Labels: redlegs
posted by ayatollah assahola @ 5:03 PM
Monday, August 21, 2006
Hey Dan, good thing you got the Reds, because after this fucking ass-raping, you ain't got shit else.
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13 Comments:
Unfortunately the Sox have left me without a leg to stand on. It was a brutal weekend.
But you Sarge, your devotion continues to shock and alarm me. I believed schooling, time, experience...something would get you over this disturbing idolatry of such fell, nefarious and overall disreputable organization. But no. Your brain has proved less staunch than I had believed. There is a malfunction in there somewhere, one that delights in cruelty and injustice. Look out, America, there's a new barrister on the loose, and his scruples and sanity have left him. Pray for Sarge, friends, pray fastidiously for his mortal soul, for it is wandering now in dangerous lands, and he does not appear to have the virtue to rescue it unaided.
Oh, and it IS a good thing that I have the Reds. They kick ass. If the Dodgers and the Reds meet up in the postseason, I suggest we bet something grand. My suggestion is fueled largely by the fact that we will demolish you if such an event were to come about.
Demolish. Like what happens to old dilapidated tampon factories. Demolish.
What is this pecking I feel at my feet? Who dares speak to their King in such a way? I, who have been appointed as a god among mere mortal men, have no time such petulence and imprudent thought. All nay-sayers shall be reckoned with in due time, as the mighty Yankees and Dodgers pillage their way across the land known as the MLB.
Smited. What happens to peasants who question their rulers. Or what happens to big, sloppy pussies who back any team with "Red" in its assinine name. Smited.
Your madness is overwhelming. Smited? Assinine? You must be king of a small and grammatically challenged land, my friend. I do not like to fall back on such piddling jabs, spelling and grammar not being the measure of a man...but with you Sarge, I can't figure out what measure you might hold.
A measure of delusion? A measure of idiocy? I can tell you what I have: a measure of pity for your various regrettable blurtings. It is sad to see you so--rooting for a team so foul, but whose coattails your fevered eyes cannot turn from. You clutch at their sodden reputation, crying out the names of their fallen pantheon. "Mantle!" you cry. "Ruth, Gherig DiMaggio!" But no. There are only dollar signs there now. Roid-heads, error-making pretty boys, mercenaries. That's the Yankess, friend. A pitiful organization indeed.
Quoth the Sarge, right here on the Jackblog, July 12, 2005: "Is Johnny "shitstain" Damon mildly retarded? Because based on his interview, I would say so."
Step back from the ledge, Sarge. It is a dark land you're surveying.
The gall. Dan, you of all people are in no place to attack me on grammatical faux pas. At least I know how to use an apostrophe and the difference between "you're" and "your." What do they teach you at that liberal bastion for decadence and sodomy you call a college? I mean besides how to take some man-sauce in your mouth while getting fucked in one's well-used ass, you cum dumpster of a human being.
And when, my good fellow, did I ever mention Mr. Damon? Your argument that just because I support a team, I also back every player on it, is such a non sequitur it isn't worth my time. At least our icon isn't now a frozen head on a stick.
There is no delusion here, my boy. Greatness thrives and is rewarded. Over and over again.
The game is afoot.
The gall. Dan, you of all people are in no place to attack me on grammatical faux pas. At least I know how to use an apostrophe and the difference between "you're" and "your." What do they teach you at that liberal bastion for decadence and sodomy you call a college? I mean besides how to take some man-sauce in your mouth while getting fucked in one's well-used ass, you cum dumpster of a human being.
And when, my good fellow, did I ever mention Mr. Damon? Your argument that just because I support a team, I also back every player on it, is such a non sequitur it isn't worth my time. At least our icon isn't now a frozen head on a stick.
There is no delusion here, my boy. Greatness thrives and is rewarded. Over and over again.
The game is afoot.
Thank you for reiterating your eloquent and touching post twice over. We're all happy to see your emminently creative and masterful use of linguistic turns-of-phrase (i.e. "cum-dumpster"... sheer brilliance...) as many times as possible.
Poor Sarge. If only you knew what institutions of higher education are like when your chosen profession isn't dominated by old rich favor-begging men. I'm up to my fucking neck in vag, because that's what liberal arts schools are all about: Chicks.
I'm sure that your "internships" involved many of the colorfully described details you mentioned in your last post, but that's just the lawyering trade, Sarge. In other trades--respectable trades--such things are eschewed in favor of intellectual betterment, creative expression, and limitless women.
I can hear the anger in your comment. It pounds at the walls of your skull like an ancient and arthritic senior partner's balls slapping against your chin as he crams his viagra-fueled wangus down your maw. I know why you're mad. You don't understand why you root for the Yankees, why you embrace evil and everything that's bad about America. I don't understand it either. Come back, Sarge. Don't let this kill your soul.
As for "when" you mentioned Johnny Damon, what part of July 12, 2005 don't you understand? I know you're going to try to spin webs of fancy terminology that you learned at the, ahem, "feet" of your barrister-masters, but that's neither here nor there. I point it out only to indicate that your love for the Yankees is clearly false. You blindly hate their enemies as you blindly love their allies. Your allegiance makes no sense. Abandon it like we all know you want to.
Until then, have fun getting coffee for the guy who actually gets to sit down in that picture ccs/jff posted.
Just for the record, Jackbloggers, I still love the Sarge deeply and profoundly. I just don't understand this part of his life.
Tell me dan, who do you think gets more "vag" (speaking of eloquence): the 26-year-old "student" who works at the library, or the 25-year-old lawyer who owns his own firm?
i love you too dan.
hmmm...I'd have to go with the "student" by four lengths. of vag.
But I'm sure the days at your "firm" and fun with those sultry fellows you're pictured with. You probably have lunch breaks with your Firm Partners that entail all kinds of Firm Fun. I wish I could provide you with stats on how many babes are currently seeking Master's of Library Science degrees, for the numbers are illuminating and alarmingly huge. But alas, I don't have the numbers because I'm too busy checking out all the fine bespectacled tail ebbing and flowing all about me.
What an awesome old-fashioned flame-war we're having! Who wants in on this?
also, why am I a "student" instead of a student when you get to be a lawyer instead of a "lawyer"?
That's not fair!
Tell me dan, who do you think gets more "vag" (speaking of eloquence): the 26-year-old "student" who works at the library, or the 25-year-old lawyer who owns his own firm?
didn't take long for you to become a douchey lawyer, did it??
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