Monday, May 31, 2010

May 30 2010 PHI v FLA Game 3. The Party Is Over. The Phamine Continues

Put you fucking party hats back in the basement and punch a hoagie down your throat for comfort because the Fightin's are still the swinging dead. Despite being hot on the heels of Halladay's new t-shirt inducing feat of seldom matched brutality we're already residing back in Shitsville. Another game, another shutout, 5 in the last 2 weeks. Yesterdays 0-1 loss to the Marlins was just every bit disheartening as yesterday was inspiring. Most figured the perfecto from Halladay would bolster some kind of moxy from the batting order but yet again we come up blank and it's starting to actually fucking piss me off. It's not as if we savaged the Marlins for Roy-boy either, a lucky error kept that game in the 9 innings frame. We also haven't been facing wildly intimidating opposing pitchers so what's the rub? What has happened to our entire batting order that causes these empty testicles night after night. Something surely has us by the karmic balls when Jayson Werth goes 0 for however many at bats this series, whiffing 4 times alone just yesterday. There has to be a logical explanation for not a measly home run in 60 odd innings from any Phil. Are their wives on a quim strike? Is J-Roll's absence that devastating? Can you lose it like this overnight? Just like that?

I love looking over the severe hyperbole used in internet headlines about how shit the offense has been. Here are a couple of my favs:
"Drawing Another Blank"

"Goose Eggs Galore: Phillies Shut Out Yet Again"

"Remember Yesterday?"

"Did You Know Philly Has A Soccer Team Now?"

"These Fucking Assholes Suck Today" 

Ok, so I made the gentler ones up. What can I say? I'm a kind man. Editorializing like this keeps a man sane in times of drought.  

There is no answer for these questions and that why it is such horseshit. Living on luck gets you far in this game but not all the way. You gotta it out and eat horse-cock sandwiches like the rest of us. Staff contributor Chuck was the first person to call it The Phamine. I've always liked that term, it perfectly sums up the feelings of player and phan alike. They got nothing to feed us. We can't even bitch about starting pitching, not when a 47 year old can make a team of strapping young men look like 3rd place prom queens. We know the muscle and power is there. It's like an AIDS test. Wish and wait. That's all I gotta say about it.

                            ME WITH MY NEW HAT AND FRIEND FROM THE LIBRARY!!!!!

 Today brings a new series with The Knaves, a team we easily could savage if we wanted to. This bullshit has to stop now or we drop into second place. Blanton v Hanson....what's it gonna be? 2/3 is on my mind every time they walk into a different park. 

My stupid family are showing up today in Sydney. I get to leave Canberra for a whole 7 hours to pick them up. I feel better already. Perhaps when I return it will be to the sight of my wife and child manning the sole chopper left in the obliterated charred, skeletal remains of this strong nation's capital. I know this fucking Library will still probably we standing. Until tomorrow, Loyal Fightin's Followers, fuck new york and keep the phaith, mmmwaaaaaaaaacka, wacka, wacka.....


Sunday, May 30, 2010


First Dio, then Coleman and now Dennis Hooper. They say death comes in 3s but my money was on Joe Buck. I'm not gonna get all mushy but the man was a hell of an actor and human. An authentic mad-man that inspired losers really into the Rolling Stones to act crazy at college. Only he swam in pussy and they played the part as one. Sometimes you gotta put the gun to the back of her head and blow her brains right out the front. It's love, man. Baby wants to fuck in heaven. From the staff here at TBSS; farewell, sweet prince.


May 29 2010 PHI v FLA Game 2. Just Another Day At The Park, No Big Deal.

I'm sorry, Followers, but today is gonna be a short edition of The Clog. Really, there isn't really much to pour over when all I have to work with is a 1-0 situation. Cameron Maybin dropped a routine fly ball off the bat of Chutley allowing Exxon Valdez to spill across home plate. That's it. 9 innings, one run. I mean, unless you give a shit about the fact that ROY THE FUCKING DEALER OF DEATH HALLADAY PITCHED A PERFECT GAME!!! then I guess we could talk a bit more about last night's game.

For the 2nd time in Phillies history a starting pitcher has sat 27 consecutive players on their asses, the first being cocksman Jim Bunning in 1964 against the trash in Flushing at Shea Stadium. Now it's time for Halladay to brand his name on the ass of baseball with the 20th perfect outing in the games history, putting 11 K's on the board along the way. Even the Marlins commentators were fucking pumped. It was one of the happiest, proudest moments of my life.

Somewhere around the 5th inning I started to get the feeling that I bothered to get out of bed for another day of awful life for a legitimate reason. I wasn't worried about the "don't talk about it" jinx, who the fuck was I going to tell. By the time the 7th inning rolled on by I knew this wasn't just a shitty team we were pitching to, it was something I might tell my stupid ungrateful kids one day. By the bottom 9th I was, for the most part, shitting my pants. when Wes Helms got sat the fuck down for out 2 I knew, Halladay knew, James Hetfield knew, Everyone knew we were gold. Ronny Paulino gave a good effort to blow one by Castro but forget it, son. Sit. The. Fuck. Down. Glory time.

My boys Castro and Valdez really stepped up, supplying ample defense for the seldom hit ball towards left. I'm not gonna lie, I did begin the game by asking the computer screen  "Where the fuck is Polanco? Fuck this!" But I eat every once of crow in front of me as I still stand erect several hours later. This boner signifies a great day in the pantheons of Philadelphia defensive substitutions.

             One of the many photographic reasons I will never truly be a Hockey fan

On a sad note, The Flyers lost a fierce battle last night, going toe-to toe with the Chicago Blackhawks in game one of the Stanley cup Finals. A 5-6 loss ain't much for the folks of Delco and Fishtown to cry about but I know these maniacs want a parade. Please keep the domestic calls to a minimum, thank you. I'm not gonna front, I'm not a hockey fan and refuse to jump on the bandwagon but I fully support my Philadelphian brothers and sisters in their thirst for glory. I say if we take Monday night's game we'll be all apples and assholes. Go Floooooooiiiiyers!!!

So on this glorious day, my sweet Followers, I bid you good day and until tomorrow fuck new york and sweep them mets, Brew-boys. They lost again today!


Saturday, May 29, 2010

May 28 2010 PHI v FLA Game 1. Phinally It Has Happened To Me

                                                 excuse me, collective ass.......

Well, Followers....The Phamine came to an end with last night's 3-2 victory over the Fish thanks to a drought breaking Ibanez RBI triple and a new found aggression on the base path. It was bound to end and I'm glad it ended when it did. I don't know how many more losses I could've written about before mailing random strangers aka all of my wife's friends bag of my own shit. You know, anything to kill the depression of a Phillies loss/life in Canberra is no sin in God's eyes.

Although Kyle Kendrick almost fucked us in the ass with a throwing error to Howard allowing Gabby Sanchez and Chris Coghlan to score, the kid pitched a quality start, going 6 giving up 5 hits and 2 earned. He may be coming into his own but it's really day-to day with Kylie as the contractions every 10 days are just too far apart to go to the delivery suite. 0-2.

A week of sorrow and beaten wives had finally come to an end last night at the hands of one Raul Ibanez, driving a monster liner to center in the top 4th allowing Big Piece to score thus breaking the 30 innings of big fat fucking donuts on the scoreboard. Big Piece knocked in a base stealing Utley an inning later to tie up the tubes. 2-2. 

The game winning sequence came in the 7th with Victorino and Valdez at 1st and 2nd and Chutley at the plate.  Chut gets the 1-1 pitch and the Victorino/Valdez double-steal comes down like a fudge hammer in the Marlin's ass. Chutley lines it to Hanley Ramirez knocking in Vic for a 3-2 lead, the first fucking lead the Phils had had for almost a week. I then finally untied my wife and fed her some crackers.  2 out of 3 runs that crossed the plate were the result of aggressive baserunning, something the Phils have been gingerly at best with so far. Fightin's, please take note of this. It works.

Durban and Baez went strong in the 7th and 8th and Jose, Jose Fucking Quite Contreras put a nut or two in our throats but got it done for his 3rd career save. Game over. Phinally. Good work, men.

Honorable TBSS mention goes out my boy Corey Fucking Hart for smashing a 2-run walk-off smash in the bottom 9th, sticking his sausage up the mets ass last night, further proving my theory that the mets had nothing to do with the blanking the Philles had handed them. From all of us here, Corey Hart; we salute you!

Halladay's got the rock against Josh Johnson tomorrow night in what's estimated to be quite the pitcher's duel aka a boring fucking game. Let's hope the one run that scores is dressed in grey, white and red. Until next time fuck new york and LET'S GO BREWERS!!!!


Friday, May 28, 2010

May 27 2010 PHI v NYM Game 3. Like A Witch's Tit

                      Dramatization of mets series 05/25 - 05/27, 2010. Courtesy of PPD

My family dog of 17 years, Socks, was put down yesterday. It's been a bad time around the Sharkey Household from what my father tells me. He likened it to when my brother died. My parents were devastated. I was too young to really remember this. I will always liken it to when the Phillies went 27 scoreless consecutive innings to the mets.

I'm not gonna throw numbers around like a dickhead. I know it's been a long fucking time since this has happened. I just wanted to to put that out there.

What do you want me to say, Followers? Another great start from Hamels and it's thrown into the fucking drink like a used tire. So many runners in scoring position, so many double plays. Last night's sweeping 0-3 loss to the mets is an embarrassment to any of us Phaithful walking the earth with the "P" emblazoned on our persons, I know I never leave the house unarmed.  Fuck, this stinks, they stink and I hope they get fucking booed at the airport on the way to Florida because the ones that are hurting the most won't get another crack at them until June 4th. They're making us look like fools. It's time for marshall law to be given back to the Phans. I think the team needs to know that we can hate them again, even if we don't. I know I never will. A good scolding never hurt anyone and we know Chollie's not gonna do it. Put the fear back in the stands. There's gotta be some fire put under their asses. Werth's beard removal didn't work, God bless him. Motherfuckers better get some new cleats.

                   Hey Cole, could you somehow throw them negative runs?

It couldn't be any other team to lose to could it? We had to hit this drought just in time to give the scrubs in Flushing some kind of tawdry confidence. Now they probably think they are a good team again. Shit, we could've been swept by the September '07 mets playing with these bats. It's just a case of scheduling + The Phamine. This can be shattering if we don't realize we're still the Phillies pretty fucking soon. I know it will end but the question is when? Yesterday? The day before?

I get to watch the game 1 of the Marlins series at home because it's going to be shown on Fox. I guess it's time the friendly philanderers get a day rid of my hand-muffled screams of horror. It's time to show my new kid what real pain looks like. I know you got ripped into this world with a pair of forceps, kid but that shit was peach and cake compared to baseball. We have the Fish in their house and Kendrick has the mound. I can't say I feel confident at all but a man needs hope like he needs a maid.

Until tomorrow......yeah you know where this is going.


Thursday, May 27, 2010

May 26 2010 PHI v NYM Game 2. A Look Into Your Editor's Struggle

When I was 12 year old a fellow classmate of mine pulled the chair out from my ass as I was sitting down in Civics class. I landed hard on my tailbone and in the following weeks noticed a strange swelling at the base of my ass-crack. I talked to my parents about this new lump and was informed that Pilonidal cysts ran in my family. This is a cyst that forms on the end of your tailbone and is fed by bacteria that reaches the cyst through 3 tiny tracks in the skin. They look like pinholes in the skin. My parents actually met in the hospital as my mother and grandfather were having theirs removed. My dad got the brush from old mom but creeped a look at her hospital bracelet and memorized her address. He showed up at her door a few days later, much to my grandparent's chagrin having met John Jr on the day of her operation. Nevertheless, one year later I was born with their bullshit affliction. 

I went 9 years without any formal diagnosis or treatment but things seemed to be under control. It occasionally bled or seeped but that was nothing to be alarmed about, I could handle a leaky crack every now and again. But in the autumn of my 22nd year the pain and discomfort began to escalate. This shit was becoming too much for me to handle. I couldn't sit down properly or for very long, it bled like a motherfucker whenever I did. I decided to get it looked at and removed.

My operation was a quick procedure and an apparent success. Supposedly as I came to I asked my nurse to climb into bed with me. Even in my weakened state I was bird-dogging. Not like I could do much with a saddle-block. I was numb from the waste down for 6 hours post-op. That was a fucking nightmare, pissing with a numb dick and balls. I became belligerent and vocal about my discomfort with the nurses and was cordoned off in a separate recovery area but after it all I walked away a healthy man.

2 months later I felt a familiar swelling in that same area accompanied with a slight tearing of the scar tissue from my operation. "This can't fucking be..." I said to myself. Not fucking again. I went back to the quack fuck who cut my ass open and showed him my reoccurring stigmata. His simple smug reply was "yeah, this sometimes happens. I really can't do anything about it and your insurance won't cover another operation." I could have murdered his family. This cunt did a botch-job on me and now he's telling me I'm up the creek? It wasn't like it was years between flare-ups, it was 2 months, maybe even a few days short of 2 months. The original flares would happen once every 6 weeks prior to his stellar work. I can still see his wispy white hair and null expression.

So ever since 2003 things have worsened, so much that I can't go more than a few hours without going into the shitter to squeeze the bloody puss that would leak all over my jeans into a wad of toilet paper. It usually takes 2-3 squeezes at a time. This is necessary on average 8 times a day and is extremely painful. I also have to shave my lower back every few weeks and sporadically go on severe anti-biotics to bring down the ungodly swelling. Its fucking bullshit. 

This hurts me everyday and is an incredible imposition on my soul. The pain never ceases. This feeling of infuriating helplessness and self-disgust is nothing compared to how I felt after last night's Phillies game.


Wednesday, May 26, 2010

May 25 2010 PHI v NYM Game 1. Phuck You World

What can I say ? It's been a week of demoralizing loses at the hands of teams beneath our playing ability. It's fucking infuriating. The lesser man in me wants to call all knuckle-ball pitchers fucking cheating faggots and hope someone with greater means than I shoves R.A. Dickey's  right hand into a wood-chipper in a sort of morbid re-imagining of that scene in Kingpin. You fucking know the one. Yes, I know this kind of attitude is counter-productive in every way but the fantasy kept me from beating my wife all day. You can't take that away from me. I kid, I kid but I'm sure there were a few domestic calls to certain precincts south of Washington Avenue last night. That you can blame on no-one but the Phils. It's their fault, really.......

Last night's game was typified in every aspect by the top second inning. Howard singles on a line drive off of Dickey's elbow, which was awesome, and then Rooster and Raul followed suit. Bases loaded. The Landscaper of Sanity has all the power in his little, powerful Panamanian hands with no fucking outs. What happens? A fucking ground out to Dickey and 1-2-3 double play. Moyer fucking strikes out 2 batters later. Result of this inning: zero runs, much like the rest of the fucking game. No runs, not one. 0- 8 loss. To the mets. Just typing this makes me want to commit genocide.  I've been avoiding the computer and ESPN all day, instead being a normal person who doesn't let strangers dictate his mental state of being. I actually got a furious dizzy spell that induced mild vomiting as a result of this game. I'm serious, it makes me physically ill when the Fightin's play like this. It's not their fault, they are men who do their job very well for the most part. I've just become unhealthily desperate for the win. This is fucked. The game has become a detriment to my health. I know this sounds silly that a man of my proclivities and physical prowess would let a simple test of bats and balls dictate my happiness but it has become a sobering truth. I really wake up everyday throbbing for the game. It's the first thing I do everyday, sometimes I wake up at 3am to watch day-games and I often have dreams of the game to be, something like 3-4 nights a week. I feel like I'm in the beginning stages of entitlement that comes with the winning team, Yankee's Fan Syndrome (This is not a good feeling but I feel it's nothing like the smug cock-sucker blues those Jay-Z fans up the turnpike really feel when their show-ponies lose it so I write off these self-accusations). On off-days I feel listless and have a air of worthlessness wash over me. Off days after a loss are even worse. I'm a terribly unhappy shithead until they pull it together again and sometimes that doesn't happen. It's awful. I wouldn't have it any other fucking way. Someday my son will feel this way.Go get 'em tonight, Phils. WIN! I might murder my family if not. Definitely my in-laws.

So, Followers, to conclude today's semi-psychotic rant I will liken last nights play to the auspicious performance of one Godfrey Zaburoni, a 31 year old Zimbabwean ex-pat acrobat who's been pasted on every news outlet in Australia for the last 2 days with the charge of knowingly cramming HIV into12 women's vaginas. This clown was a contestant on the utter waste of a network slot Australia's Got Talent program and and is a complete ass-hat. Imagine catching AIDS from this dickhead. I think I'd rather scrape the lining of Joan Rivers' uterus on live television than have to come forth as one of the "hundreds of women" that have let this turd hit it raw.

Of course they revel in the fact that this guy is AFRICAN. I guess when you're an ex-pat and you start giving people HIV your Australian citizenship is automatically revoked. Good thing I'm going for that as we speak.....

Until tomorrow, my dear fucking Followers, fuck new york and please fucking beat the shit out of these cunts tonights.


P.S. Happy Birthday Al Jolson

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Shit That Wouldn't Fly In America Vol. 1

Good morning, Followers!!!! Since there was no baseball last night I'm going to share a few things I've noticed on the Island that would simply not ice the cake back in The States (United, America). Let's get Volume 1 of Shit That Wouldn't Fly In America started with some light-hearted racism!!!!

I guess you could classify this as shit that wouldn't fly in America post 1960. The first international Rugby League player to come from butt-fuck Toowoomba, Queensland was Edward Stanley Brown, affectionately nicknamed "Nigger" because of his dauntingly pale skin tone. You get it, right? Now it doesn't surprise me that the denizens of Toowoomba would use this loving moniker for a fellow Toowoomban without a second thought because most people from Queensland fuck their siblings and hate brown people. What takes most useful adults by surprise is that good ol' E.S. was honored by his lovely hometown with the naming of a stand at the local Football ground after him.


Aboriginal activists, The International Convention on the Elimination of all Forms of Racial Discrimination and even the United Nations have gone after the town of Toowoomba to get his taken down and the word "nigger" removed from E.S.' tribute. Their response: "Nah, son". In 2008 The top dog in charge of the Toowoomba Sports Ground Trust, John McDonald, said the name would stay. What balls? Even the Mayor of Toobuttfinger, Peter Taylor, has stood in allegiance with the stand, stating that removal would be an offense to a fine footy player and in no way is this sign offensive to Aboriginals. 

                                        Here's Darky!!!

The end to this business came only 24 hours after John McDonald put his foot down about the stand, when he came to an agreement with Sports Minister Judy Spence and declared it to be taken down and have the word "nigger" used nowhere on the grounds. That was fast.

This removal came with great jubilation from Stephen Hagan, the Aboriginal activist who spearheaded the entire campaign against the stand and could be noted as the sole individual responsible for its eradication. His litigious persistence pretty much put a foot in the ass of E.S. Browns' adorable stand. He and his wife, Rhonda Hagan put together a documentary about his plight tastefully entitled Nigger Lovers in 2007. It's prolly on Netflix.

See, ya learn something new about the progressive rest of the world everyday, America! God, it sucks being an ignorant, narrow-minded Yank. Mmmmmmmmmm sad John.... Boy, I have a lot to learn and a long way to go. I guess I can console myself by punching an entire block of this down my throat like a chubby, single 39 year old hair-dresser:

Let's hope The LawnMoyer Man and the boys can do to the mets what Stephen did to this sign tonight, 7:10 pm @ citifield. Until tomorrow, Followers, fuck new york and listen to your heart.


Monday, May 24, 2010

May 23 2010 PHI v BOS Game 3. Halladay Not Robot, Big Fucking Surprise

You know he's not a fucking demi-god, he's a pitcher. Any ace can be slapped around no matter how many stupid t-shirts internet companies want to print up and hock to morons like me that will tell you otherwise. The mighty Roy Halladay gets lit up for 6 earned runs in 6 innings and all we can muster is 8 innings of shutdown offense to a knuckle-baller who gets less work than a Klansman at a North Philly soup kitchen. Roy Halladay can have days like this just like Greg Dobbs can have days where he goes 2 for 5 and call it genius. Yes, it was his 3rd straight game without a W outcome but it's not entirely his fault when shit happens behind him like Dobbs letting 2 runs roll between his fucking legs. It's just a bad game. All the whiners crying Cliff Lee's fair name only want to remember game one of the Series last year and neglect to recall last August. Halladay's gonna get lit up just like Lee did; they're fucking men not slogans. Take a deep breath and realize that 3.5 into first is a pretty nice place to be sitting toward June 1. Things will get better or worse but we'll all still be here, cheering or bitching. Fuck, I do enough of the latter to make my own ears bleed. Calm the fuck down and enjoy it. 

A game recap would be pointless to anyone who reads this clog but for the sake of history I'll battle though it but I'll keep it brief.

Halladay looked at medium force from the get-go, giving up a as many hits as Tim Wakefield in the first 3 innings but not having the defense to stop Sox from crossing home plate. Early runs seemed to drain any confidence from Roy and make the Phillies offense eager to swing at garbage. It was pop-up city pretty much. We didn't even get on the board until the bottom 9th from an RBI double by Raul and a 2 run jack from Ross Gload. Too little, too late but it's better than another shutout, boys.


Kevvy Youkilis had a productive afternoon, taking Roy-Boy for a triple in the 3rd and a solo shot in the 6th. After that jack 4-0 seemed like a dooming scoreline. It didn't help when they manufactured 3 more, two of which were a result of a completely retarded throw to 3rd from Castro after a single up the middle. The throw itself was fine but the thing is....there was no one at or heading to fucking 3rd. 7-0. They tack one more on in the top 8th with a Beltre sac-fly.

End result: 3-8, series to the Sox. The only enjoyable part of the game came at Youkilis' expense when he got beaned in the dome with the cut-off thrown from Chutley to third after that triple but that feeling was fleeting at best.

It's fucking balls that we hand them these games every time these fucks come to town. Fuck it, we got the day off and then the trip up the pike to Flushing on Tuesday. Maybe some road work can get the minds right and help us forget this last weekend for a few weeks until we have 2 weeks of the inter league garbage.

Now, Followers, I'd like to share some ha-has with you. I went into this joint called Wokinabox a few days ago to eat some shitty food. As I was being accosted by the overly friendly 14 year old looking 40 year old Asian girl behind the counter I grabbed a menu to make my selection a little more informed. I scanned over the choices and came across an item of considerable concern. 

Yeah, I thought maybe they just fucked up their hand menus but looked up at the house menu and what do I see? Pud Thai, a house special, a way of life. Not Pad, Pud. They really have no idea what they are shilling here. Do I really have to go into how retarded this looks? Nah, son. I'm sure it tastes very unami, just like every other ball sack I've tried.

Until next time, my dear Followers, fuck new york and fuck new york.


Sunday, May 23, 2010

May 22 2010 PHI v BOS Game 2. It Wasn't A No Hitter At Least.

Nah, Followers, I'm not gonna comment on how poorly the Phil's bats fared last nights. I'm not gonna talk about how Kyle Kendrick is making the whole "who gets taken out of the rotation when Happ is healthy?" decision extremely fucking evident. I'm not gonna go into J-Roll's grade 1 calf strain, it'll be fine, he's a fucking warrior. The only thing I will say about our appalling 1 hit game last night is Fuck you, Matsuzaka! Nobody's gonna remember a fucking 1-hitter! Good fucking work, Juan Castro! Your one hit made my day.

                                              I go pee-pee in your game

I shouldn't be so brash, he did put on a hell of a show, especially when he grabbed what was sure to be the end of his no-hitter out of the sky. A fucking bullet off the bat of the Rooster that was destined for the grass in center field and this prick just plucks it our of the air! Good for you, Dice-K. Just don't ever fucking try it again, cool?

The Death Dealer has the mound tomorrow. Let's hope our bats decide to fucking wake up and support those corny t-shirts everyone is wearing. Every 5 days is a HALLADAY!!!!!, wacka wacka wacka.... Shut up.

In completely unrelated news I'm getting sick of strange dickheads wanting to hold my 3-week old. Seriously, if I don't know you, go fuck your sister over a table saw. I don't care if you're 90 years old and full of knowledge, you're also a walking, crackling bag of disease and you scare the shit out of me! How do you think someone that's 21 days old into this shitty world is going to fare looking at your wrinkled circle of shitty parts you call a face. Just leave my kid alone.

I'll be screen printing these. If any new shitty parents are interested hit me up:

As always fuck new york and fuck off you weird random prick, go shit one out yourself.


Saturday, May 22, 2010

May 21 2010 PHI v BOS Game 1. Sox Can't Snuff The Rooster, Hamels Throws Cheese At Beans

Good morning, my minionous Followers and what a glorious one at that! The birds are chirping and shit here in the country buttfuck town masquerading as a Capitol City. The old people are dying, the young people are crying and the Phils took game one of inter league play from Francona and the bean-townies. Cole Fucking Hamels laid the hammer down going 7 with 8 Ks, giving up 1 run from 3 hits and The Rooster took it about 427 feet into John Lackey's vagina in a 5-1 victory.

Top 1st. Hamels on the mound. The grim feeling that Cole may have an off night was bobbing on the horizon as he gave up a solo dinger from the get-go to Victor Maritinez but that shit-filled schooner promptly sank along with the Sox hopes as Cole put a tourniquet on it. In true "I'm a man, don't tell me what the fuck to do" fashion, Cole took a deep one and struck out Kevin Youkilis and cut the pecker off what seemed to be the only rally the Sox would get all game. I guess you could say Hamels gave them a case of Colio, wonk,wonk,wonk.....OK, fuck you.

Three innings and eternities pass in pitcher duel monotony and the fans are waiting for Phireworks. The Big Piece and the Fucking Rooster had all the dirty illegal shit you get in Ohio, none of this pussy snakes and party-popper shit. Bottom 4th, Howard takes it the other way and sends it into the left field laps. 1-1. Rooster reaches on a seriously retarded play by J.D. Drew. If a pop up in a night game falls in right field of CBP infront of 2 Red Sox would it make a sound? Yes, it sounds like Werth reaching second and an RBI from Shane Beefarino. Viccy whacks a single to drive in Werth from second. 2-1.

I'm gonna let TBSS correspondent Layne Staley handle this next inning for me. Layne....

Can't snuff the ROOOOOOOOOOOSTER!!!! Yeah, he ain't gonna DIEEEEEEEEEEEEEYAAAAAH!!!   Botttttoooom 5th. He'll send a fastball dooooooooooowwwwnnnnn 427 feet into the left field fucking bleeeeeeacheerrrssss. YEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHYAAAAAHHHHOOOOOEEEEAHHH!!!!! Shooooooove Lackey's nooooooooseee in SHIT!!!!!!!! 4-1. Them Bones.

A bit of shit news came to us in the bottom 6th when J-roll shot one into right but pulled into first limping. Right calf strain, again! Fuck......The injury that has had him down for the last month-and-a-half. It's listed as day-to-day but I hate to see my boy hurting. Get well, Roll.

Castro pinch ran for Rollins and scored on a Ryan Howard single through the hole into left field. 5-1. 

After 7 ace, Cole tips his cap and gave way for David Herndon to sit 'em down 1-2-3 in the 8th.  

Danys Baez got called in for the top 9th and quickly got in the muck with a single to Martinez and a walk to Youk. Bye-Bye, Baez. Not tonight, my man. 


With 1 out they bring in J.C. Romero and he gets J.D.Drew to ground out to Howard but plunks Adrian Beltre, loading them up for pinch hitter, fucking "Big Papi" David Ortiz. This is what the game is all about. Papi could shut everyone up real fucking quick with a stoke of the bat. Well, the years haven't been too kind to Ortiz and Romero pops him the fuck out to Victorino. 3 outs. 5-1. Good times never felt so good.

Tonight we got Kendrick on the rubber for game 2 @ 7:05pm Eastern Standard Time / 9:05am Canberra Die Slowly Time. Let's get that wifey quim and go out beating!!!

The fam and I went on a trip to the Canberra Irish Club. These dudes were there:

Maybe they just returned from an expedition hunting the elusive Same-Sex Marriage Zebra native to Oxford St. in Sydney. Or maybe they're big Sepultura fans.Taking photos of random strangers is mad easy when you have a a wife to feign posing for a photo just out of the shot in front of people like this. It also helps to have an infant to hold in front of you when they catch on to your idiotic game.

Until tomorrow, Followers......fuck new york and fucking hogtie Sweet Caroline.


Friday, May 21, 2010

May 20 2010 PHI v CHC Game 2. Phl 17 Cancels Scrubs

Now, my dearly beloved Followers, this is what I'm talking about! Yesterday afternoon's 5-4 win over the sCrUBS is just the thing the business persons of PHL deserve. Of course we weren't gonna let the NL Central just waltz in and out with our nuts around their necks. Yes, I know we should've taken both of those games we jizzed away this week but that's the way love goes, sisters.  A snapped 2 game losing streak has a better morning-after feeling with the floundering Red Sox billowing our way than giving up another one-run anal fissure to a mediocre side. 

Big Joe held up his end of the bargain, catching up to the rest of the team yesterday tossing for 7, giving up 3 runs on 5 hits. He can't claim the W but he's almost shaken the April off his arm and its becoming more and more apparent with each start. Nothing fancy, just chipping away.

Utley got the scoreboard flickering with a solo shit in the top 1st, his 10th of the year. 1-0.


We sailed until the Cubbies decided to join the party in the top 5th with an RBI single from 
bigfuckingdealyoungperson Starlin Castro. 1-1.

Jimmy Fucking Rollins, back in full force, showed the baby bears what it means to be a man by smacking the hoes with a 3-run winky-dinky-dog in the bottom 6th, feasting from the insurance-run butt-buffet.


The lead was quickly squandered when Derrick Lee walloped one into the left field haters off a Blanton meatball and then later in the inning when Alfonso Soriano scored on a sac fly from pincher Tyler Colvin. 4-3. Not cool.

Wouldn't you know it that good ol' Antonio Bastardiooooh in the top 8th would give that try-hard Matsui, Kosuckmo Fuk u do me, a nice high-hard piece of meat to send into the right field bleachers. Game tied. Fuck your mother. Just like in '41..... It wasn't even Bastards fault, he gave him high cheese. Who knew it would be spooning with an accountant half a second late. Danys Baez came swooping in to clean the mess. 4-4. 

But never fear, my Followers when Raul is in the wings, lurking like a mad cunt in the bottom 8th. Ibany mans the fuck up, knocking in the go ahead run lining it to center. Funkengrooven's throw was off line and Chutley slides on in. 5-4. "RAUUUUUUUUUUL!!!!!" goes the maniax!

Then it was time for Jose, Jose Quite Contreras to climb the mound for a motherfucking ball-in-throat cliff hanger of a top 9th. He hits Soriano with the 11th pitch of the at bat and then lets Mike Fontenot smack a liner to center putting men on the corners, no outs. Jose whiffs Starlin Castro and Aramis Ramirez but allows Fontenot to steal second. Men at 2nd and 3rd, 2 out. This is when the bad things usually happen in baseball. Not today, Followers, because mr mister Geovany (I know it's not how it's really spelled) Soto pops one into foul ground for Big Piece to snatch the last out of the air like a hummingbird's virginity. Jose gets save 2 of his career. 5-4, we win, suck me.

Every dorky blog I read is fretting hard about the Red Sox' return to Philly tonight and the Fightin's poor interleague record. I hope to think that we can shrug off the bullshit predictions predicated on the outings of yore and not sweat a team fingering itself in the AL East cellar. I understand it's perhaps the shittest division to be lumped into, you try out-selling McDonalds, but still these guys have been major players for the last 4 years and were a lot of the reason teams like the O's and Jays have reason to bitch. You can't really cry "salary cap" as a excuse for their performance. They have seen the light come and go. Not to say I'm not a tad scared about shaking that monkey off our collective back but it just doesn't seem like the we should be shivery in our cleats of the big bad beantown bangers right now. We have bigger fish to fry but we still have to fry these fucks first. Go Phils!

No funny stuff today. I'm a man with needs, alright? I got ebay auctions to run. I will bring the ha-ha's tomorrow with a funny thing I found on a menu at a place called wokinabox. Until then, Followers, fuck new york and fuck boston and fuck 'em all and fuck you momma and fuck The MOMA.


Thursday, May 20, 2010

May 19 2010 PHI v CHC Game 1. Fuck, That Was Embarrassing

                                                          fuck this..........

Fuck, Followers.....I can't put into words the happenings of last night's game. I feel like the mailman's had his way with me, sexually. I love those men like brothers but that kind of weak offense ain't gonna cut it with the kind of power we're wielding. It's just tasteless. 1 run! Again? The Cubs? The LawnMoyer Man deserves better than that.! He pitches 7 with as many Ks and we're only gonna put up 1 run? Today's entry will be put simply:

Let's pound the wives and get 'em today. 1:05 game so get your story straight with the boss if you're in the place to be. Until next time fuck new york and have a bean-feast for all I fucking care....


Wednesday, May 19, 2010

May 18 2010 PHI v PIT Game 2. The Bats Had Left The Bell Tower.

            You know you can pee on them when they are down there don't you, L.O.S.?

What a fucking mess, my dear Followers. A 1-2 loss to Pittsburgh, eeeesh. The pitchers might as well have been throwing Ambien for all I know. Yeah, Doc had his shit but what can you do when the bats are MIA? I really have little motivation to write about the game due to severe depression but I will share with you a friends insight to last nights happenings. Shortly after that appalling bore-fest I received this email from The Ghost Of Bob Ross which pretty much sums up my feelings. I warn you there is some language:


Man o man, let me tell you. I was at tonight's game and shit......It was a BUTTFUCKING FAGGOT FEST!!!! I mean come!!!! ONE FUCKING RUN!!!!!????? Fuck I'da saved a run or two from the night before to not lose against the FUCKING PIRATES AT HOME!! God, be thankful you live in Canberra and didn't go with yer mom to this jack-off convention. Fuck, Doc looked great after that one stupid run he gave up in the 2nd on 2 doubles. Their SECOND run of the game was fucking bullshit! Those soft-dick infield fucking piss-dribbles!!!!!! What the fuck? I'm sorry but if Utley needs a few nights off for the sniffles he fucking should be able to and not have to worry whether of not the team is going to turn into the Briafcliffe Father and Sons ass-stars! And where the fuck was Raul? Francisco can usually play but I guess he ain;t had shit off a run this year, the tribe played him for most of last year. ans that fuck McCutcheon got lucky with that assist nailing Rooster at home. Fuck, whatever, I'm getting too heated for this stupid fucking game. Tomorrow's a new day and we still gotta live it. 4 games into first isn't a pile of dog-cum, ya mean? I shouldn't be so un-zen in times like this, I still have an image to uphold. Jimmy looks ok back out there and Big Piece had a goo night but not shit came from it. What can you do..... Your Mom said sup to me at Planet Hoagie which was dope. She looks good and she's pumped to coem see you and The Revenge. That little asshole looks awesome. Good work. Keep banging away, I'd rather you have em than those troglodytes that you put on your blog from the Library. Fuck bro....


Ps,  What was that faggot Ryan Phillipe doing throwing out the first pitch? I don't care if he knocked up Reese WItherspoon, dude sucks. Who's up for tomorrow, your dad? SYYYYYYKEE!!!!

That's about the skinny. A Dead bat pitchers duel and lots of frustration for loyal fans. Fuck it, tomorrow we got the cubs and anyone with a brain views this week as a 4 game stand against the Central, not different teams. We can still make the best of it. I know I did. After the game I went out and bought myself something nice:

Until tomorrow, Followers.......fuck new york.........and practice safe sex mostly usually. 


Tuesday, May 18, 2010

May 17 2010 PHI v PIT Game 1. Pirates Get Keelhauled, Singer-Songwriter Finds Heartbreak

                                         amatuer video. the realest shit!!!!

Yep, Followers, last nights match up went pretty much as expected; A 12-2 savaging of the Pirates. An opposing pitcher with an ERA of  9 million gives up 6 runs then relieve pitching gives up 6 more, 4 in the form of a grand fucking slam. This isn't fucking rocket science, it was just an old fashioned ass beating. Plain and simple. Hell, Kendrick even looked like Carlton out there save for the lead off homer to Delwyn Young. I don't really feel the need to analyze this brutal bad-boy to deeply so we'll just go over it like gentlemen.

Kendry quickly got our balls soaring into our throats with the aforementioned lead-off solo dinger given up to Young but that really was the a minor hiccup along the road to annihilation. Kendrick looked strong, getting ahead in the count early and sitting down most hitters with ease. If only he had poise like this against contenders we'd be in fucking business. Pirates starter, Charlie Morton, on the otherhand left something to be desired. This just hasn't been his year and in all honestly I feel shitty bagging on him so I'll refrain. He's a pro and he gets enough shit. But what I might bag on is his self produced/written/recorded album of acoustic boooooooooooooollshit but that's another Clog post. Work on the cannon, brother.

After a piss-weak couple of innings poncing around at 1-1, Big Piece and The Fucking Rooster decide to get it over with. Bottom 3rd, Howard drives in 2 RBIs with the bases loaded   with a 2 out single into left field scoring L.O.S. and Victorino. 3-1. Then my man Rooster tosses another few shit-logs onto Charlie Morton's fire with a 3-run ejaculation of power into the right filed seats sending him, Howard and Polly home. 6-1. Byah. Yep, byah.

Yadda yadda yadda, and the boys have knocked in 2 more runs and given up 1, bringing us up to speed at 8-2 in the 8th. Kendrick has been making a meal outta the Pirates, looking ace as fuck and taking no shit. After 8 solid he sits down. Pirates Charlie Morton and Jeff Karstens were put down humanely leaving the mound to Jack Taschner. Bottom 8th, Taschner gets through Ruiz and pincher Ben Francisco easily but fucks everything up for himself by giving up a single to Viccy and walking Polanco and Rollins, loading them up for THE BIG PIECE. I'm pretty sure you know where this is going. Taschner didn't even turn around with some kind of tawdry hope that the ball hadn't landed in his wife's bedroom. He was so bummed. Fucking thing was gone. Grand Salami into center, 12-2. What more do I have to say? Those were some nice motherfuckin' tittaaaaaaaaays. Antonio Bastardo laid em out in the top 9th and we cool. Good to see him back out there. 

Game over.

Tomorrow night we bring more fear for the Pirates with The Death Dealer Halladay getting the ball in the house that Chollie built. Phear the Reaper.

OH SHIT! I think we got some kind of serious Graf war going on in the 2902. Some of you might remember this piece from a few posts ago. It seems as if a rival gang of pro-gay anti-haters has struck back with a statement of their own. I smell trouble.  Let's go to our man on the street, The Ghost Of Bob Ross for commentary. Bob......

Hello John, When I first noticed the O.G. "2902=HOMOS" graf I thought to my "WHO THE FUCK DOES THIS FAGGOT THINK HE IS?" Coming onto my turf and dissing all of us? That's some straight up buster BULLSHIT! I mean, I'm sure there are a few homos among us and what a man does in the sanctity of his own home is his business but to lay out such a blanket generalization of an entire post code just seems a little brash for my tastes. AND NOW THIS PINK FUCKING RETALIATION SHIT? What kind of fucking message are we trying to send back to our accusers? "Yeah sure, call us homos. That's cool. Hey check out my fancy pink faggy spray paint we carry around constantly like little fucking fairies?" Sheeeeesh, something with a little more gusto could be utilized in a situation like this otherwise we're just gonna come off like pansies. Back to you, John!

Shit, Thanks, Bob. All of us here at TBSS can see your very angry about this unrest on our streets. Hopefully something will be doen to clean up the mess. We can all sleep a little sounder knowing the concern that courses through your undead veins. 

Thats all for today, Followers. Until tomorrow please fuck new york and find me an authentic Ricky Jordan Away jersey from '89. I'm still fucking looking.