Philitically Incorrect

For four games and eight innings, the lineup was a stellar example of veteran experience conjoined with youthful recklessness. You could say it was my own beautiful baseball ménage à trois. In case you're wondering, in that fantasy, I'm in the middle.  But just like all good things, Phillies fans found a way to be bitter. It's the first time since 1915 that the team started the season 4 - 0 and people were disappointed about losing the fifth. I figured out what went wrong. I bit into a carrot that was so hard my ears rang for an hour. This is why you should stick with Twinkies. My husband says I might want to take my medication.  My point is, the first two losses came in day games that followed night games.  I know the frustration. I've had day dreams about night things in the middle of the afternoon too. I know how distracting they can be. Like the Game of Thrones final season premiere this week. I'm making a prediction: My husband will fall asl...

At the tender age of two, my son pushed a Hot Wheels car into the VCR slot. And it fit. Little did I know, this is the same type of infantile curiosity that would birth an app called Tinder. On that note, I saw a report about the spread of super gonorrhea. This was enlightening to me because I figured out that all this time I've been spelling my password wrong. Judging from the slow spread of disease, things are not going well. In the four years since my last post, the Phillies have failed to break 500 and following suit, things have gone from bad to worse: Kim Kardashian's behind got even bigger. Her derrière will go down in history as the Crown Jewel of Butts. And our country has the dubious honor of putting her there. Well done 'Merica. The Voice  started season 16 after only 8 years on TV. Instead of measuring accelerated time in dog years, we'll start calling them Voice years. Oddly, Blake Shelton has been so pickled through it all, he hasn't aged a ...

The bad news is the Phillies dropped the first game of Spring Training. The worse news is, it was to the University of Tampa. I can honestly say I think the Phils were hoping that would go differently. Look on the bright side. Tampa is the No. 1 ranked team in the NCAA Division II. They easily edged out Taco Bell and Kentucky Fried Chicken for the spot. Maybe we can get a game against the Harlem Globetrotters? Or how about these guys: Donkey Baseball Interim and now possibly permanent club President, Pat Gillick, claims if the existing players stay healthy, a .500 season is attainable. In other words, our goal of mediocrity is well within reach. Speaking of Pat Gillick? Way to bring in new blood. What’s the problem? Wasn’t Kevin Bacon available? Bacon Made of Bacon I’ll be glad when the team is back in Philly. It’s embarrassing to lose to amateurs. Besides, I always get spring training confused with spring break. The former is when everyone who thinks they can score sho...

I’ll be honest. I don’t watch postseason trades. I find them as futile as foreplay after forty or light beer chasers. But when I read that the phenomenal uniform philler-outer, Jayson Werth, had been signed by a division rival, I burned my bra in defiance. Then I just had to buy a new one. That’s when I made an important discovery: Not everything expands when it’s cold. In this era of disclaimers, stipulations, and legal litigation, let me make one thing vividly clear: I’d still do Jayson Werth. But some people thought I’d take the news hard. Hard? Hell, at least he didn’t run up the phone bill and stick my toothbrush someplace dreary when he left. Besides, who can blame him? Like my husband said, “It's just a man taking care of his family." Considering a few years ago he questioned whether he’d ever play ball again, I take my hat off to him. Okay, maybe a few other pieces of clothing too. And the   Nationals : Was it an accident that a team hoping to fill i...

This morning I was greeted by a hair ball, a pet puke, and an offensive odor. Speaking of offensive, I should blog. I’ll start by singing the accolades of my favorite major league catcher. Wait, my husband says it’s too early in the day for me to sing. Actually, he says there’s never a reason for it. I’ll stick with typing and bad poetry. Carlos Ruiz is my half-pint hero. He may be small but he’s really six foot six inches of heart packed into two enormous thighs. I’ve sometimes used that same excuse myself. Like I say, “Does this ass make my pants look big?” Now, hindsight might be 20/20—and often makes experts out of liars, but I’ve posted a few blogs vying for the attention someone else deserves that prove I’ve loved Chooch from afar (only because of those new stalker laws). Last May, I even penned some cheesy poetry on his behalf and because my blogs aren’t worth reading the first time, let alone worthy of review, I’ll copy and paste it here (for your convenience): ...