Who wouldn't want to pile on this?
A-Rod is getting beat down like a crippled child molester in a San Quentin shower room.
Now, normally, I am one of those people that quickly tire of hearing the same thing over and over and over. For example, I refuse to see either "Meet the Parents" or "Meet the Fockers" because I'm so tired of hearing people tell me how great they are. I've never seen an episode of Seinfeld (that's right folks, never) because I got tired of hearing about it before I had a chance to see it. Kramer, George, "No soup for you!" Blah blah blah. Okay, I get it, I get it. But this A-Rod thing...somehow it just never stops being funny to me. Yes, there's been a lot of it going around. And maybe it is class-less. But it's like waiting in a traffic jam for an hour and a half and then finally driving past the smoking wreckage and trying to force yourself NOT to look at any dead bodies or triage cases - it's horrible to witness, yet strangely compelling. It's like in Lord of the Flies, when the weaker Piggy had the Conch and was attempting to speak, and the other stronger, more feral kids dropped a huge fucking rock on his head. (Only Piggy was infinitely more likeable than A-Rod.) Something primal in me is satisfied by seeing Alex Rodriguez thoroughly tonge-lashed. Proof that I am a terrible and vidictive person, but I guess I could blame that on my zodiacal sign if I believed in that shit. So I say bombs away, Boston Red Sox. My husband is waiting for Cesar Crespo to take a pot-shot. Now, wouldn't that be something?
And here are some new additions to our wardrobe:
Big Dada. I love this jersey so much it makes my chest hurt to look at it.
Full Squad workouts today! I. MUST. HAVE. PICTUUUUURRRRRRRES!