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!!!!!!