Friday, April 30, 2010

May 1 2010 PHI v METS Game 2. Roy Deals, Shane Seals

Good morning, Followers. You must've taken notice by now of the enormous youth Trade-N-Card of your editor perched high above the mighty writings as the new face of The Big Sharkey Show. You can still see the scar on my upper-lip due to some asshole running into me in the school yard and biting it off a year prior (fucker). I figured if I was gonna try to win over the charms of those surrounding me at the National Library of Australia I would at least give them some good stroke material. First things first, you jack it then read it, OK? But since the goddamn place is closed until 1pm on Sundays I was forced to listen to the game with At Bat in the wog palace. Not a bad look considering I'd take the sultry sounds of L.A. over Wheels any day of the season. The Sarge needs the fulltime gig. So, before we go into todays game I'd like to share with you the back of said Trade-N-Card. After not seeing this thing for 21 years it kinda knocked me on my bottom (a word mid-wives use to describe where they speak from) when I read the reverse:

Favorite Pro: RICKY FUCKING JORDAN. That's right. 7 years old. I had good taste even in '89 and if anyone needs some good portraits done I'm sure Wayne could use the business. Alright, let's get to the meat of this crapola.....

The first day of May, Followers, and it already shows. The doldrum days of April have come and gone and we're back to form. Roy "Death Dealer" Halladay threw his 3rd complete game of the season like a mah' and the Big Pelf got sat down pretty fucking quick. It was a great response to yesterdays pasting we recieved by the mets gentle hand (I refuse to capitalize "mets" from here on in, it's the principle of the thing).

I, in typical depressing fashion, arose at 5am this morning to stream the radio feed like a good little dingus. A "tight pitchers duel" (which to me has the appeal of the new Train single) ensued for the first 3-and-a-half until the bats wakey-wakey'd in bottom of the 4th, a large inning. Utley mutedly hit a soft one to Reyes at short who fumbled around like a child in the snow for the ball and came up weak. Then Howard smacked a one-sacker to right. The Rooster takes the plate and pops a sure out for Pagan or Francoure into right center only to have his second-basemen, Alex Cora, come and fuck it all up deflecting the ball off his glove. Utley took a chance by not tagging up and it paid off. Chut scores on that boo-boo. Rual beefs it swinging sending up Juan Castro, a man who's done pretty swimmingly in the way of filling in for J-roll these past few outings.He flogs a double into right sending Big Piece and Rooster home. 3-0. Chooch and Death Dealer Halladay both single but Castro gets pegged at home trying to score by mets centerfielder, Angel Pagan. This brings up Victorino with 2 on, 2 out. The man they say has lost a step in the offense depot can give everyone the big flying bird because he delivered the deal-sealing, 3 run death blow by going yard on Big Turd. 6-0. Polanco grounds out to end the melee. Bye-bye Big Face. Up next on the mound for new york is Raul Valdez, clearly no match for my boy Utley who immediately smacks a double, clearly snapping his little slump and making this his first multi-hit game since the Braves series. Howard pops out, Rooster walks, men on the corners for Raul. It just becomes abusive at this point when Raul beats a triple out of Valdez clearing the bases. 8-0. The boys smack in 2 more for an end result of 10-0 Phils. The Doc shut 'em out with his 3rd complete of the year and his 5th win in red stripes (actually it was in cream alt colors but whatever, blow me). This was necessary. Moyer takes the rubber tomorrow with a chance to take the series. Bring it home!

Right now if the Nationals win they will sit in 1st place for the day. Willie Dee wants to know what the fuck is going on in this goddamn world?

Tomorrow the game is being shown live on espn here meaning I won't be going to the National Library so keep holding your breath, Followers. I WILL have the snapshots of the kid-fingering flankers that clog the seats of the internet lounge of the NLA in the coming week. If you really have hankering for people that look like kiddy-diddlers you could always just go to the Yo La Tengo myspace and look in their photo section.

What I may offer you, my mighty Followers, is a video of me fucking with my neighbor's "curb-guards" I guess you could call them. See photo below. This asshole places bricks and shingles on his curbside so people won't drive close to his piece of shit tree thats 4 feet away. The street is like 4 feet wide. I have been making sculptures with the bricks and shingles all week in the evening so that when they come home from work they find a house or little igloo waiting for them in front of their stupid tree that won't grow anyway because the only thing that grows in Canberra is contempt. I would like to convince these people they have a curse or hex on their house so tomorrow night I'm going to go rearrange the bricks in a long black, druid-like cloak around 10 pm. If my wife can still walk she'll be filming it. Maybe one of these dummies will catch me and try to stop me? Probably not. We'll see but until then fuck new york and teach your children well. BOOYAH!

fuck this


Willie Dee photo: ???
Halladay + Shane photos:
Getty Images
All other photos : Big John

Apr 30 2010 PHI v METS Game 1. Kendrick.....What A Fucking Nightmare

Presently I feel I'm ready for the day I catch my son jerking-off to gay porn. Nothing could be more demoralizing than watching the Phils lose this fucking bad to the Mets. This morning started off so promising, too. I woke up to a false labor alarm from the wife. That was fun and not stressful at all. Then I get to my beautiful vestige of sanity/den of molesters, The National Library of Australia, just as the game starts to see that Kyle Kendrick got through the first inning without giving up 8 runs. Good thing I only had to wait about 5 minutes for the Backstreet Boys loving slop chucker to give up a 2 run homerun to David Wright after a Jason Bay double and then another solo dinger to Francoure to give the 'Cans a 3-0 lead in the top of the second. We battled back by getting a whopping 1 run of an rbi single from Ruiz who seems to be the only player doing his fucking job besides Jayson Werth but it was all for naught. It was hit after hit for our foes up the turnpike and missed opportunities a plenty for the Fightin's. Frigid bats and first-pitch ground outs littered the bottom half of every inning at the CBP. It was abusive just watching it. I left the the child rapists and drove home after the 7th inning when reliever Danys Baez plunked Francoure on the elbow harder than times 29 then allowing the score line to soar to 7-1 as a result of the porkers taking advantage of it. I return to my wog palace only to see the score jumped even further over the cliff to 9-1 after the triumphant return of Brad "lights-off" Lidge. If feeling healthy = giving up a homer to the first batter you face all year then I never want a healthy closer again. The bats are gonna have to wakey-wakey, hands off snakey soon or we're in danger of digging a hole we can't claw our way out of. We can't keep relying on mercurial mound appearances and the long ball (which is playing the best game of hide-and-go-fucking-seek I've ever been privvy to). I just hope the return of Big Joe Blanton and J.A. Happ will reinvigorate the pitching staff to a modicum of success or we're gonna be in for a long summer, followers.

Much like a gay son, though, I still love my boys. They just really threw me for a loop today. I ain't mad atcha. It's still FUCKING APRIL! Not a reason fret just a bad outting. We can still win this series. Tommorow is another (Halla)day but right now life is shit. I guess I can go rub my pregnant wife's sore back or some dumb shit like that.

On a further depressing note I took a few snapshots of Canberra anti-drinking n' driving signs that are strewn around town. These really make the movie Moving Violations (1985, John Murray, Jennifer Knockers) seem like a grim reality.

I LOL'd at this BS. Notice the "Nigga Plz" lightly scrawled at the bottom. It really lights up at night in the shine of headlights. Kudos Canberran wiggers!

This has never happened to me. Ever.

Ok, this is just down-right morbid. I mean, I understand the median age of people in the ACT is 86 and you need to drive everywhere so most of these old fucks are going to die driving poorly but this sign is just a real dick move. You think some 97 year old who'd just lost his 79 year old son to a "I shit my pants behind the wheel" accident is going to want to be reminded of that the next time he gathers enough strength to haul his ass into the Holden?

I will soon post photos of the kid-fuckers that flank me daily at the National Library so sit tight my dear followers. I got like 3 in my first day! Keep alive and I'll see you all tomorrow for game 2. I wonder if my baby will come but for now fuck New York and eat some food.


Thursday, April 29, 2010

Introductory Paragraphs

photo by my stupid wife

Good day and Welcome to the first installment of THE BIG SHARKEY SHOW. Seeing as I am currently an unemployed sack I decided to devote my time not to the coming birth of my first child, the embetterment of the species or finding a job but to the only thing that matters in this smited world: The Philadelphia Phillies. I'm no expert or Sabermatrician virgin but I am funnier than 90% of the world's population and you will laugh at my words. The fact that at least 20% of the world speaks Mandarin doesn't hurt my standing, either.

A few things the editor would like to you know about himself.....

My name is John Sharkey III. I'm 28. Married. I like dogs, jackets, going to the gym, my Arab wife and Baseball. Delco by way of Philadelphia. Phillies fan since I was sliced out. I now am serving time in Canberra, ACT in Australia AKA Where Dreams And People Go To Die. It's truly the worst place I've ever been to let alone lived. Seriously, it makes Gary, IN look like Narnia. Here every driver is secretly a 16 year old Chinese girl driving to her first lesson and every man, once hitting age 50, turns in a whining entitlement monster content to spend the rest of his days standing in queue (line in American) complaining that his missus is being un-australian or that the queer behind tha counter talks to much, cunt. Simply, don't visit me.

Basically what's going to happen on this blog is on game day I'm going to wake up at either 6, 9,10am or noon, put on my clothes and drive to the National Library Of Australia to watch the Phils play on and then write about it. Simple. The reason I have to watch at the library while surrounded by pedophiles and Euros and Asians using online dating sites is because the internet in Australia is comparable to elderly coitus. I can't get a decent stream at my awful house. Really, this is all I have in my stupid life.

I'll see you all bright and early tomorrow as The Fightin's start a 3 game homestand against the Mets @ 7pm EST/ 9am fucking here. The next installment if I'm not bleeding to death should be shortly after the last out.
Until then Fuck New York and brush your teeth.