That’s right: Prednizone, baby! Got it from a Poodle who knew a Portuguese Waterdog that lived with a Bichon Frisé who had a locker next to Larry Bigbie’s dog – a Siberian Husky who went to a vet who wrote a lot of prescriptions and didn’t ask a lot of questions. No it doesn’t matter why you take steroids or for how long – all steroids are equal and if your name is on a list you have forever tarnished any dog show you have ever been in. At least it does finally explain how a Chihuahua can balance a bowling ball on his nose.
OK, so the Mitchell Report is out and it turns out that a lot of players have been taking steroids! I have actually come full circle and decided to take a moral stand against all those who scoff at our sacred laws – the Javier Herreras who flaunt our drug policies by taking PEDs and then (I assume) forcing PEDs down the gullets of frightened puppies; the Jack Hannahans who pass out on people’s lawns without at least mowing them first; the Nick Swishers who go out carousing all night and refuse to hit on Cindi. Which is why from now on I will only watch baseball when Mark Ellis is batting against Florence Henderson. I just hope baseball has the good sense to put an asterisk by all the records set by Neifi Perez, Dan Serafini, and Alex Sanchez.
No really, though, I can simply no longer support Santa Claus, whose practice of “breaking and entering” has been well established. However, I have told my students that if they’re out in public, and an old man promises them presents if they’ll just sit on his lap, they should “go for it!” Is that bad advice? Which reminds me: Earlier this semester, one of the Kindergarteners was asking about dressing up as a fairy princess and going door-to-door asking for candy, and I said, “Sure, of course!” That was a week ago and no one has seen her since – should I be concerned?
OK, OK, fine – all seriousness aside, I will no longer support Miguel Tejada or Jack Cust, but I will support Todd Jones, who has the courage and good sense to speak out against the archaic practice of “not hating people for being gay.” I’m sorry but I just happen to believe strongly that marriage should be narrowly defined as “a union between an immature man who always has to be right and refuses to express his feelings and a controlling woman who relieves stress by shopping for shoes she can’t afford.” Fortunately, this still includes most of the population.
Sigh, fine, I’ll be serious. But before we talk about a report prepared by someone with an interest in the Red Sox, commissioned by someone whose family owns the Brewers, here’s Cindi to read an excerpt from her 300 page report on best and worst front-page stories on AN: “Tuesdays and Fridays are the best – YAY!!!!!” Wow, and I happen to know it’s accurate because the report was carefully proof-read by Poochini. Gee, I just have so many people to thank…
All right, all right, to “the subject at hand,” as ‘twere. What follows is everything new and original I can think of to say on the topic of the Mitchell report: