Monday, November 01, 2004

Gettin' Antsy

I was talking to my grandpa this morning and he said, "Ho' snap. Shit's 'bout to go down tomorrow." And grandpa knows his shit. He actually voted for Polk and was a member of the Whig Party so he's seen his share of elections. But, as he swears, "He's never seen a sumbitch come down to the wire like this. Some motherfucka gon' be pissed as a motherfucka." Russert couldn't have said it better himself. Gramps told me to tell all of you that "you best get yo' lilly white ass to da' polls tomorrow. Chump don't vote. Chump can't bitch."

By the way, what happens to Russert after tomorrow (assuming, that is, that we actually know who our president is going to be and America's credibility won't resemble, say, Panama's)? He is kind of a "bear-like" animal, maybe he just goes into hibernation, passes Meet the Press over to Jim Miklashevski for a couple years and then re-emerges at mid-terms in 2006. Oh Russert! You sweet thing! Sleep tight!

I'm voting Acocella tomorrow and you should too.

--In other news, ex-Met firebrand Wally Backman is the new manager of the Arizona Diamondbacks. I read "The Bad Guys Won" this past summer. It's a look back on the lovable bunch of miscreant assbags that were the 1986 Mets. Apparently, Darryl Strawberry was fond of making fun of Wally's back, which was pockmarked from years of terrible acne (known as "back-ne"). Between golfclub-sized lines of coke, Straw liked to say things like "Nice back...man" and "Hey Zitboy." Congrats, Zitboy! The NL West is ripe for the taking. Take comfort in knowing that you are a major league manager and Straw is filled to the gills with Coke and some sort of grass fertilizer, living out of a halfway house in Tampa.

--My bocce ball team, "Bruce Bocce," won its inaugural match at the Floyd, NY Bocce Ball Tournament in Brooklyn yesterday. For any of you not familiar with "America's Other Pasttime," bocce ball is so amazingly difficult and requires such a high-level of honed and polished skill that a completely shitfaced hunchback with no prior bocce experience played on our team and we won (6-7, 7-1, 7-0). Think of the commitment! Way to go, Mike!

7 Comments:

At 2:10 PM, Blogger Gypsy Rose said...

shiiit... (translation = "golly") Chump gonna vote.

 
At 2:12 PM, Blogger Ace Cowboy said...

Dude, your gramps is awesome...He once told me: "Check it bleed, the bro was ON! Didn't trip, but the folks was freakin' man! Hey, and the pilots were laid to the bone, holmes! So blood hammered out and jammed jip, sheeeeet...Tighented that bad sucka 'side the runway like a mutha...Sheeeet."

Golly!

 
At 2:13 PM, Blogger Ace Cowboy said...

Wow, Gypsy, we had the same thought at the same time there...

 
At 2:15 PM, Blogger Gypsy Rose said...

Solid!

 
At 3:07 PM, Blogger Bart Starbux said...

Nice work, Donnie. But to be honest wichoo (Diane), I'm surprised. I expected a much more in-depth and insightful reconstruction of yesterday's action. The check-pantsed ferner, the shy tits, those other two chumps, the no-show, the big fro, the back-to-back 3-pointers in Game 2, the skunk in Game 3. There is so much material there. Break that shit down old school, bitch.

-bux

 
At 3:09 PM, Blogger Don Fiedler said...

I think everyone will join me in wishing Bart Starbux a very happy 27th birthday...you son of a bitch.

 
At 3:28 PM, Blogger Ace Cowboy said...

I refuse to wish that curmudgeon a happy anything, until he conducts the Vermont Youth Orchestra with his penis. Am I, am I supposed to conduct with my penis?

Birthdays are badder than hot.

 

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