My Time With Keith #20

Bach: Spenny Chadwick, Cow Feed Refresher and Soap Box Derby Runner Up

Keith: Wrinkles Jawcircle, Inventor of Waffle Fries and Three Time Badger Exterminator

Reverting to Papyrus

Screw this information superhighway thing! I don't need your carpel tunnel inducing keyboard and your retina searing LCD screen to instantly put my loony ideas and raving mad thoughts to a limitless audience. All's I need to get my thoughts out are good old fashioned pen and paper!

I'm gonna get published! GOODBYE MR. INTERNET!

Crap. The dog just finished eating the last pieces of my spiral-bound, and Rick the book-man keeps telling me to stop calling or he's going to hit me upside the cranium with an aluminum baseball bat.

Uh...

Forget what I said, Senor World Wide Web! I was just kidding!

Please let me back into your warm, sweet embrace. I shiver without you. I yearn to rest my head your soft, ample bosom!

PLEASE!

please?

Solutions

What do you do when your team loses their last home game of the season four years in a row? When you follow up a heartbreaking Game 7 loss to an inferior eventual champion with two soul crushing last-day collapses in your own park? When you haven't won your last game at home since Bush's first term in office? Do you figure out the root cause of these flamouts? Do you address those issues with smart scouting and wisely appropriated money?

Sure, you could do that. But, eh...

Let's just tear the whole place down. You kill the location, you drown the mediocrity, right?

Goodbye Shea Stadium! You were a place where dreams went to die and choke artists went to impregnate each other and multiply. Good riddance!

Hello Citi Field! You are a wonderful palace of possibilities where the Marlins can't possibly hold our dreams hostage and execute them on national television. Hail the new king of opulent, soon-to-be-renamed-because-its-namesake-is-oh-so-close-to-filing-bankruptcy, Ebbets Field inspired ballparks!

Here's to Opening Day! Nothing bad can happen anymore! Nothing!

Fuck you, Tom Glavine! Sure, a deaf, retarded squirrel could give up 7 runs in the 1st inning, but at least he'd have the decency to give a shit about it!

BAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

My Time with Keith #19

Bach: Switch Legs LaPresti, Failed Gubernatorial Assassinator and Talented Arm Pit Chemist

Keith: "Shinin" Diamond Rechant, French Foreign Legion Triple Stripe Mastermind and Known Jazz Dancer

My Time with Keith #18

Bach: Professor Thorwald von Moses, Gobstopper Swallowing Champion and Weekend Pheasant Conquistador

Keith: Plasticon Fairchild, Kenyan Botanist and Four Time Herpes Survivor

The Age Old Question

Which is more appetizing: shit-covered jelly or jelly-covered shit?

Shit-covered jelly seems like the obvious choice. Usually, the item being covered makes up the majority of the delicacy. With chocolate-covered strawberries, it is 80% strawberry, 20% chocolate. So, you would mostly be eating jelly, with just a small handful of shit.

On the other hand, enjoyable food is all about first impressions. With jelly-covered shit, the first taste is the jelly. So, for those few seconds, it would all jelly, all deliciousness. Only later would you discover the shit.

But then again, some might argue that enticing food is all about the after-taste that it leaves. Clearly, the winner in this category is the shit-covered jelly. The shit would be out of the way by the time the jelly had a lasting effect on your taste buds.

However, when it comes to appearances, another huge part of any delectable treat, jelly-covered shit wins hand-down. Something covered in shit looks repulsing. Something covered in jelly looks scrum-diddly-umptious. If you're trying to pick which one to eat from a box of sugary snacks while relaxing in your recliner watching Sportscenter, your eye is going to tell you to choose the jelly-covered shit.

The conclusion: there is no right or wrong choice. Together, no matter which is inside or outside, they make an unbeatable combination. Seperate, they are nothing. In other combinations, they are merely okay. Jelly with peanut butter is nice, but nothing special. Shit in the toliet makes too much sense. But, as a union, they have the power to surpass the hot dog and the hamburger as the American delicacy.

My Time with Keith #17

Entire conversations consisting solely of making up crazy fake people? Yes, that's My Time With Keith.

Bach: Ricky Pimento, Executive Throne Scrubber and Rabbi-by-Night

Keith: Henderson Steelfish McFly, Middleweight Predator and Tapestry Admirer