The Uncouth Sloth - born 2002, died 2006. R.I.P.

10/27/2005 02:28:00 PM by Rob

This just happened...

This is what a blog is all about, isn't it?

As a couple of friends of mine and I were leaving our local pizza pub establishment after lunch, this, um, dude was stumbling towards us.

He was shuffling along, kind of the wasted "homeless" shuffle, except although he looked really bad, he didn't look homeless. He wasn't wearing, like, a dirty torn coat over a dirty windbreaker over a dirty hoodie. He was wearing a shirt like the one on the left. He was average size, puffy, dark curly hair turning gray, and I guess, he had a mullet, or as close to one as a curly assed Italo-Greek kinda guy could grow. He hadn't shaved, and as I said, he was wasted, or something.

We saw him coming from about six cars down, as we tried to undertake evasive action. We moved aside, but he slowly shuffled towards us, then we each took five steps to the right, and he changed direction again, so he ended up smacking his fat face RIGHT INTO one of the beautiful shiny pleather sleeves of my brand new Cubs varsity jacket.

Yeah, I kept it ree-uhl today, but as I have said, today's a day to be gracious, and I didn't want to engage. But this guy bellowed at me to "whuch wurra gong".

What? "Whuch werrya gongg".

Dude, I tried, you bumped into me. "Um gunna kickya inna crack. Fuggin CUBS!"

You're going to kick me in my crack? What the hell, let's watch him try. Ok, man, it's on.

So we watched him stumble his way around me, in order to get at my backside. Between my enormous girth and his glacial pace, it took him about six minutes. In the meantime, I had plenty of time to pose a defensive posture, but I didn't wanna spoil all the fun.

Finally, he corkscrews around like Paul Edinger, and swings a wild kick that misses my ass by about a yard. Of course, he falls in a heap, right in back of my car, so I have to wait for him to get up before I can back out to go back to work. Dude, go in and get yourself some coffee, and call your wife, mom, warden, whatever to get you home.

10/27/2005 08:42:00 AM by Rob

First of all, of primary importance to me & Carlos Zambrano's Dad

GUESS which little redheaded jailbait queen stars on a weekly sitcom called "Still Standing" on Wednesdays, 8/7 Central on CBS?

It doesn't look to be all that funny, so catch her while you can, CZ's Dad...

UPDATE: Renee Olstead's television credits include the series "She Spies," "My Guide to Becoming a Rock Star," "Reunited," "Out There," "Providence" and, on CBS, "Touched by an Angel." She has also appeared in the mini-series "Larry McMurtry's Streets of Laredo," and in the television movies "Geppetto" and "Deadly Family Secrets."

As a singer, she has released a self-titled CD. Her live performances have included appearances with Billy Joel, Elton John and Celine Dion.

Her feature film credits include "13 Going on 30," "Space Cowboys," "End of Days" and "The Insider."

Olstead was born in Houston and lives in Los Angeles and Texas. Her birth date is June 18.

And then there was one...

Misery loves company. There was always strength in numbers. We weren't the only ones in the same boat. No matter how bad we had it, someone else had it worse. How many other cliches can you name that served the purpose of providing solace to a person or people who were in a bad situation by pointing out that other people were just as bad off, if not worse?

Just like a good investor spreads his or her wealth around in a diverse portfolio, so were good Cub fans able to spread out their misery of not having won anything. Hell yes, we were bad, but so were our brethren in futility, White Sox fans and Red Sox fans.

The similarities overlapped on levels on the surface, and far deeper.

Until the Sox built the Comiskey Ball Mall, aka The Cell, aka The Joan, they had the oldest park in captivity, followed by Fenway, followed by Wrigley.

The names seemed to morph like the faces in them bad nineties videos: Chicago Cubs --> Chicago White Sox --> Boston Red Sox.

They all had a 'B' Curse: Billy Goat --> Black Sox --> Babe Ruth.

Sure, the White Sox would traditionally try to build their team with speed in their big ballpark, while the other two would try to load up on sluggers to take advantage of their bandboxes. But there was never enough pitching. All three teams managed to qualify during the recent watered-down playoff format, but each team suffered from bad managing (2000 White Sox), horrific luck (1986 Red Sox) or both (2003 Cubs).

I had watched a lot of baseball during my first 40 years on this planet, and as I have become a firm believer in the power of management, leadership, and last but not least, karma, I fully believed I would go to my grave with these three ancient franchises forever linked in their legacy of failure.

But you know what has happened since last year. If there be such things as curses, the Red Sox lifted theirs last year, and the White Sox lifted theirs last night. In the business, they call this LIFO, since the Red Sox last won in 1918, and the White Sox in 1917. So...if I catch my guess correctly, and I haven't been out to any of the Blue Kool-Aid swilling, rosey outlook websites today, I predict that the theme might be "It's Our Turn Next Year".

And it just might be. Who would have thought that the Soxes would have won anything going into these years? I mean, the Red Sox play in the same division as the Steingrabbers, they gutted out their front office, installed a geek as their GM, and hired the UberGeek, Bill James, to advise him. The White Sox were picked to finish behind the Twins, as they had for the past few years, and they are run by the red-assed Kenny Williams, who has been known to display his managerial acumen by going down to the clubhouse after losses and calling his players "cunts". He went out and hired the UberRedAss, Ozzie Montana Guillen, then they traded away 70 homers and 200 RBIs in Carlos Lee and Magglio Ordonez, and to top that, Frank Thomas and his potential 40/100 sat on his fat ass pretty much the entire season, except for one three week spree where he hit like 12 homers.

In other words, is it a coincidence that these two organizations completely changed their direction, and then they won?

Finally getting to the notion of us, die-hard bitter Cub fans, what do we have at the present? Dusty Baker, who just like his two immediate predecessors, in his fourth year talking like somebody is stomping down HARD on his scrotal sack. Same as always, Cuddly Cubbies Derrek Lee, Aramis Ramirez, Mark Prior, Kerry Wood, The Corpse of Greg Maddux and Ryan Dempster. The psychotic Carlos Zambrano is here, too, thank God. Sluggers and righthanded fastball pitchers. Same as it ever was. (Slap to forehead) Same as it ever was. (Slap to forehead) Same as it ever was.....

If we're going to emulate the performance of the recent winners, which seems to be all the rage in sports these days, then we need to take a fuckin' firehose to the front office and the clubhouse, and go in an entirely new direction. Go get some cybergeeks. Even better...go sell the fuckin' team to someone with an Ego, somebody with some competitive experience, someone who values wins and losses over profits.

Wednesday, October 26

10/26/2005 12:55:00 PM by Rob

I can't believe what I just saw....

I just can't enjoy this. Oh, it's not because I hate the Sox, because I don't. It just doesn't seem real to me.

Every time (Bears in '85, Bulls in '91, Sox today?) win a championship, it just seem completely surreal to me. I grew up and achieved a fairly ripe age believing that Chicago fans did not deserve to have a winner, and that it was impossible for a chicago team to win. Hell, the Super Bowl Bears threw me for such a loop that I went wandering down the center of a fairly busy thoroughfare (4th Street in Champaign, IL). I don't suppose that had anything to do with the plethora of party substances I ingested earlier that day.

I experienced similar disbelief when the MJ Bulls won their first title. This just didn't happen. Of course, after a while, we all grew a sense of entitlement about the Bulls. Is MJ playing? Oh, Well. They CAN'T lose.

So, watching every break, every bobble, every call, every event turn in favor of the White Sox, it just doesn't register. I honestly felt, and still at this moment, feel that I will NEVER see a Chicago team win a World Series. I can't even imagine what it would be like if I actually cared.

I guess the only reason why I would EVEN pull for the Sox is that they don't have Bags and the Beege on their team. The B&B Boys must be complete fags. Hell, Bags couldn't even stay married to the hotsie to yer left. Someone slapped the Beege's wife the other night? It was probably his boyfriend.

Monday, October 24

10/24/2005 09:21:00 AM by Rob

I just don't get it, part XVII - Will Farrell

Before I once again confirm that I'm not with the young, hip crowd that's all the fashion this fall, I was in fact sitting in front of my telly watching the last few innings of this year's World Series, and the first thought when I saw the ball leave Posednik's bat was "What the Fuck are you doing hitting the ball in the air?" They needed baserunners, and I figured that he was just being Cublike. Here's a man who had fewer extra base hits this year than Corey the Great, for chrissakes, and with one out in the bottom of the ninth, he's trying to put a charge in one.

But instead of the Cublike result of the drive dying on the warning track, we have Black Jack McDowell (seemingly back from whatever form of Sox Hell he was banished to) correctly remarking immediately afterwards that if they can beat Roy Oswalt tomorrow night, that they'll win their first World Series in ninety years in a sweep. See, I realize Posednik's OBP is low, and that he hits for no power, and he does nothing special in the field. So why do they win with him? You can take nearly every guy on the team, except Buerhle, and break him down to his smallest parts, tear him apart, and wonder why they win. So why DO they win? The numbers won't tell you why.

Guess it must be something else then, something like, um, heart? I still wish he was on our team, along with several other white Sox that don't post big numbers but are still playing ball as of this writing.

Today's dissertation deals with the most overrated comic in America today, Will Farrell. I don't know what it is with this guy, why people all over think he's some sort of comedic genius? Outside of him asking if they could drive thru KFC on the way home (in "Old School"), I can't think of a single solitary thing he has ever said or done that made me laugh.

I got "Anchorman" from Netflix the other night. I could only do 35 minutes, it was THAT unfunny. What the hell is so amusing about a guy in bad seventies underwear going up to a girl and stammering "I want to get on you"? The only time I even mildly snickered is when the sports guy said that "he shit a squirrel" after a long night of drinking. It was a really, really stupid movie, and it just served to knock Jim Carrey off of the top of the "World's Most Unfunny American" list as far as I'm concerned. At least "Ace Ventura" was pretty good, and there were a few scenes in "The Mask" that worked for me.

He's just a big, dumb, aloof guy, who says inappropriate stuff. Basically, he's ME, with worse hair. Now I remember as a kid, another big aloof guy, Steve Martin, came along, and I would shoot milk out my nose just listening to him read off his grocery list. I felt like there was something deep and secret inside of me that Martin knew about, and that he would play to that secret dork I dared not show to the world. Maybe people feel the same way about this guy, maybe you only get one secret dork in life, and Steve Martin was mine.

Anyway, I can't recommend "Anchorman" whatsoever, although it appears that I am the only man in America who didn't get it. Maybe, it's a "red state" thing.

Finally, another high school football regular season is on the books. My kid's team played their opponent pretty hard this week. The other team was ranked second in state, and since the week before, at home, our guys gave up 56 points BY HALFTIME to a 1-6 team, I figured if we held Tolono to double digits Friday night, it would be a moral victory. We stayed within 20, which in my eyes covers the spread, which I would have set at 45 and a half. My kid said he made six tackles, which is akin to Scott Posednik hitting a walk-off dong in the World Series.

I went to see a pretty decent Coaler game down in Black Lung, and we had the ball down seven with 30 seconds left and 70 yards to cover. Our kids had the big plays, but the Wilmington boys controlled the line of scrimmage, much like the Bears did yesterday, and eventually they ground us down. I don't see either team doing much from here on out. Charlie Coaler (along with the unauthorized and sexually ambiguous Coaler Man and Coaler Boy) will take their show to Braidwood Friday night for the 4A first round Playoff. I'm debating whether or not I should go, considering that since the 4A finals last November, when the Coaler was spanked by Montini, I have not seen MY team win once. (Coalers 0-3, Trojans 0-5, I missed the Farmington game). Maybe I'M the jinx? Maybe I shouldn't show my face? Should I take one for my team? My friends say that's ca-rap, so I'll probably go.

Friday, October 21

10/21/2005 01:47:00 PM by Rob

Newman, John: you missed the point

Mike D, I'm not sure where you were going.

I AM IN FAVOR of burning the camel jockeys in the name of psychological warfare.

I AM IN FAVOR of piling the morons up and taking pictures of them. What happened a month later? We captured Saddam, and we all cheered.

I AM IN FAVOR of doing whatever to the Koran.

In otherwords, I AM IN FAVOR of finding justice for 9/11, and the other terrorist attacks by Al Qaida.

The point is, you Bushtastic fucks, if you're going to do the crime, fess up to it. Don't go covering asses by lying about it. I would feel much better if some Star-Spangled jarhead with scrambled eggs all over his chest got in front of a microphone, and said:

"Yeah, we fuckin' burned dead Taliban. When you stop kidnapping and beheading ours, we'll stop wiping our asses on your Korans."

But we didn't, we pussed out, and lied. Just another day in the life of the Bush adminstration. Invade a country, pay Halliburton trillions to clean it up, and then deny everything.

The one thing I hate in this world is when somebody insults my intelligence by telling me I didn't see something when I did, which is the standard MO of this administration.

All you two managed to show me today is that you don't know how to read and interpret three paragraphs of reasonably spelled and syntactically correct material.

10/21/2005 01:28:00 PM by Rob

THE Last Game of the Year, Bay-bee!

THIS is the one all of us sick bastards waits for.

Rivarly Week! This is where Stevenson plays Warren, when Naperville North plays Naperville Central, DG North plays DG South, and ~~Mendota takes on Tolono~~ and the big one in MY world, the upstanding, clean cut Coalers taken on the yellow-hammers from Wilmington.

Just kidding...hold up...like I said, I will never forget just how cool it was that after Driscoll beat them in the Quarters last year, hundreds of Wildcat fans came over to our house for the Semis against Quincy ND, and rooted for US? Imagine that?!? It was cool, and my Wilmington hatred died that day.

The hatred started during the Damien Anderson days, when THEY had Division I talent running the ball, and we just had our usual. It really boiled over when my son was in sixth grade, and we played them in pee-wees. I swear to God, some of those kids were shaving, and brought their wives and kids in the vans they drove over. They didn't just shut us out, they didn't just annihilated us in the usual sense of the word, they actually DID annihilate us. After our fourth kid got hauled away in an ambulance, our coach threw in the towel with the whole 4th quarter left. The game was completely and utterly out of hand, due in no small part to the refs being spooked out by the parents of these little neanderthals screaming for more Coal City blood.

I REALLY hated Wilmington after that.

But that group was the group that graduated last year - the Vercelli, Friddle, Tanner Roark group. Fuck 'em and feed them fishheads. I have nothing against the kids in there now, even if they beat us, which is a distinct possibility.

On neutral ground, Wilmington beats us. I'm hoping that a major turnout at home tonight helps our guys, as well as the recent decision to play strong-armed sophomore J. T. Blaine at QB, to take the emphasis somewhat off of Zack Smith, the little long-haired boy who used to build K-nex all the time, who has over 1,000 yards rushing this year, all of them obtained in close quarters, as opposed to the open field. Yes, I have the right to get all watery-eyed over this.

My own son? I simply implored him not to get hurt against state-ranked Tolono tonight. I'm not going down there, a decision I think is best for both dad and son. He got fucked out of an all-conference mention, because I am pretty sure his coach didn't nominate him. The rest of the remaining offensive line members got at least Honorable Mention, which really fucking sucks since Nick is the only one out of the five who knows how to pass-block. But the genius who runs his team thinks Nick is insubordinate.

Uh, no. He's just too smart to jump feet first into your simplistic bullshit. Try wearing a pair of pants WITH a zipper, and a shirt WITHOUT one. Review yer precious game films, hammerhead. The guy NOT falling on his ass is Nick.

Thursday, October 20

10/20/2005 01:51:00 PM by Rob

I'm going political, again, for a second

If you don't like it, suck my diack. It has to be said.

"This alleged action is repugnant to our common values," Maj. Gen. Jason Kamiya

BULLSHIT, bullshit, bullshit, bulllll-shiiiiit.

Prisoners being made to whack off in front of a camera at Abu Gharib.

Korans being flushed down toilets at Gitmo.

Dead Taliban being pointed to the west, and burned to cinders, in Afghanistan.

The people who actually did the dirty work, they claim it was all part of a "Psychological operation".

The people in charge, like Maj. Gen. Kamiya, they deny knowledge of such things. In fact, if they are allowed to elaborate, they will claim that we know not of how the Arabic mind acts, and it would NEVER occur to any American fighting man or woman to perform such perversities.

Bullshit.

Again, I say Bullshit.

I barely paid attention in a college level Middle Eastern history class 20 some years ago, but even I know that these people aren't into their self-worth the way we are. They don't care if they live or die, but they get awfully snippy if they are "disrespected". I know this, and if you try to tell me that our armed forces do not, fuckin' wake up, okay?

The Army fully believes they can fuck up royally one day, and then deny it to the highest heavens the next. The people in charge of our country believe that we are all so fuckin' stupid that we forget everything, that we have forgotten that we are the MOST ruthless nation on Earth, and that we all believe that we always conduct ourselves with the utmost morality at all times, even in times of war, when our enemies themselves may be torturing and beheading our own people, the ultimate insult to any American.

Well, that, and telling us we have to pay more for our gas. The ultimate insults.

Personally myself, the Taliban torching took place in 2002, while we were still looking in earnest for bin Laden, and I don't care if we burned a couple of the shiteaters while yelling in a bullhorn that the rest were too gutless enough to claim the bodies of their dead.

I just wouldn't deny it later.

10/20/2005 08:57:00 AM by Rob

Yes, it's Chuck's picture. He can sue me if he wants

I just like it, so Chuck, if you want to sue me, bring it ON, big boy.

I suppose I shouldn't let the occassion pass without mentioning my feelings on the final shape and size of the World Series. After all, it pits a team who has never won a pennant, against a team that happens to wear the word "Chicago" on its chest when it plays on the road. So as a baseball fan, I ought to be goddamn giddy, huh?

Anyone who has been in a hospital in the last three years has heard the nurse ask the patient "On a scale of one to ten, how bad does it hurt?" (On an aside, every time I hear it, I cringe, because my straight-ass bitch cunt of an ex-wife was and is a big-shot in the world of nursing, and I remember her being on a committee in charge of making all the nurses in Northern Illinois remember to say this). Anyway, on a scale of one to ten, how much do I care about the World Series this year, one meaning the Cardinals are playing the Yankees, and ten meaning the Cubs are one out away from winning the whole thing?

Put me down for a two. I intensely dislike the AssTrolls, but I suspect that has more to do with the recent rivalry, and less to do with the sheer unabated hatred I feel for the Evil Satanic Fowl and their inbred fans in Missouri. So I guess if the gun was stuck in my mouth, and I had to choose, this is what I would pick in order to avoid swallowing lead. And the White Soxes, well, we've already painted that fence, haven't we. Good team + bad fans = boring to watch.

I'm probably going to miss the opener Saturday night, because I'm going to a weenie roast downstate, no lie. Few things the Sloth loves more than the smell of a fall bonfire, even if I have to smell it at my brother-in-law's house. He's ok, I'm not too stoked about his wife or her family. See, if I'm wrong about something, I will be the first to admit it. But otherwise, you get exactly ZERO chances in life to get in MY face and bitch at me over something I had no control over, or something I did that WASN'T wrong. She exceeded her quota, and I don't care if she gives me a zillion dollars, or cures cancer, or teaches the whole world to sing, in perfect harmony. She'll always be personna non-grata in my book.

Wednesday, October 19

10/19/2005 09:20:00 AM by Rob

Something ELSE to piss Thorn off

Frequent commenter and long-time pain in my ass Thorn loves to play golf, probably even more than his other habits, such as drinking mass quantities of cheap Miller beer, playing his guitars, eating, and sleeping with his wife who has always compared favorably to Christie Brinkley. He has tried repeatedly to drag my dead ass out there, starting around age 15 or so, as a way to get ourselves deep into the middle of nowhere so we could swill Old Styles. As he can attest, I sucked goat dick at age 15, and I've only gone downhill from there.

I know, 98% of us SAY we suck at golf. Most of you are too modest. I truly suck. I usually shoot 75 for 9 holes. There just aren't enough hours in the day for me to play 18. I have played enough putt-putt golf so I am not the worst putter in the world. But I can't get the ball in the air, and I can't hit it straight, and I can't reproduce anything consistently. I've never hit a clean chip shot in my life.

I met my second wife on a golf outing, and she claimed that the thing that first attracted her to me was how bad I sucked, and (on that day) I wouldn't complain.
Well, sugar, I was being nice that day. We went out several more times together after that, and eventually, I went back to being myself, beating my clubs against the ground and 'mother-fucking' every shot. She left me soon afterwards.

I have zillions of excuses as to why I suck so bad. Part of the screwup is that I am very right-handed. To this day, I can't do anything left-handed except wipe my ass. And, as it would be, swing a bat, stick, or club. Seems that during my formative years, my dad put me in the left-handed batters box, because HE was left handed, and it never occurred to him that people batted the other way. So there I am, to this day, standing on the wrong side of the ball, PULLING my shots with my right arm, rather than PUSHING them with my left.

One day, I went to a used golf store, and cherry-picked a right-handed set, and went out and didn't do half bad. So my wife runs right out and buys me a custom set of right handed clubs, and announces to me that she expected me to start doing much better. Of course, THAT was the fuckin' Kiss of Death. For my biggest problem is dealing with the competitiveness of it all. I am a major Type B personality, I really could care less who wins or loses when it comes to something I'm doing, except for Fucking Golf. Then, I'm all pissed off when my 99 pound second wife outdrives me 8 of the nine holes, except for the 120 yard par-3. THAT one I bust about a half-mile.

I haven't golfed since that fuckin' bitch left me. I gave my custom clubs to my elder son, and he took them out a few times a couple of years ago. He thinks the sport is 'gay', as they say. Well, I'll tell you what. It's ok if you're fuckin' around with a few other guys. But nobody fucks around golfing anymore, and even the scrubbiest, shittiest courses these days expect you to conduct your business with decorum and, uh, couth.

I mean, what a fuckin' sport. Didja hear what happened last week? In case you live under a rock, or in Kazahstan, Michelle Wie is a hyper-tall fifteen year old Chinese-American girl who can smack a ball further than Happy Gilmore. So she turned pro, and everyone involved is fighting her every step of the way. Last week, in her first paying gig, she had to give back her 53 G's and her fourth-place finish because she took a drop that was 12 inches in front of her first one.

I don't know her; maybe she's a stone cold bitch slut whore in real life, maybe people around her hate her elongated guts. Other than that, I can't understand why a reporter would find it HIS business to turn her in? And, once she was tattled on, why couldn't they, like, dock her a stroke, even two? She would still finish in the top ten, and get a good chunk of change. I understand that she already has millions in the bank from endorsements. But disqualification, over 12 inches? Are the guys that run the sport THAT repressed, and the people who participate THAT insecure, that they all think that this is reasonable?

It seems really over the top, to me. Sure, she knows the rules, and knowing the kind of stuffed shirts that run her particular sport, she should have erred on the side of extreme caution. But, you know me and details. If I gotta follow a bunch of rules, and pick a bunch of nits, then fuckit, find me a more low-key deal, like bowling. You cross the line, the buzzer goes off, and the little computer that keeps score marks you down with an F. Other than that, anything goes.

Tuesday, October 18

10/18/2005 11:51:00 AM by Rob

Tom Likes A He

Kudos to Forklift for the nice anagram of 'Katie Holmes'. Notice that before she met the gay porn star, she was cute, and now she just seems, um, blah? Katie, dear, ask Jen Aniston...don't marry someone cuter than you.

I want to pass along an apology today. I wish I could give you something good every day, either a good Cub rant, or something like the Duggars on Friday. I fuckin' chuckled as I wrote that. If I could pull that off every day, I could rake for National Lampoon, or the Onion, or one of them. I racked my brain all day for an idea, but I just can't manufacture that kind of venom. It has to be real, I can't fake it.

I could jag on President Hopalong and the troll he picked for Supreme Court Justice. My God, she's wound up tighter than Haitian baseballs in 1998. She really needs a solid fuckin', but I doubt yer gonna find a human willing to tackle THAT assignment. Maybe they deliver. (Um, NOT NOT NOT safe for work)

Before I starting popping pills every morning, I felt that way about more things. These days, I'm actually a little more willing to live and let live. I could cut the Paxil from my daily diet, and I'd write better. Then I'd be divorced, again. I love you all from the very core of my loins, but sleeping alone sucks. Always has.

Oh, well, there's always the old standby. Here's some Kiera Knightley for ya. You've been great. Try the veal.

Monday, October 17

10/17/2005 09:16:00 AM by Rob

The riots ensued when semi-trucks loaded with Sudafed and starter fluid were hijacked by giddy Sox fans

The sporting event I'd thought I'd never see, the box score I'd thought I'd never read...Maccabi Tel Aviv beating the NBA Toronto Raptors. Somewhere in Northbrook last night, someone saw Chuck dancing in the streets, and mistook him as a Sox fan.

No, seriously, in the list of things I thought I would never see: the World Trade Center collapsing under the weight of terrorism on American soil; watching people starving to death in the Superdome, on live TV, while the government denied knowledge of it; Tom Cruise fathering a child with Katie Holmes; and finally, a team from Chicago winning the pennant. I have always wondered how I would react if the Sox won a pennant. Would I somehow feel a surge of Chicago pride?

No, as it turned out, I suppose I felt like I would if I were in San Francisco and Oakland won a pennant. Meaning, I felt hollow, empty, anally violated. I don't buy any of this civic pride shit. To me, the South Side IS in fact another place, another city.

I will now give the TEAM itself all the credit it deserves. Today, right now, I would willingly accept and welcome with open arms these players onto my team, without regard to whom they would replace:

Mark Buerhle, Jon Garland, Jose Contreras, nearly every member of the pen, Tad Iguchi, Jose Uribe, A. J. Eyechart, Scott Posednik (who took SIX walks in the last two games!), Aaron Rowland, and Jermaine Dye. Furthermore, if there was a way to get Konerko and Derrek Lee on the field at the same time, that would be super.

I respect the effort of all 25 men on this team, but that's about it.

There were three amazing things about the 2005 Chicago White Sox in this ALCS. Numero uno, and BST put it simply and best the other day after the Dropped Third Strike that Really Wasn't: "You can't do that to the Ozzie Guillen Sox. They're the cats that let themselves in the door." The most resilient and resourceful team I have seen in years.

Number two: four complete games in a row, in this day and age, is beyond insane. The Sox hadn't done that themselves since the Wilbur Wood days, when he pitched the first and fourth game himself. Of course, he was a knuckleballer, and men were men back in 1974. When was the last time my team recorded four complete games in a row? Have to be the sixties...1860's, maybe.

Lastly, and mostly: whether or not I myself consider them to be part of Chicago, or some other separate entity, they have "Chicago" on their chests, and they did NOT choke with a one-run lead with six outs to go. In fact, in this series, it was their opponent who suffered the bad calls, the unlucky bounces, and the mental meltdowns. This quite possibly PROVES my theorem that the Cubs and Sox do not really reside in the same town, for if they did, they would have somehow found a way to lose last night.

Well, Mayor Daley clapped and cheered. Hundreds of giddy Sox fans hit the corner of 35th and Wentworth last night to celebrate, hundreds more packed the bars in Bridgeport, Beverly, Merrionette Park, Oak Lawn, etc, and hundreds met their heroes as they arrived early this morning at Midway. Ozzie Guillen had his limo driver stop in front of the crowd so he could shake hands; Aaron Rowland hung out the moonroof of his 4x4 to wave to the fans. All very nice, no problems were reported in the paper, just the kind of celebration reminiscent of when the pennant was won in....Minnesota?!?

I'm sorry, kids, but if it were the other team, on the North Side, they would have closed Chicago down today. Tens of thousands would still be roaming the streets at THIS hour, highways would be impassable, public transportation would be severely curtailed, and commerce would grind to a halt. It would be mass chaos, and thousands of poor black folk would be stuck at the United Center on the West Side without food, water, or diapers. Mayor Daley and FEMA would deny there was a problem, even as Anderson Cooper was reporting it on CNN.

The only inconvenience I have had to bear is that I have the sniffles, and I wanted some cold medicine. Allegedly, the meth labs in Alsip, Crete, and Blue Island are working overtime, and there's a three-day waiting period mandated by Gov'nor Rod before I can get some Sudafed.

Friday, October 14

10/14/2005 08:59:00 AM by Rob

Sixteen Safely Home, Duggars Want More

Little Rock, AR (AP) - little Johannah Faith Duggar, the sixteenth child of documentary subjects Joe Bob and Michelle Duggar, is safely home from the hospital, and her parents are already hard at work on a little brother or sister for her.

"Oh, yes," enthusiastically replied Joe Bob, "that's the great thing that God provides me and Michelle. Her labor was only about 20 minutes, we just checked into the hospital, sat down, and little Jasminn - Jehova - uh, I mean Jenni - gosh, shucks, the baby just popped out like a raisin bagel from a wide-slot toaster. Since my wife didn't need drugs or stitches, thank the Lord, she has no pain, and she's ready to go." Duggar shyly giggled to himself, and continued, "God only knows it's been three months since the third trimester started, and man, I'm some kind of loaded for bear!"

Mrs. Duggar gave a hint as to why so many children. "Before I married Jim Bob," Michelle explained, "I used to get these things called 'periods', and they really hurt. And I bled!! Joe Bob's so smart, praise the Lord. He told me that he had an idea on how I could completely avoid these 'periods' where I was in so much discomfort." She looked lovingly at her husband, and gushed, "He is so good to me, as is the Lord."

The Duggars and their children, all of whom have names starting with 'J', like their dad, have been the subject of a Learning Channel documentary, and TLC as well as the Discovery Channel have new shows in production about the clan. The coosome couple were asked if there were any difficulties with such a large family, logistic or otherwise.

Hesitantly Jim Bob, a former congressional candidate offered, "Well, I don't know if I should say this, but Lord willing, it should be alright. See, I guess, um, stimulation is kind of an issue for us. God help her, Michelle has been through so much, that her vaginal opening is kind of, um, big. In fact, when we go to sleep at night, that's where I keep the television remote control, along with our copy of the Good Word. There's nothing sacrilegious about this: we love the Lord, and we hold our bodies to be a sacred temple. Michelle cleans herself down there often, just as we've taught all our girls.

"I guess it's okay for me to say that since our second set of twins were born, I've pretty much availed myself to her, um, backside. It's nice and tight, and when the time is right, I just pull out of her pooper and dump my seed into her wishing well. Obviously, that's working out well for us. Michelle really hasn't gotten into it to this day, she feels it is an abomination unto the Lord. But as long as I remember to lick the 'little bishop', she's usually okay with it in the end."

"No pun intended!" Duggar quickly chuckled.

When asked if it was a financial burden for Michelle to have two wardrobes, one regular and one for maternity, she answered "Well, we really don't have that problem. I make all my own dresses, as well as for my girls, and since baby number 8, little Jus-his-name, I've just stopped making 'regular' outfits for myself, and just stick to the maternity patterns. When I'm not pregnant, I just go naked. This just drives Joe Bob crazy, and it's hard for him to keep his hands off of me. Most of the women I see in church never do it, at least with their husbands.

"I just feel so blessed," Michelle concluded. "Jim Bob and I are still so much in love with one another, and what better way to demonstrate our love for the Lord and for each other but to accept His blessing of children." At that, the Duggars ended the interview and rushed into the bedroom of their small, congested home.

When the children were asked for any comment, they stood respectful but silent until one of the girls, who appears about 10, stepped forward.

"Well, I have a problem that all of us had to have a 'J' name. My name is spelled J-I-N-G-E-R, and all the kids at school call me 'jing-er', which rhymes with 'ringer', when really my name is pronounced like 'ginger', like on Gilligan's Island. All the other kids in school have either a normal name like Jason or a biblical name like Jedediah." When it was pointed out to Jinger that she, like all the other Duggar children, were home schooled, she indicated that she forgot.

---------------------------------------------------------

I mean, c'mon James and Joe. What the fuck, you want me to write about BASEBALL?? Now?? That wouldn't really fit in with what I've always done, would it? How about the disclaimer underneath Big Z? As I've always said, I ain't no Baseball fan, for Baseball's sake. I'm a Cub fan, I don't give a big rip about the rest of them, and since they're bringing Dusty back for next year, I'm too Goddamned discourage to even write about the Cubs anymore.

Thursday, October 13

10/13/2005 08:19:00 AM by Rob

CT, You KNOW I loves me some Geddy Lee mi-ty fierce...

I actually watched the Sux last night, and it certainly SEEMS like the ball jumped up into Josh Paul's mitt, but it was completely inconclusive whether the ball kicked up off of the ground, or off of the web of the mitt.

There were only two things going through MY mind last night as I watched this:

1) Get ready for instant replay in baseball, kids, and get ready to start bitchin' about Dusty's misuse of his red flag

2) Why can't the Cubs get guys like A. J. Eyechart to play for them?

As seen on TV: The Duggar's of Little Rock, Arkansas, welcomed their sixteenth child into the world recently, and they're gunnin' for more.

Uh, Joe Bob? You must be one helluva man. I mean, your wife Michelle's fun flume has got to be the size of the Boston Big Dig by now. It must take you ten minutes just to walk to one side of her pussy, so you can have something to rub against when you pork her. It appears that she was pretty cute, once upon a time, but the ravages of getting knocked up 14 times (2 sets of twins) have understandably altered whatever hottness she might have had once.

I watched your special last year. A trip to the supermarket runs you about $1,400. Your home-schooled kids are just moronic beyond belief, and the barrack bedrooms in the 7,000 sq. ft. monstrosity you're building should be a trip. You got babies in cribs on one end of the room, and teenage girls jukin' themselves with oversized magic markers on the other. Because that's what teenage girls do these days before they go to sleep at night. Maybe not yours, though. What if they all have sixteen kids? Who the fuck's gonna cater your thanksgiving dinner, Aramark?

These people are just nuckin' futs.

Finally, back to music. I am finding that, since the Cubs have positioned themselves into irrelevance, and people don't fight fair when it comes to religion or politics, the best way to argue with someone is to start on their music. It tends to mean more to people than, say, their choice of toothpaste, but not as much as, say, their kids.

I managed to worm my way into CT's heart by expressing my admiration for the JCA Hilltoppers and their 47 state championships, as well as my love for the garlic butterine poorboy at Merichka's. But then I go and fuck with his emotions...he feels the same about Rush as Chuck does about Corey Patterson. Or as Tommy does about zombies.

I LOVE Rush! I love the pretentious Neil Peart lyrics; I love the pretentious Neil Peart drumming. I love that Geddy Lee's mom is probably the only Jewish female independent hardware store owner on earth. I love that Alex Lifeson likes to get ripped and tear places apart. I love them wall-to-wall, I even like some of their new stuff. I love that the term "power trio" was invented just for them. I even love that Triumph tried to rip them off big time, and even cranked out "Fight the Good Fight", which is better than any Rush song, but over the course of time, the greatest power trio from Toronto is the original...

I am very aware that I tend to like groups that do not enjoy critical acclaim, and I tend to avoid groups that do. If there is anything more overrated in this world than Dave Matthews, let me know. I've wondered why that is, and the best I can figure, is I'm not very sophisticated. I don't do subtleties. I can't read lips, I tend to miss gestures and symbols, but I understand a swift kick in the nutts.

Page 3 of 29 of the Sloth's Stranded on a Desert Island List includes:

"Heaven is a Place on Earth", Belinda Carlisle (THE song I do karaoke to)

"Sex (I'm a....)", Berlin

"Paranoid", Black Sabbath

"Burnin' For You", Blue Oyster Cult

"Woo Hoo", Blur

"Three Little Birds", Bob Marley and the Wailers

"Cannonball", Breeders

"I Want Candy", Bow Wow Wow

"A Man I'll Never Be", Boston

As Thorn will attest, don't EVEN get me started about Tom Scholz.

Wednesday, October 12

10/12/2005 04:03:00 PM by Rob

Congratulations

We here at the Sloth congratulate Katie Holmes and Tom Cruise on their impending bundle of joy. I hope that the baby is happy, healthy, and somehow able to let all of Dad's scientology shit go in one ear and out the other.

10/12/2005 09:20:00 AM by Rob

Music helps the people come together

The Sloth answers Forklift, Thorn, and Joe

First off, his real name isn't Eric, just something just as ambiguous.

Second of all, I do not swill the Blue Kool-Aid. So I just said "shit" and "motherfucker" when I read yesterday that Larry RothSchild is NOT leaving to go to Detroit. Fuck, that means that the entire coaching staff is coming back for another go at it in 2006. Jesus Bullwhipped Christ, it isn't like the staff is to blame for trotting out LaTroy Hawkins as a closer, or Corey Patterson as a leadoff man. It isn't like the team led the league in most first pitches swung at, or led the league in most pitches thrown by starters. The staff has nothing to do with the fact that the three singlemost worst hitters in OBP in the NL racked up nearly 1,000 ABs between them.

Since Hendry is sending the same cast out there next year, he is officially on notice. I don't give a fuck if he is able to trade for the entire NL all-star roster for next year. If they do not make the playoffs in 2006, every last employee responsible for the wins and losses of the team has to be fired. I don't know if that includes Andy McSweaterVest? Is he in charge of wins and losses, or in charge of revenues? I honestly don't know anymore. The President of the team ought to be held accountable on the basis on wins and losses. I'm not sure the President of the Cubs is.

OK, for Joe, and Thorn, and Forklift, two points:

1) I must not have done a good job in communicating what I was getting at. There are over 1,200 songs on my little thingy, and I simply listed the most obscure of those that printed on the first of 29 pages that I printed. That first page also contains several selections from 3 Doors Down, AC/DC, and Eric Johnson, amongst others.

2) You say my taste in music sucks? Well, first, Fork, the Ramones? You live in the NY Metro area, so I guess they speak to you. I'm aware that you were here during their heyday, but like so many other acts that are so damn apple-centric, they just don't say anything to me, Mr. Midwest. You like your three chords from guys from Forest Hills, I like my three chords from guys from Madison, WI (Off Broadway).

As for you, Thorn, one of these days, I want you to type up a guest column on what YOU listen for when you listen to music. You and me have scrapped about this since the sixth grade. While you were whackin' off to Lennon & McCartney, I was strokin' it to Dennis DeYoung. You went punk, I went new wave.

He's a Musician, and I am tone deaf, and I suspect that has something to do with the differences. He hates production, which he thinks gets in the way of the music. To me, the production makes the product. Let's look at a few of these:

Back in Black-AC/DC - Surprise? I thought we determined that "Highway to Hell" was the pinnacle? Thorn usta lock me in his dad's LTD2, and make me listen to HtH for hours.

Empty Glass-Pete Townsend - Pete sucks peepees. But I have love for Peter and the Who. You know that.

East Side Story-Squeeze
Murmur-REM - yeah, well, critical acclaim, schmitical acclaim. See, I hate low-key shit, and Squeeze would always depress the hell out of me. As for REM, I hate music that I'm somehow supposed to GET. Like, I have a hard enough time trying to think through my personal relationships, my professional relationships, etc. I don't want to have to THINK about my music. If it doesn't just beat me over the fuckin' head from the get-go, then I don't care about it. I went to see REM with some buddies down at college. I pretended to have a good time, but you know? It all kind of mushed together.

Ace Of Spades- FUCKING MOTORHEAD! - really? I never knew.

After The Snow-Modern English - I have "Someone's Calling" and the title track, not just "I Melt With You", one of the all-time greats, on the little thingy.

Marshall Crenshaw-First - once again, I think this one falls in the category that it never hit me over the head. Maybe there's something I'm missing, but I don't see myself picking up a great Marshall Crenshaw jones in the future.

Pick any Clash album. - you know I also have love for Joe Strumper.

Anyway, Slothy has always been wrong about tunes. He once tried to get me to enjoy an Afrika Baambaata "tune". Denied. It was Musical Youth. Indeed.

Now, on to Joe:

Credence- Bad Moon Rising
Eric Burdon & Animals- House of the Rising Sun
Dusty Springfield- Son of a Preacher Man
Steppenwolf- Born to be Wild
Rolling Stones- Sympathy for the Devil

I have "Sympathy" on the thingy, but Good Lord, Joe, if I wanted to hear any of this shit, all I have to do is click on any "Classic Rock" station. These songs represent the height of Baby Boom, "Big Chill" overkill. I literally get ill whenever I hear "Born to Be Wild" anymore. I have seen that fuckin' song used in conjunction with everything from Chevrolets to the Olsen Twins.

Who, incidentally, look like slutty crack whores compared to my two favorite TV girls right now. On your left is Madison Michele, who is on that TV Guide channel where they roll through what's on all the channels. The other is Alyson Michalka, who's the current It Girl on Disney Channel. Yum.

Tuesday, October 11

10/11/2005 04:47:00 PM by Rob

Door County and Power Rangers

Sorry I've been gone so long.

I was meaning to write once more before we left for Door County. I was gonna write about how much I was dreading the meeting I had set up with my cousin Eric, the confirmed bachelor who lives up that way with another artsy fartsy type, who are just friends. I didn't call him, my mom did, after she heard that we were headed that way. I waited until the last minute to tell her, but even that didn't work...anyway, I didn't have the time Friday morn to write, so here I am.

Anyway, Eric's still weird. Nothing horrible to report, however. I just sat there the whole night, holding my breath, hoping he didn't say or do anything to horrify my wife.

See, I haven't talked to him since the Power Rangers episode of about 8 years ago. Once, between marriages, I had him babysit my kids while I went off on a date with some beast I had met on the internet, actually, she was cute enough, but she went on about her 12-step programs, blah blah, and I ended up telling her that she talked too much, which pissed her off, and then my car got mysteriously keyed at work one day...

...oh, anyway, back to Eric, who was slinking around like a dog when I came home that night. I asked if the kids were alright, and he assured me they were, and they were, and he left, and I didn't realize what had happened for a couple of days, when my eldest son came up to me crying that all of his Power Ranger toys were missing their heads.

To make a long investigation short, Eric had taken them. And eaten them. Was he somehow mad at the Red Ranger? Nah, he saw some good heads, and took the initative to eat them. Saved him some dough, normally, he'd have to buy the "action figures" himself, so he could bit the heads off.

Seems that when the heads run "through the system", they tend to stretch his turdhole to it's limit, which gives him quite the rush. In fact, he looks forward to the time, as he furiously whacks off while the plastic cranium tears its way through his distended rectum.

Not that he's GAY, mind you. No, heavens no, why would I think that? He likes girls, or rather, he doesn't necessarily like men. He just likes his pooper messed with when he's getting off. Most female types don't get into that, or at least, they charge more. Sometimes, in the past when funds were scarce, he'd pluck them from the bowl, wipe them down real good, sanitize them, then, you know, recycle them...at least until the combination of stomach acids and boiling waters would smooth down the features of the heads, thus rendering them unproductive for their task.

Shit, what a fuckin' weirdo. He smelled like petroleum jelly all night. I had the chill bumps from the moment we saw him until the moment we paid the check and ran like hell.

Thursday, October 6

10/06/2005 01:21:00 PM by Rob

I don't wanna talk about baseball, so I'll talk music

Guess who just put out a new album? Guess who's gonna have to be installed as a permanent non-negotiable on the Grand All-Majestic in about two years? (If yer new here, this is Renee Olstead, teenage redheaded babe videostar)

Little things make me happy. Like Renee. And, like finally learning how to print out the contents of my mp3 player. I am just all full of happy for myself that I have a little thing that permits me to not have to listen to commercial radio, and gives me all the horrid trashy adolescent shit I listened to in the years 1978 to 1986, the Golden Age of the Sloth.

I'm afeared that I'm burying the needle on the "self indulgency meter", but permit me to list a few of the nugs I dug when I was a mere wee Sloth:

I Could Be Good For You, by "707"
Boogie Oogie Oogie, by "A Taste of Honey"
New York Groove, by Ace Frehley
Fantasy, by Aldo Nova
All Over Town, by "April Wine"
Electric Land, by "Bad Company"
Robert DeNiro's Waiting, by "Bananarama"

OK, that's the Best of Page one. Of twenty-nine. Big assed hairy Deal, you say, you gots you that 80's Channel on that there XM. Well, Mr. Man, I don't wanna pay for mah ray-de-oh, and besides, how many times can a guy listen to "Crush on You" before he starts smashing his car into Econovans full of nuns and foster children?

"...how did you know? 'cause I never told, you found out...I've gotta crush..on.. you!" AAAHHHAAHHHH!!

Let me read all this again.

Fuck!! This sucks. I don't know WHAT to say today. I mean, what the fuck can I say about the world today that you don't already know? Some scary lookin' dyke calls Dubya "the smartest man ever", probably with her fingers crossed behind her bony ass, and he nominates her for Supreme Court Justice...the end-all, be-all of Job Security.

Well, that, and the Pope. And Dictator of Haiti. And Casey Kasem's Top 40.

I guess I'll have to admit that I did stay up last night to catch the Sux score. THERE, THORN. Ya satisfied? It's early, awfully early. Twice in my lifetime, my favorite team has come within 5 outs of winning a pennant. But I gotta admit that it appears like Ozzie and his boys woke up the other day with the Lucky Horseshoe stuck up their ass. Yes, that Lucky Horseshoe. Where they seperate the men from the boys...with a crowbar.

Finally, a shout out to Wigs for sending me this mind-blowing site of every last word ever spoken on "Monty Python's Flying Circus". Just a random click in the site gave me:

Yes, yes. Now Mr Phipps, you do realize that the post of librarian carries with it certain very important responsibilities. I mean, there's the selection of books, the record library, and the art gallery. Now it seems to me that your greatest disadvantage is your lack of professional experience ... coupled with the fact that, uh, being a gorilla, you would tend to frighten people.

Wednesday, October 5

10/05/2005 01:54:00 PM by Rob

Why not?

As seen on Ruz's and Chuck's pages, a nice neat way to summarize the season, and to once and for all, set my embargo in place until Baker leaves town.

Let's start off with the biggest positive in an otherwise disappointing season: Does Derrek Lee deserve the MVP? Will he get it?

Lee can thank Andre Dawson for the fact that never again will a superior performer on a lousy team win the MVP. Lee WAS the best all-around player in the bigs in 2005.

If you had a disposable time machine that could only travel back as far as October 4th, 2004 and was good for only one trip, plus the superhero power to change people's minds and actions - what one move, moment, play or decision from this past season would you alter?

I would fire Baker, and hire Joe Girardi.

Injuries be damned, the reason why we are getting early jumps on hunting season are:

1) He repeatedly trotted LaTroy Hawkins and his full diaper to close
2) He repeatedly had a combo of Patterson, Perez, or Macias setting the table in front of Lee
3) He repeatedly has played sluggish veterans before more productive rookies - Macias before Cedeno, Hollandsworth before Dubois, Lawton over Murton

At what point did you give up on the Cubs this year?

The same date Chuck did, May 5th, when Novoa walked Damian Miller

All signs point to Dusty Baker returning for the final year of his contract in 2006. But what lies ahead for Dusty? Is an extension on the way this off-season? Is he in any danger of losing his job in 2006? Should he be? Any other coaching changes on the horizon?

The entire coaching staff should be sacked, for taking $100 million and winning 79 games with it. Other big-spending, low-producing teams fired their staffs. I cannot possibly discuss any sort of further committment to them.

What about Jim Hendry -- should McPhail and the Trib re-up him or is his fate tied with Dusty's?

Regardless of what stud trades he's pulled off, what free agents he's signed, what holes still remain on the team, if he's the decision maker on Dusty Baker remaining on their payroll, he has to be scrutinized. I don't know if there were obstacles behind our inability to acquire a leadoff hitter. But if you're going to keep Dusty Baker, Professional Motivator, as your manager, then it is up to YOU to make the team Dusty-proof. Baker CANNOT improvise a lineup, so you have to fill all nine slots in the order, all five arms in the rotation, and all six arms in the pen, so Baker doesn't need to make a decision.

If you keep Baker, and you do NOT build a Dusty-proof roster, then it is YOUR fault, and you need to go.

What are the top three that went wrong for the Cubs this year, foreseeable or not?

1) Patterson, Neifi, et al. Leading off
2) Hawkins Closing
3) Garciaparra tearing his groin

How about three that went right, besides Lee's breakout?

1) Ryan Dempster
2) Matt Murton
3) Zambrano's arm didn't fall off

The free agent market is one of the weakest in years, but the Cubs look to have plenty of cash to spend on it. Should they spend, spend, spend, and if so what should their targets be? Or should they hold on to it until next year or use it to take some garbage contracts off other teams? Should they spend it on extensions for any current players?

We have pitching prospects dying on the vine. I would utilize every single pitcher in the organization outside of Zambrano, Prior and Dempster in trades for versatile outfielders like Ryan Freel and Vlad Guerrero - I'm not saying they are available, but I would NOT be afraid to overpay for anyone worthwhile. And I would aim for the sky.

What are 3 moves the Cubs MUST DO this off-season?
1) Sack the coaching staff; hire Joe Girardi
2) Since they won't do #1, what's the point for 2 & 3?
3)

What are 3 moves the Cubs MUST NOT DO this off-season?
1) Allow Dusty Baker to fill out the lineup card
2) Since they won't do #1, what's the point for 2 & 3?
3)

Let's talk specific players. Should Baker and Hendry give the keys to left-field to Matt Murton or do they look for other options?
I wish he could play center. Since he cannot, we need to get at least 2, hopefully three, hitters in the outfield. I wouldn't die if Burnitz was here another year, just not for $7M. Perhaps Nomar COULD play left, but not for $8M. I wouldn't die if Murton was the fourth outfielder in a rotation.

Is Ryan Dempster the closer next year or should the Cubs look elsewhere?
Yes. Next question.

Nomar Garciaparra: try to resign to another incentive-laden deal OR say thanks for the memories and the groin jokes? If he comes back, where should he play?
He could be my left fielder for half the money he made this year.

Neifi Perez: uber-backup, starter, or agent's phone calls immediately transferred to voice mail?
He is NOT a backup player. I'm not saying he's a good starter, I'm saying that Perez is ATROCIOUS if he has to sit on the bench. I would let him go.

Can Corey Patterson's brain and/or bat be salvaged?
Not by the Cubs. Quite possibly, in the right situation, he may enjoy modest success elsewhere. Personally, I doubt it.

Kerry Wood: bullpen or rotation?
This is the most fucked-up situation we have on this team. He makes the most money of any Cub, and he's the best set-up man in baseball. He might be a great closer, but we have Dempster, and frankly, in my world, Dempster keeps the job until he loses it himself.

Jeromy Burnitz: pick up his $7 mil option or buy him out for $500K?

$500K. I would love to obtain an All-star RF, damn the price. Burnitz will still be there in February if we cannot.

Todd Walker: good facial hair, gimpy leg, Cubs beat writers' best friend. Pick up his option or look elsewhere?

Yeah, you hit the nail on the head. He seems better than he is, because he talks to the media. I need to close my eyes and cut bait with this one.

Which lil' Cubs would you like to see get a shot at a roster spot in spring training?

I want to see Cedeno get a shot starting at second if we can sign Furcal, or short if we cannot. I want to see more of Rich Hall, and I want to see how Leicester and Wellemeyer do with a new pitching coach.

Is 2006 the Year of the Cub? Why or why not?

Any year with Baker as the manager of the Cubs will NOT be the year of the Cubs. Since they are bound to him, then no.

10/05/2005 01:45:00 PM by Rob

Z-z-z-z-z-z-z!

The Sux won their first game 37-2.

Z-z-z-z-z-z-z!

More, later, on far more important topics, like now that Faith Hill has stopped bleaching her hair, is she hotter? (I say yes)

Tuesday, October 4

10/04/2005 09:40:00 AM by Rob

Bad day in SlothLand

Sox in the Playoffs? Worse than that!

The essential first element for former All-Majestic member Rachael Ray to sleep with me (or any of us), that she not be married, is no longer valid. Damn, y'all, this IS a real tragedy. I'd plunge into that like a bunch of moms would plunge into a "chocolate fountain" at a AYSO awards banquet.

Check out this interview, during a discussion on whether or no "Gogurt" is real food or now, she opines it isn't, but "what you suck at home is your own business".

Mmmmfff!

Great...now I'm gonna have to sit here at my desk for the next twenty minutes or so, waiting for the swelling to go down....

Monday, October 3

10/03/2005 11:15:00 AM by Rob

Let us be brave in the attempt

The Cubs lost, the season is over, Dusty Baker is coming back, whoop-de-damn-doo.

Saturday, for the second year, I assisted with the Starved Rock Special Olympics bowling trials, and I am pleased to announce that I won 50 when Horizon House out-pinned Ottawa Friendship House and Grundy County Co-op.

Just Kidding.

This is the start with what I intend to be a long-term association with helping the developmentally challenged. I don't have a lot of spare time or money now, but I envision the day when I may have both, and when I do, I will be a lot more involved with the day-to-day for these folks, not just the Special Olympics. I'm just trying to build a relationship, because for both the members and the staff that care for them, it helps to start out slowly before you jump in feet first. It's a trust issue, and I try to be sensitive.

The way I see it, the priorities in this country are completely backwards, and there just aren't enough good people helping with the people who need it the most: children, the elderly, and the developmentally challenged. Well, kids are cute, and out of the three groups, help tends to gravitate towards them. And I'm not saying that there is any type of sufficient care for the elderly, but the situation is even more grave for the last group, who aren't "cute", who aren't necessarily the beloved parents or grandparents.

The first time I did it last year, I was all full of myself, "congratulations, me, for actually going and doing like you always said you would." This year, though, I didn't come away with the euphoric high. I recognized some of the bowlers, and what's more, THEY recognized me. I came away thinking that these folks really don't need much; and it's truly a shame that even their simple needs are not always met.

For some reason, I came away feeling guilty that I couldn't do more for my own kids; but let's be honest; there isn't much anymore that I can do with either one of them that interests them. Maybe shoot paintballs at each other, that's about it. My wife tells me that I do just fine for them. I wish I could believe her.

So, anyway, I'll end this with my take on the Lynndie England interview on Dateline. (Picture withheld upon reader request). Basically, she is probably only a half-bump up from the folks I was bowling with, if that. I believe everything she says. I believe our government said "to hell with the Geneva Convention", and I believe that everything they did was, at the least, winked at by command, and probably condoned. If the pictures didn't leak out, these same people would probably be getting promotions for their expeditious manner of obtaining information.

I believe that she and the others are being offered up as sacrifical lambs to the Islamic world, in a lip-service attempt to prove our moral superiority to the world. I'm not buying it...not for a second.

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