Saturday, June 2, 2007

Pittsburgh Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Green Monster

Thank you for all your letters and kind thoughts, Yankee fans. I'm OK. My head hurts still but I will live.

Fuck Mike Lowell. That fucking genie bearded overachieving faggot. Since I hate that kneehappy son of a bitch, I'm going to post a conversation I overheard underneath the bowels of Fenway Park after the game. Of course, since that place is a God forsaken, 11th century, condemnded-by-the-fire-marshall piece of shit, I can hear every word spoken through every wall once those pathetic Beantown faggots that fill the stands leave, to go home to their sad sack NESN based existences. Anyway here's the conversation that took place:

Some Red Sox Beat Writer Reporter Douche Bag (SRSBWRDB): Wow, you really nailed Mientkiewicz.
Mike Lowell: Thanks. I also nailed one over the Green Monster. Then I nailed the Green Monster. So I nailed a lot of things today. Including this interview with my excellent insights. And yes, you can print that. I think I'm becoming one of the best hitters to ever live. There's no doubt in my mind I'd be hitting .330 in any ballpark in the league.
Joe Morgan: Michael, I love you.
Lowell (whispering): Not NOW, Joe.
SRSBWRDB: Any other comments to add about the game?
Trainer: OK guys. You gotta leave. I've gotta give Mike some treatment.
SRSBWRDB: Awwww!
(He leaves)
Trainer: Joe, why are you still here?
Morgan: I always like to watch Michael get naked. I watch all my favorite players get naked.
Lowell: There are...other...players?
Morgan: Oops.
Lowell: Joe, I thought I was special.
Trainer: Mike, please spread your legs.
Random Person Walking Through the Clubhouse: That's what SHE said! Oh! Giggity Gig!
Morgan: You are special. It's just that...well...ESPN doesn't get to cover you guys enough. Once a week is just not enough!
Lowell: Joe...I've got to tell you something too.
Trainer: You'll feel a little pinch here. This one's new. It's called "the queer," specially formulated for you, but it works just like the others.
Morgan: What is it, Michael?
Lowell: OW! FUCK!
Trainer: ...sorry...
Lowell: I've been cheating on you too, Joe
Morgan: ...WHAAAATTTTTT????
Lowell: With the Green Monster. I think I'm in love.
Morgan: But the Green Monster isn't a person.
Lowell: Yes it is. A few years after the park was built in 1912, an unknown player had a curse put on him by Babe Ruth. The real curse of the Bambino, since you know this team didn't really have a curse. They just sucked, which is why I didn't come here until 2006 when everyone started hopping on their bandwagon. But anyway, Babe Ruth turned this player into the wall, and they called him the Green Monster because he was always Green with envy for Babe Ruth's hot dogs if ya know what I mean...because this player liked dick...which is why Babe cursed him...because he didn't want him eating his hot dog, dig? Anyway, the Green Monster still likes dick...a lot...it just doesn't get it very often. During the offseason I learned of the legend. So I please the Green Monster...he pleases my batting average, even though he's forever trapped in the form of an outfield wall.
Morgan: I think I'm speechless for the first time in my existence. And that includes my time in the womb.
Trainer: Here comes another one...little prick.
Lowell: Motherfuckshitwhorebitchassholeannanicolesmithfuckfacecuntbombplutoniuminmyasscrackcockwad!!!
Trainer: ...sorry...
Lowell: I just feel like the Monster gets me, you know? And I think I get the Monster.
Morgan: Is that why you're hitting so well this year? The Monster being good to you in return for a few bukkake showers?
Lowell: NO! I AM HITTING WELL BECAUSE I AM AN AMAZING HITTER!
Morgan: Sorry, Michael. I didn't mean it that way.
Trainer: Mike, take it easy. This won't work if you keep fidgeting.
Lowell: OK, OK.
Morgan: Michael? Are those steroids?
Lowell: This second one is a little something I like to call HMH.
Morgan: HMH?
Lowell: Human Mojo Hormone.
Morgan: What?
Lowell: The Monster is big. It's hard to please. But worth it. I want to please the Monster. ALL of him.
Morgan: But what about me?
Lowell: I think David Ortiz is still in the shower. With Jonathan Papelbon.
Morgan: Wow, double your pleasure AND your fun.
Random Person Walking Though the Clubhouse: Giggity Giggity Giggity Gig...Allllll rightttt!
Trainer: Normally you pay double for that kind of action, Cotton.
Morgan: Who's Cotton?
Trainer: Haven't you ever seen Dodgeball?
Morgan: Sure I played Dodgeball in 3rd grade.
Trainer: No, the movie Dodgeball.
Morgan: They made a movie called Dodgeball?
Trainer: Yes.
Morgan: What was it about?
Trainer: Dodgeball
Morgan: Really?
Trainer: Yes
Morgan: Wow. What was the quote from?
Trainer: The movie
Morgan: What movie?
Trainer: Dodgeball
Morgan: The movie about Dodgeball was called Dodgeball?
Trainer: You are an idiot.
Lowell: Ortiz. Papelbon. Viagra. Cialis. HURRY!!!
(Morgan runs off)
Trainer: Glad he's gone.
Lowell: I miss him already.
Trainer: Yeah. Me too.

Needless to say I didn't quite know what to make of the whole thing. Just another proof about how everything affiliated with the Boston Red Sox is in fact both gay and stupid. Simultaneously.

Oh and Douggy Bombs just finished watching Pirates of the Caribbean in the hospital. But that had absolutely no effect whatsoever on his ability to remember the details of Mike Lowell's conversation. Ow. My head still hurts. too bad they won't let me sleep just yet...stupid Mike Lowell and his concussion knees. Prick better duck next time I come to the plate. You think my homers are hit hard, I'm lining the next one straight into that HMH taker's dick. Then he won't be able to please the monster, and then he won't be able to hit. Take that, motherfucker.

No comments: