Philitically Incorrect

Now that Bryce Harper swiped right on the Phillies, the acquisition has created more buzz than the electric line that came down in another freaking area snowstorm.  By this time in Philadelphia, two things are evident: Punxsutawney Phil is full of crap and we need a distraction. That's where I come in. Since Harper has monopolized the headlines for weeks, it's time to make this all about me.  This whole ordeal had the makings of a Harlequin romance—tease you for 200 pages but never get you off. Until John Middleton tapped into his inner E.L. James.  I haven’t felt this level of enthusiasm since Hunter Pence crossed the Schuylkill with chicken legs . His signing excited me so, it was the beginning of the end of my contribution to Bleacher Report . Hey,  I did what I did because love came to town . Now I’m hoping Harp’s contract will be the start of something beautiful. I need new fodder and Broad Street is horny for another parade. Bryce Harper Ign...

When you do stand-up comedy you’re supposed to start with your second best stuff and finish with your finest stuff. That eliminates anything to do with my boobs. My husband says that eliminates any chance I have of doing stand-up. Thanks, honey. So the challenge is how to start this blog with something almost as funny as how I’ll end it based on a premise that’s pertinent to baseball. That narrows it down to my nose. The problem is it’s hard to show you via Bleacher Report that my honker takes the shape of a Phillies “P” when I’m cleaning it out with a Kleenex. Like my husband says, “I’ll make sure they carve Almost funny on your tombstone.” Let’s face it, most bloggers could give this up at any time. So what is it that drives us to attempt to capture the attention of those who peruse Bleacher Report? You could ask one of the Bob’s: Warja or Cunningham—they’re the heavy hitters. I’m about a buck soaking wet. I couldn’t keep up with them with a subscription to Elias Spor...