Another high school class is set to be turned loose onto the streets to terrorize beaches, malls and hopefully the parents who spawned the spoiled, overly tatted, illiterate demon seeds. Extra explode-y movie trailers are out in full force to tap into your primal lust for the ultimate CGI orgy. Parked cars are so hot (How hot are they?!), your seat-belt buckle could burn you. Seriously, this one time I thought it branded my neck like a steer. Speaking of that, the steering wheel? What the fuck! I’m surprised I still have fingerprints. Remember that scene in Men in Black where Will Smith scorches his fingertips? I need a garage. Where was I? … Oh, and people are wearing much less clothing. Never the people you’re thinking of, either. The wrong people. Hideous people. People so out of shape, they need to lie down after a big sentence. People who think exercise is an extra long fart. Get the picture now? There it is. Now picture that person in spandex and a halter-top. That’s right, kids. Summer is here. Officially. (Suck it, June 21st!)
How ‘bout them Rays? Our beloved Tampa Bay team is smack dab in the middle of a hot streak (or shit streak depending on what day you’re reading this). Over the holiday weekend, highlights included avoiding a frustrating sweep against the God-forsaken Yank-me’s Sunday by finally thumping them 8-3 in Game 3, followed by a solid opener against our in-state rival Miami Marlins 10-6 on Memorial Day.
The latter introduced many casual fans to a gentleman by the name of Kelly Johnson, who hit a 3-run homer in the second inning, putting the Rays up 6-0. But for those of us paying attention, 6-zip don’t mean diddly-poop. Sure enough, Tampa Bay managed to keep it interesting by desperately holding on to a 7-6 lead in the eighth. So that same dude with a girl’s name, obviously well aware of our current bullpen bullshit, decided to give us a nice case of dèja vu by clobbering a second 3-run homer, putting the game away for good.
So if you’re just joining us, the bats and the bullpen have done a bit of a flip-flop from last year. If the Rays limped into the ninth inning leading 1-0 in 2012, our closer Fernando Rodney would take care of business and nail it shut. This season, we could be up by … oh I don’t know, let’s say 70,000 runs when Rodney takes the mound and nobody would feel comfortable changing the station to House Hunters International until it was all over. (Do realtors on that show even know what a budget is?)
Your Tampa Bay Storm is just a skosh past the halfway point of the 2013 season after losing to the Philadelphia Soulless 73-55 last Saturday. (Jesus, does anybody play defense in this league?) The Storm is currently 6-4 and second in the Southern division as they take on the Iowa Barnstormers this Saturday for Win-a-Date-with-a-Cheerleader Night. Okay, that last part was a lie. I just thought I was losing you. Come on down for a football fix. The tickets are cheap and the people-watching is outstanding. The Kiss-Cam alone is worth the price of admission.
Also on Saturday, the Tampa Bay Rowdies lost 3-2 to Minnesota in front of 3,372 enlightened sports enthusiasts and find themselves in a three-way tie with The Stars and Carolina … hey … are you okay … wake up! Doctor, he’s not breathing. I don’t know, I was talking about the Rowdies and his eyes just rolled back.
(The previous joke was for you easily offended soccer hooligans. I just love pushing your indignant buttons.)
Honorable Afterthoughts: The St. Louis Rams just signed Terrell Brown, a rookie offensive lineman at 6-foot-10, weighing in at 403 pounds (I’d make a joke here but I’m just too fucking terrified right now); after retiring a Super Bowl Champion, former Raven Ray Lewis plans to climb Africa’s Mount Kilimanjaro where he’ll be the first alleged murderer to … (Nope, still terrified); finally, Chuck Norris wrote a column strongly suggesting that the Jacksonville Jaguars sign Tim Tebow. It’s official: Most terrifying paragraph… EVER.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some pants to change.
This article appears in May 30 – Jun 5, 2013.
