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Fuck baseball! It's Paul Weller's birthday!
by Jim Sells
Today is the birthday of one of my few heroes in this world - Paul Weller. Godamighty, The Jam, The Style Council and his solo ventures changed my world and many others including Noel Gallagher and Ocean Colour Scene. The Fucking Modfather, people! If you don't know, then you best learn . . .
Anyway, you knew we were gonna talk some hardball regardless of the title, so here we go - Kyle Davies broke one off on the Mets Tuesday, with a three-run homer and eight solid innings of one-run pitching. Big Bob Wickman wrapped it up to get some work in and, lo and behold, the Braves after a 4-6 road trip stomp some Mets ass and get back to within a game and a half of the division lead. That's the fifth time in seven games against the Braves that the Mets have come up sucking tailpipe. If I were Willie Randolph, I'd just be looking to get out of the ATL with some self-respect and maybe the division lead . . . in other news about the Bravos, they finally cut Mark Redman and are actively looking for a fifth starter. This comes quick on the heels of Craig Wilson being shown the door (as in "don't let it hit you in the ass").
I told y'all the Tribe would be tough (half-game up on Detroit as I write this). 17-4 at home is strong as train smoke. I know they're playing with fire with Borowski closing but, hell, half of the major league teams are throwing question marks out every night trying to find a closer worth his salt. Solomon Torres has 11 saves and who the hell is Al Reyes? However, you NEED to know who Grady Sizemore is. Grady Sizemore, in a major media market, would already be a nationally-known star with his combination of power, speed and g-love. The Pale Hose are three-and-a-half games back and Ozzie's callin' radio shows to drop cluster f-bombs AND GETS CUT OFF/HUNG UP ON/ETC. BWAHAHAHAHA! . . . and the Deathwatch goes on.
The Brewers continue to be for real and the rest of baseball is catching on to these silent assassins. No media pimpin'; no real push from MLB or Fox or anyone else; no one cared until this year . . . they just come to town and take two of three, then turn around and show up on "The Young and The Restless". Must be nice . . .
I appreciate the comments on who changed the way you heard music. Michele pointed out one I dropped that was obvious (Black Sabbath) and Jody the chancepoet pulled one up that didn't come to mind quickly but deserved consideration upon further thought (Counting Crows). Holly had her tete a tete with Robby Van Winkle, reality show star supreme and Bill whipped out Thomas Dolby on us - SCIENCE!
So . . . here's the next question/my contest for FTTW's first anniversary:
what is your favorite album to fuck to?
There. Is that concise enough for you perverts and heathens that compose my readership, all seven-and-a-half of you? Name the work that is your fave for rubbin' fuzz and any stories concerning you and your freakiness that you wish to contribute to the discussion as well. I'll pick the winner totally subjectively. The only guidance I will give is that the more graphic and scatological accounts will receive added consideration, because they can be used to fill column space next week and will add spice to the mix. Hell, I might even tell y'all mine . . .
It's also Klaus Meine's (Rock You Like A Hurricane) and Miguel Tejada's birthday but they're nowhere near as cool as Paul Weller . . .
Finally, Carl Pavano is the guy whose head was shoved into the toilet at summer camp and Jason Giambi is the guy who's always picking at some scab that he can't leave alone. "Stuff"? Dude, if you can't say steroids legally, you think maybe you should shut the fuck up before you find yourself banned for . . . I dunno, a year? Jesus, that is incredible. And, yeah, I like Jason Giambi. I think he's fun to watch hit and hit only, 'cause my car fields better than he does. I think baseball needs free spirits like him and here he goes free spiriting around the edge of banishment. It boggles the mind.
Ok, remember the contest and go buy all the Jam albums you can afford. Me and Big Bob Wickman are taking Kyle Davies to find a barbecue buffet.
Y'all stay outta trouble - ain't nobody here got bail money.