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.

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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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Friday, April 8

Turn the other cheek

I'm sure we all had one little smartass in school, who would sit in the front of the room, and correct the teacher's mistakes on the board. He would always have these lame things to say, you know, things with million dollar words like "lummox" and "uncouth" that you didn't understand, but you knew full well they were putdowns. And you couldn't just push your fist through his bespectacled face, a lose-lose proposition if there ever was one. Instead, you'd just get all flustered, veins would pop out of your neck, and you'd mutter something about "how lucky he was that he was a dandruff-covered twerp, and you really didn't want any of his scuzz coming off onto your hands" anyway.

I don't know much. But I know what bullshit is, and last year's performance was bullshit. If the Cubs could have channelled even HALF the effort into their play that they spent on all the unnecessary offseason dogshit, they would have kept track with and rose above the Cardinals.

After three games, nothing new has happened. When all we have to hang our hats on is that Jeromy Burnitz is willing to run into fences, that's a true sign that we are all, all hungry for any type of good news, regardless of how small it is. Hitters are still popping up, dropping down and taking that uppercut swing. Pitchers are still picking the corners, throwing well enough to lose. And, most alarmingly, the guys still INSIST on having the last word on everything, whether it comes from Steve Stone, Chip Caray, other announcers, writers, and most of all, umpires.

Whatever happened to the Good Ol' Days, when ballplayers were to be SEEN and not HEARD? Win some games, play situational baseball, and shut the fuck up!!

STFU, Dude.