pay Per View...


Monday, January 10

Trying to take care of my own

Carlos Zambrano's Dad asked for it, and it can be characterized as "timely" considering last night's blockbuster "24" season opener.

CZD wanted some "redhead or blond" action, wearing white cotton panties, petite yet old enough to buy a drink.

OK dokey, here's Kim Bauer herownself, Elisha Cuthbert, charter member of the All Majestic-Five...

Just trying to take our minds off of Carlos Beltran, Mutt.

The One that Got Away

Let's use a technique that they use at every decent court-order Anger Management course:

Let's tally up the plusses and minuses of Carlos Beltran becoming a Mutt:


- The AssTrolls are done. D-U-N. Fat Roger will now retire for good, Andy Pettitty will now miss his butt buddy, the AssTroll outfield is now the rotting corpse of Craig Biggio and Fat Elvis, and most importantly, the rest of the players now know that their management isn't behind them. Rot In Pieces, gentlemen.

- I was the one who said a couple of months ago that the Cubs could sign Beltran AND Drew AND Maggs AND Pedro AND Superman AND Batman, and it all wouldn't make a lick of difference if the overall #1 problem wasn't addressed, and this is still true today.

- Being the starving, desperate Cub fan that I am, I would pay, overpay, and way overpay Beltran if I knew in my bones that he was the missing link. Which I do. But even I have to admit, $117 Milldo for 7 long years....THAT'S a lot of scratch.


- We don't have Carlos Beltran. A man who hits Wrigley like the big kid down the street hits his own gangway in Whiffleball. If we had him, it wouldn't be fair, it wouldn't be right, and we could just do a Randy Moss on the rest of the NL.

By the way: to Joe Buck and the Moral Majority who are falling all over each other to be the First to denounce Moss for taking a virtual shit in the endzone at Lambeau: Look. I thought it was distasteful, too. But I laughed. And isn't THAT better than getting my blood pressure up, shooting steam out my anus, and banging on the pulpit how disgusting it all was? Lighten up, Francis.

- We're stuck with Sammy Sosa, most likely. The Mutts don't need him now. Do they? How in hell does Hendry even think he is going to fit in next year? There's no WAY he ever shows his face in that Clubhouse again. He has lost the respect of every last swinging dick in the place.

- Once again, Cub management shows that they don't have the stones to run with the big dogs. Oh, let's get a second-tier outfielder, and a second rate closer, and let's pair them up with Sam-Me, and hope that he comes back in all his glory, even though he's shrunk up more than Caminiti's nutts?

Meet the new boss, same as the old boss. Go, Cubbies.


Thursday, January 6

Hang tough

Please. Refer to yesterday's posting.

The Tribune reports that the Cubs are "dead last" in the Beltran negotiations. Various Noo Yawk papers are already claiming that Beltran is a Mutt. Andy Dolan, normally the voice of reason on Desipio sounds like he wants to jump out of the window because of Hendry's deep heel-dragging.

I'm TRYING to remain calm and reasonable about this, and all I can cling to here is: this involves Scott Boras. BELIEVE NOTHING! Until they actually have the press conference and Carlos and his wife are standing up there muttering in pidgin English that they love it here in (name your large market)...until then, believe nothing you hear, nothing you read and only part of what you see.

Hendry got rid of the Turd, He brought Maddux home, he got Nomar...he ain't gonna let us down...right? Right? Is he? No way, right?


Wednesday, January 5

What to believe about the Carlos Beltran negotiations

Apparently, nothing.

One local paper says the Cubs have made an offer. The other says they haven't, and in fact, the notion of ever making him a Cub is dead. ESPN quotes The Evil Agent Bore-ass as saying "that all teams in the running have made (some kind of) offer." Presumably, whenever anyone talks about Teams In The Running, the Cubs would be amongst them. Ergo, the Cubs made an offer.

One source says the Mutts offered $121M. Another, $119M. Yet another, "around $100M".

Please keep in mind, Boras is the Minister of Misinformation. As all true forces of Evil are, he thrives on chaos, and actively fosters disorder. How else did he force the Rangers to bid AGAINST THEMSELVES for A-Wad a few years back? He has lied, falsified, misled, fibbed, and just plain spit shit in this regard, and thus it is impossible to actually follow progress just by reading papers, watching SportsCenter, or any other means known to mere mortal men. So, who knows WHAT the fuck the Cubs are doing about the current Best Free Agent in Baseball?

The Johnny-cum-latelys among us sleep soundly, confident in the knowledge that their Hero, Jim Hendry, will get the job done, and provide us with an outfield we all can be proud of. However, the twisted grizzled vets just assume that this incident will play out like the Rolen sweepstakes, the Piazza deal, etc., with the Management in the ivory tower making a token offer just to appease us.

Me? I think they're going to go hard for him. I hope they realize, as I do, that their biggest competition is Houston, not the Mutts, therefore they will need to act quickly, since Houston's deadline for signing their current free agent is THIS Saturday.

Yes, thank God, the Beltran Sweepstakes will be DONE this weekend. We can then go on with the rest of our lives....


Tuesday, January 4

Hey, Joe Morgan?

Ryno's in the hall!!! You're no longer the best second baseman in there, you fucking shit-licking toad!

Chew the shit out of all of our arses, lick 'em clean, and then suck your own man-tits, you chicken-flappin' pudsmoker! I never EVER want to hear you, see you, or smell you again....

Why the silence?

My all-time favorite baseball player is on the ballot for the Hall-of-Fame voting, and considering he got screwed over the first two years he was eligible, I'm fully expecting the worst.

One way, or another, I'll have more to day this afternoon.

Keep your fingers crossed...


Monday, January 3

East Coast Hall Of Fame Voting

I believe that sometime this week, tomorrow maybe, Ryne Sandberg, Andre Dawson, and others of their ilk will have the ringers on their cellies turned up x-tra loud so they don't miss the call from Cooperstown, informing them whether they've made the grade, or come up short again.

I really wish Sandberg hadn't had Barry Rozner write him a book which states that he would never, ever come back to baseball, then come back a year later. It would have been poetic if he could have just stayed retired. Some may point out that his 1994 year was worse than dismal, which scrubs the "going out on top" argument.

Yeah, but, he was the highest paid player in the game as he was walking away. He left over $20M on the table when he walked. THERE's your poetic falling upon the sword, there's your grace. In that case, he WAS going out on top. Unquestionably, Hall-Of-Famer.

But he fucked THAT up, and for a man who certainly deserves to be in there by now, here's to waiting another year.

Then again, there are a couple of other guys who even have more beef than Ryno. Goose Gossage was a he-man stud hoss, and when he came in to pitch against you, all hope was gone. When I watched him, I felt in every fiber of my being that I was watching Greatness. Hall-Of-Famer.

I think Tommy John, in his own way, has contibuted far more to the game than just his pitching stats. Here was a man who was done, D-U-N, and they invented a surgery, just for him, that allowed doctors to carefully pull the dinner fork out of his back, and send him back out there for a wonderful second-chance career. 100 years from now, people will still speak of Tommy John. Hall-Of-Famer.

Now we have the case of Andre Dawson, whose stats pale in comparison to the Anabolic Age, and the Astroturf stadiums of the 1980's brutally robbed him of a certain percentage of his abilities. Naturally, anyone who paid attention in 1987 saw him literally carry an entire team on his back, even MORE impressively than SamMe did in 1998 and 2001. But not all of his years were comparable, his performance in the 1989 playoffs was both disappointing and sad, and in the end, they practically had to drag him off of the field.

But, good Lord, nobody tried harder, fought harder, or gave more than the Hawk. It's gonna be a tough sell for him throughout the process, which isn't fair, much like his injury-ravaged career. I'd vote for him if given a chance.