The Big Sharkey Show

Calls It A Day

2011-04-03T06:23:00.000-07:00

Look, I'm gonna keep this short and sweet without all the mushy crap. Big Sharkey is gonna have to call it a day. I just honestly don't have time to write this silly thing any longer. This ain't Canberra, Daddy's gotta a full time job and a mortgage to worry about. Plus my terrorist son and wife refuse to let me even take a shit alone, do you think they'd let me sneak off for an hour to write about our beautiful boys in red pinstripes every night? It's just not the same anymore.

Yes, I will miss you all, Followers. This is the sad part. But, fuck... none of you came here to be coddled. Go and start your own blog with swearing and penises and hoagie bats and intense, sexually charged wit. It's your turn to make me laugh.

Consider the Clog as the ultimate diary of the 2010 Philadelphia Phillie season. One day you'll sit down with your shitty children and read to them from the knowledge within these pages. You will make a better quality citizen by doing so. Besides, the Facebook page will still be up to use as a bathroom wall.

So, for the last time.... fuck new york and GO FUCKING PHILLIES!!!! 2011, baby. It's gonna be a great year. OK BYE-BYE.

JSIII

What Metallica Record Is Cliff Fucking Lee?

2011-03-04T17:37:00.000-08:00

....and that's fucking right....And Justice For All. Yep, Clifton Phipher Phucking Lee.

I know what you're thinking, Followers; why this fucking record and not something like Kill 'Em or Lightning? Granted this is an odd choice but the one that makes the most sense in my superior dome. Let me please explain without going through all the retarded song metaphors like I did with the last installment. This is a special record to me. I used to jam this cassette on my walkman down on the tracks while burning issues of Town Talk I was supposed to be delivering. I'm not fucking around.

Cliff Lee is the fucking Hammer Of Justice. He embodies everything good and fair in this silly little game of ball and bat. He says 'fuck you, cunts' to the sniveling, smug yankees fan base to come back where he belongs for less money. I know, this is all a retreading of the little fairy tail that everyone in the Delaware Valley lived through back in December but it's still a powerful yarn.

...And Justice is an album about the erosion of the fairness and morality and illustrates this notion through 9 epic fucking ragers. In many ways, Lee illustrated the same by signing back in Philly. He went with is dick, balls and heart instead of his check book. Who the fuck still uses a check book? Any jerk-off with a stupid beard and terrible attitude can bank on a big contract with a corny team, it' takes a real fucking M.A.N. to pull the shit Lee pulled. It's comforting to know that someone who's loved one was spat upon by a certain cretinous horde of rich troglodytes can serve justice in simply not giving said gaggle of filth joy through his craft. It's a man exercising his middle finger the most effective way anyone could.

Not to mention the album is fucking incredible. That's the big fucking boner parallel of them all. Awesome pitcher - awesome album, Lee likes to party - Alcoholica likes to party. Both this record and Lee could easily pitch 12 CG's this season. I don't give a flying fuck what you think, Justice has the best 'Tallica riffs recorded to date. I'm serious. Go and put this fucking thing on during Lee's start Sunday. You will be head fucking banging and air guitaring like the largest dickhead on the block because this record will rip your vagina off and nail it to your mother's face with your father's dick. Case and point:

Dyer's Fucking Eve. Must I elaborate, Followers?? Did you just fucking listen to this song? OK, then it's settled. I'm right. Again.

On a side note, last night a friend of mine who smokes and works hard made a great observation; Being a Yankee is fucking uncool now. Really, think about that. You are sort of viewed by any non-yanks fan as a total herb for being on that team. This is pretty remarkable if you think about what that team was in the 30s, 40s, 50,s 60s and even 70s. Every American boy wanted to be Babe Ruth or Lou Gehrig. Now you are the soul-less shill sniffing A-Cups jock strap for more money than most small countries are worth in front of a crowd full of homophobic yuppy cunts housed in a billion-dollar burden on society. You are a fucking tool and I love it.

Whatever, I'm babbling. Like a brook that runs through the Whole Foods in Austin; the corny capitol of America. I have to get back to hating life. Stay tuned for the next installment when we compare Roy Oswalt to Kill'Em All.

Until next time fuck new york and bake a cake for the wiggers next door. They've earned it.

JSIII

What Metallica Record Is Roy Fucking Halladay?

2011-02-24T21:17:00.000-08:00

As I sit here basking in the glory of the Fightin's first fucking game/victory of the Spring Exhibiton against the FSU Semens, I thunk it no more a better time to start part 1 of my 5-installment piece comparing each pitcher of the 2011 rotation to one of the first 5 Metallica records. Yeah, I know they only got better after that but I just have no frame of reference since I wasn't dying my beard pink and moshing alone in mall parking lots after high school.

We of course fucking start out with Roy Fucking Halladay. This one was a toughey because I could've gone a few ways with this. After serious thought and arduous delineation (5 minutes at work, daydreaming) I decided that the 'Tallica jammer that most suited our top cat's everything was that 1986 masterpiece, Master Of Fucking Puppets. It's seriously, in my humble opinion, the true stand-out of the Holy First Five. It's heavy, accomplished, epic, beautiful and perfect. If you can't see the parallels you're a fucking dickhead. After all, Roy is the Master.

Like a Halladay start, Master's first cut, Battery, opens gracefully yet forebodingly with a ominous acoustic guitar intro. If you play this song in real time to the first inning by the time the gentleness of the intro ends and the fucking pure mayhem and bashing begins you usually are watching a hapless lead-off hitter getting his balls kicked in by some serious fucking heat, walking away dejected and scorned by a Halladay fist-fuck. Brutality. BATTERY!

No, things don't get much easier as the second and third innings go by as Roy continues to fucking waylay the competition to the title track of this fine album. An epic tale of substance abuse and despair barrels along like a fucking freak train to Hades (that ride must suck balls. Ask that useless dicksmoke, Pat Burrell), Master Of Puppets almost defines musically the Halladay game. It's melodic and veracious, taking no motherfucking prisoners. There's even apart in the middle of the tune where it slows down for a second only to lull you into a false sense of security as you are tossed back to the wolves of the heavy breakdown. James Hetfield pleads "MASTER, MASTER!! WHERE'RE THE DREAMS THAT I'VE BEEN AFTER??!! I assure you right fucking now this sentence goes through Jose Reyes' head as his hopes and dream are shattered for the 4th time of the night. Kick ass.

The 3rd track, The Thing That Should Not Be, was definitely written about the run that sometimes happens in the middle of the game when Halladay starts drifting off and thinking about his fantasy team.

Sanitarium closes out side A and pretty much sums up the feeling any opposing manager as he watches his boys get mowed down by Halladay's Viet-Cong esque gunfire. "Who am I?" or "Life is shit, why am I here?" and totally "Roy's beard is fucking perfect..." The toll this kind of battle takes on a General is heavy. The beatings are severe and can make a motherfucker go insane. Insane snakes and shit, evil metal looking horses carry your fucking brain away. You are fucked and the record is only half-way done. Can you imagine how Dusty Baker feels?

I'm not really gonna keep fucking going making stupid analogies to each track, that would take all night. I don't have that time and Roy knows it. He fucking works quick and so did Metallica. Just like a Halladay start comes and goes in a whirlwind of fucking terror and bliss, so does Puppets. BAM, BAM, BAM!!!... then its fucking done and your pants are down and your mouth is dry and your balls are stuffed in your butt. It's intense.

I leave you now with footage of what the 9th inning of a Halladay game sounds like in my head; the finale' of the album, Damage Fucking Inc. Check out the date on this clip. Duuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuude... let's get wasted!!! It's also from their tour with Ozzy Oswalt.

Up next in a few fucking days, Followers, I'm gonna do the Cliff Fucking Lee comparison. Can you guess which record he's gonna be? I'll give you a hint, it's not fucking Stanger. Yeah, that's how I say it so that's how I'll fucking spell it. I know you all thought this might be the Lee record with the whole "Cliff 'Em All" thing going on but you were wrong. It makes sense, you'll see.

Fuck new york and see your mother put to death. See your mother die.

JSIII

Top Ten Thing Joe Blanton Could Be Doing Besides Pitching On My Team

2011-02-21T17:20:00.000-08:00

I'm just gonna come out and say it bluntly; I think Joe Blanton is a pretty shitty pitcher. Not "the best 5-hole pitcher in the league" or an "innings-eater" of any of the other soft terms bandied about by the Daily News writers and Missanelli callers to make Joe feel a little less inadequate pitching behind the 4 Horsemen. I think he stinks. I'm not saying the guy wouldn't be awesome to do 9 tequila shots with and fucking terrorize a cul de sac with, I bet the dude is a sweet, genuine dude with nothing but love in his heart to impart to his fellow man. I am plainy and simply fucking sick of him pitching in a Phillies uniform.

Last season Bologna Joe went 9-6 with a 4.82 ERA, which in itself is pretty garbagio on paper, but these numbers hardly hint at the glacier of frustration he caused me last year. The ERA can't lie but the record can. I would say had Joey pitched for, say, the Royals, his record woulda been something like 8-11 based solely on the hunch that since he wouldn't have an all-star cast behind him that he wouldn't have a crew to clean up his messes. A good Bullpen and a mercurial but decent 2010 Phils offense turned a lot of loses into N/D's.

The all too common sight.

Remember the game last season in September against the Nationals that Werth (who?) smoked his monstrous, MLB network highlight reel walk-off with 2 outs in the bottom 9th to preserve out 3 game lead over ATL in the standings? That was a Blanton game. Fucker gave up a 2 run homer to MIKE MORSE, scrubbest of the scrubs to set us back 3 runs for the last half of the game. I wanted to fuck a hole in the sky.

Yep and remember last July when we swept the Reds in a 4-gamer just before the ASB? Do you remember the game that Big Phucking Piece and Cody Fucking Ransom went yard to turn a 1-7 deficit into a 9-7 large-cocked victory for the Fightin's? Yeah, that was Joe, too. Fucking hair dwindling, vomit inducing ball-bag strangling agony.

Instead of jabbering off about the Dodgers game he fucking beefed it to that lead way to the infamous annual Choochie clowning of Jonathan Broxton in a 8 run comeback ( yeah, you fucking remember), I'm gonna give you the goods and deliver what the title of this post promises.

Top Ten Things Joe Blanton could Do Instead Of Pitching for The Phillies

10. Opening up a delicatessen that specializes in vegan cuisine called NO CHEESE.

9. Meatball Chef at Maggianos! Get it.... meatballs?

8. Style Consultant for the band Nickelback.

7. Contestant on Ru Paul's Drag Race 4!

6. The Lunch Lady in an off-Broadway production of the movie Billy Madison.

5. The butler in Jayson Werth's 121 million dollar trailer, womp womp womp...

4. Firing on crowds in Lybia. Oooooooow, topical!

3. Cock-blocking the "Snitchuation" (worthless mets fan) at Karma.

2. Captain of the Australian Cricket Team.

1. Pitching for the mets!!! BLLLLAAANNNNNAAAHHHH!!!!!!! (horns and shit)

Look, I'm honestly not trying to hurt big fella's feeling or talk bad about one of our boys on the odd chance that he reads this awesome Clog, I'm just trying to exercise the JB of 2010 demon. I really got nothing but love for Joe and I'm just joshin' with this hinky list. I hope this cunt comes out of the shoot and gets more wins than any or all of our beloved Horsemen. I want him to succeed. I want him to be able to give everyone the fucking finger that talked about him as the 5 of Chubbs to the 4 Aces. I want him to fucking dominate, to eviscerate and annihilate the competition. I want Bazooka Joe not Sloppy Joe. I want the world for this cat. I just hope my dreams can facilitate his excellence, kind of like the movie Inception. No, I have never seen fucking Inception.

Buck up, Blanton. Knock 'em dead. PLEASE.

Who gives a shit, he'll probably be traded before the break anyways. Fuck new york and Ladies, shave your Beibers.

JSIII

Sharkey's Back, Phuckos

2011-02-16T16:38:00.000-08:00

Ahhh, Followers... Can you phucking smell it, taste it, PHEEL IT????!!!! The moist green grass underfoot, the leather oil glistening on your mitt, the stench of dogshit in your cleats that you always seem to mistake for Joe Blanton's repertoire?

That's right, motherfuckers, I'm fucking back and so is America's (The good one) national pastime. The proverbial sun is rising over a wounded and fragile Philadelphia, still in recovery of last year's Ryan Howard frozen penis and another Eagles season derailed by a first-round bouncing at home. What a fucking relief. I, for one, am sick of beating the fuck out of my fucking wife and swearing into the frigid winter winds in discontent. My balls are cold and my heart is yearning. Let's play some motherfucking baseball, Men!

It's been an interesting winter, huh, F's? Some tall dufuss named Clifton Phipher decided to not suck the dick of Satan and signed with the Fightin's. Wonder how that one will turn out. It sure must feel uncomfortable being the new guy with all th heavies we got in our rotation this year, the "4 Horsemen" and all. Joe Blanton, Kyle Kendrick, the Ball Girls for Runnemede, NJ. It's looking fierce.

The Clog this year, F's, will follow pretty much along the same lines as last year; a dairy of my life revolving around the Only Team That Matters. The only sizable difference I can see would be the amount of swearing being upped and the girth of my Hoagies Of Heat.

In the next few weeks leading up top opening day (apart from tracking team progress) I'll also slowly bring you up to speed on what I, your beautifully sculpted and chiseled Editor, have been doing with myself in these American States over the last few inactive months. Don't forget that I was in no-man's land, buttfuck Canberra last winter when I got the wild hair up my ass to start this blasted thing. This one has been a tad bit more interesting than last but, then again, watching a corpse rot beats a Canberra summer/ our winter. Good Golly , Miss Molly I'm on extacy! Rub my face and back!!!

My Spring Training coverage will contain a few features that most Phillies news outlets will not, including and not up to:

1. A Top Ten List Of Things Joe Blanton Could Be Doing Besides Pitching For My Baseball Team ala Letterman.

2. A Fucking "Vlog" From My New Job (feat. interviews with 70 year olds and Puerto Ricans on the upcoming Phillies season)

3. A Five installment piece on "Which Phillies Starter Is What Metallica Record?" (1st 5 only)

4. Pictures of me (clothed, sober)

5. Videos of my heathen scum neighbors that call their kids "asshole fuckfaces" constantly. Rare footage of true cunts.

6. No facts at all, ever.

7. In-the-filed coverage from Yours Truly and our favorite Irish bag of white pudding, Chuck Meehate. we'll both be down in Clearwater for the live action and donkey shows with Chooch.

Look at that content. That's just Spring Training. By the looks of this agenda it'd probably be a good idea to keep some vaseline around for the next 8 months because you are about to be butt-fucked by seriously the hardest Phils talk around the globe. Things will probably be posted slowly as I am getting back into the swing but by Opening Day.... you better believe it's phucking on!

OK, shitheads. I'm going back to real life for a few hours. Don't forget who brings you the crudest Phillies responses and reactions with the wit to match, wontcha? It's a brand new year and a brand new reason to not die. Until next installment.......

GO MOTHERPHUCKING FIGHTIN'S AND FUCK NEW YORK, WE GOT CLIFF. YOU HAVE SHIT! Good luck with A.J. Burnett.

JSIII

P.S. There will be way more typos this year, as well. Deal with it. See yous in a few.

OK, Let's Wrap This The Phuck Up

2010-10-27T07:23:00.000-07:00

So, I've had a few days to do my little piss-pants dance and get over the fact that we're not going to be playing tonight. It's fine, really. I've come to rationalize in my head the many reasons why I should not kill myself. I have a wonderful family, my birthday is tomorrow so maybe I'll get something cool, I still haven't seen Social Network...

In a drunken haze I kinda wrote this last column for the Philadelphia Weekly about why you shouldn't be a Debbie-Downer sour-fucking -puss about being eliminated by the corny giants. Yes, it stings to lose to such dick-in-mouth busters but folks, really, let's be honest.They played a better series. I hate to agree with a front office pencil pusher but even Rube was right. The Phils didn't have a single hot player during the entire post season offensively. It was all defensive swinging and hope. Kind of like a those parties my parents used to go to.

Here's the column peppered with a little extra that sure as fuck wouldn't have made it into the Liberal Times of Philadelphia without a roofie for the Editor and a costume change for it's readership. They always take my fucks away. I honestly can't write anymore about this end at the moment. It's still too fresh on the brain and in many respects I'm not a journalist, I'm just a fan with a razor sharp wit and large vocabulary of dicks and sacks. I try to be objective but most times it stings. I still can't not call-out the team for not showing the fuck up, I just do it for considerably less money. Still I offer a slightly tender seasons-end piece.

And just like that it’s over. The Phils lose, life sucks again. My days will be filled with meaningless crapola like raising my son and beating my wife until the sun dawns on the spring. Though, as I sit here all busted up about the loss to San Fran and subsequent elimination, I am filled not with anger, but with bittersweet pride. I cannot look back on this series, or season for that matter, with a sour puss. And yes, I’ve tried.

Sure they pretty much handed the Giants that series and couldn’t do dick with runners in scoring position. Why didn’t fucking Howard just swing the fucking bat? Why didn’t Mike Sweeney get the bat instead of Gload in Game 6? What was up with Utley, was he secretly injured? So many questions and so many dreams flushed down the fucking toilet, but I’m not here to piss and moan about it. Of course I’d like to light AT&T park on fire, piss on the ciders and then shit in that cunt Pat Burrell’s steroids, but that’s just not in the cards. A season of dramatic highs and devastating lows is in our rearview and all I can do is swell.

Who among you could’ve predicted that our boys would’ve taken us into late October nights back in dimal May and June? Not one of us could’ve hoped to be sullenly reading this stupid column right now after watching a weary Jamie Moyer get teed-off on for nine runs in the first two innings of inter-league play at Fenway or Jayson Werth go 104 at-bats without a home run.

None of us could’ve expected a National League Division Series Champs T-shirt to be covering our unfuckable, fat bodies after watching Ross Gload, Wilson Valdez, Juan Castro and Greg Dobbs (well, maybe not) put more men across the plate than our trusties for most of the early summer. When we got shut out for an entire series in Flushing against the worthless Mets did any of you think we’d be punching a hole in our walls over an NLCS defeat?

Consolation is the weakest of prizes but there are a few that can comfort us in this hour of defeat. The Braves—our closest divisional rival ability-wise—bit the dust in a most disgraceful manner as they wished fond farewell to their longtime skipper, Bobby Cox. He'll have plenty of time to beat his wife after retirement to satiate his desire for victory but still don't you think the 'necks wanted to bring him home another title?

Look at the sorry Mets. A billion games back and a billion sad sacks wear those colors. At the season’s end they’re without a manager, general manager and dignity. The next 2 men that step into those roles better bring wear condoms on every appendage.

Out of 162 games we owned 97 of them in a year that saw our top stud, Roy Halladay, pitch two no-hitters. We watched Chase Utley call Jonathan Sanchez a pussy on national television and witnessed a journeyman by the name of Wilson “The Goat” Valdez win the hearts and rotten minds of us all as he played manly substitute for half our beat up infield.

We got to witness Roy Oswalt play left-fucking-field in lieu of Rual Ibanez who was taking over for Howard at first after the Big Guy was ejected for damn near eating the third base umpire’s face off in a 16-inning slog against the Astros.

We saw Shane Victorino stick a grand slam up the ass of Johan Santana, and Carlos Ruiz pretty much demoralize Jonathan Broxton every chance he could, batting .1000 off the big horse and almost single-handedly having him demoted from the Dodgers’ closer role.

We can’t forget the aged heroics of Jamie Moyer, who for the first half of the season seemed to be our most reliable starter. At 47, he became the oldest pitcher in the history of the game to toss a shutout back in May against the Braves. Yeah, sure he also broke Robin Roberts record by giving up his 506th career home run, but that’s an indication of longevity, not poor skill.

Really, anyone pissing up a stink about the shit they’ve gone through this summer might as well move to England and follow that other game that’s like baseball, except you wear skirts and have tea breaks.

No one in their right mind can deny that the Phillies are a team to be reckoned with. My whole childhood was spent feeling like I was part of the losers’ class, like my team was a joke. But now we’ve got a team with the balls to dominate the fucking weak. As a city we are sitting pretty, even as we lick our wounds.

I’d like to thank our boys for the ride. Sadly some of you won’t be back next year. Jayson Werth will most likely be embarrassing that fraud Nick Swisher for the big-bucks in New York, and Mike Sweeney will most likely find a new home on a new team that needs man-hugs. You will be missed. Watching Sweeney cry in the post-game 6 interview broke my calloused heart. I think I may start a petition to have that man in the Phils dugout no matter fucking what next year. Don't worry, Mike. None of us want you to go home either.

The rest of you get your beauty sleep, some good wifey pussy and have your shit together for Clearwater. Good show, men. Good show.

See, I was looking on the bright side. It would've been too easy to draw dicks coming out of Howard's face so I went the drunken, take it on the chin route. As my friend Richie Penetrator--wanted in 3 counties-- put it "You gotta enjoy the highs and suppress the lows of sports." I know that sounds idealistically stoic but he does have a point. I could remain in my underwear, crying, masturbating, crying but I'd rather just masturbate.

This isn't the end of TBSS either, Followers. I'll be popping back in from time to time with trade rumors and interesting anecdotes to keep you savages laughing. I am, after all, Mr. Funny Man. Thank yous all for reading, F's. Without the 41 of you out there in interbutthole land I would have no reason to get up before 2pm, sexually.

Fuck new york and GO CLIFF LEE!

JSIII

P.S. Cody Ross is going to be a Phillie next year. I'm not excited either. Probably Jeff Francoeur, too.

NLCS PHI v SF Game 6. Phuck Me...

2010-10-24T06:23:00.000-07:00

Gimme a few days...

NLCS PHI v SF Game 5. Gas Up The Jet, Dickheads!!!!

2010-10-22T09:44:00.000-07:00

That's right, motherfuckers! We're bringing the series back to Phucking CItizens Bank Park with big dickin' Roy Oswalt waiting in a tree-stand with his cross hairs ready to be filled with the head of that prick Cody Ross. Weee, a run on sentence. I must be excited. The Phillies Phight behind our big daddy Roy Halladay to defeat Tim Lincecum and live another day. We also get to hear that stupid fucking Kid Rock song for at least one more night. Something, could be my tingling balls, tells me we'll hear that song for a few more nights. Neon Nights.

What did everybody (including fucking me) say before the start of this series? We all said it would go to fucking 7, most said the Phillies would take it and as of now that's still very plausible. The giant wankers land in Philly to face a pitcher that's undefeated at CBP and a crowd ready to rip them limb from smarmy limb. I don't envy anyone on that team, they thought they had the balls in their mouth in sf before last night even began. At least we get a chance to have them on our turf after all their weak fans had a chance to eat the Phils alive. There is blood in the water and this Shark is ready to feast.

Seriously, fuck Pat Burrell. What a cunt. Has anyone else been noticing his vengeful demeanor throughout this series? Like that fruit has anything to be bitter about. We give that cocky shit a ring and all he can do is pull shit like jawing to Halladay after whiffing or making unsportsmanlike gestures towards the Phils any chance he can. That's actually disrespectful and I'm not one to make bones about that sort of namby-pamby horseshit. I want Burrell to fail. His flagrant ostentation's has to be punished and Chollie has to know it. His is among the many egos on that san fran team that needs checking and it's fucking time to kill.

Follower Karen sent me this photo to "modify". This is art, Karen. This is for you.

Tammy Wynette. This is classy. Too good for this D-O-R-K--F-U-C-K.

I got really nothing to say about this nor do I think that a paint-job would have any lasting effect. Nick fucking Jr, Candyland shit.

How fucking good were Madson and Lidge last night, Followers? For real, Madson was just like "suck my bloated prikc, meat-of-the-order!" Posey, K. Piece of shit Burrell, K. Cody Gloss, FUCKING K. Domination Station. Fuck the Grateful Dead. That's right. Fuck them.

Then bad motherfucker Lidge just comes in and shatters these cunts....MAN. MANLY MAN. With the help of Werth's 9th inning fucking big cock blast Lidge has all the breathing room necessary to paint jizz all over the faces f these sf wine-cooler drinkers.

So Saturday can't come faster for me, F's. I'm really feeling this whole giants are gonna choke theory right now and how could I not? The Phillies are a play-off proven team with the last two match-ups in our favor. Oswalt beat Sanchez in Game 2 and Caine has been more banged up than Courtney Love's veins at CBP. This could be another one of those magical post-season fairy tales that the ESPN film makers cum over for decades to come. Or it could be bad. I'm feeling good, though. Our Phillies are not going down without a large-dicked sword fight with these pricks.

It's Friday, people. Let's get good and liquored up. Tug McGraw used to pitch his best games hung-over. I watch my best games the same.

Fuck new york, sf, Pat Burrell, Cody Ross and kiss your wife or partner on the pussy tonight.

JSIII

NLCS PHI v SF Game 4. A Little Bit Of Perspective

2010-10-21T11:58:00.000-07:00

When I was 24 I was invited to my first wedding ceremony. I know, how did I manage to sidestep that bullshit for so long. It was an ex-girlfriend's sister who was to be married and the ceremony was in upstate PA near Delaware Water Gap. The wedding party was all booked into a very fancy-schmancy hotel where the reception was to take place.

The night before the wedding a few of us sat at the hotel bar placing bets on who the asshole was going to be; the one who couldn't handle the open bar and the loose morals of the reception atmosphere. Kind of a foreshadowing conversation over a snifter of expensive scotch. I didn't pay for it.

So the next day the boring wedding went off without a hitch. I had a few drinks before the ceremony so it was mildly bearable. After all the bullshit and exchanges of vows we headed back to the hotel for drinks and the stupid reception. On the way back we passed a hip-flask around the car to get things started.

By the time we actually sat down for all the corny best-man's speeches and first dance happy horseshit my entire table was tanked. My ex, her sister, her sister's boyfriend, 2 lesbians who looked like dirty dishrags, Casey-boy from the Preston and Steve radio show and his wife. This is what I was surrounded by, a table full of potential enemies.

During one of the embarrassing speeches my ex and I start to bicker over something, probably food, and the table started to notice. That's when Casey-boy chimed in to my ex-broad.

"Hey, J, I haven't seen you in a while"

"Yeah, I think it was at your wedding, Case"

"That's right, you spent the whole entire time making out with Sean Stern"

I remember this wedding. I couldn't attend because I was having my pilonidal cyst operated on for the first time. The ex and I had been together for a good month or so, already exchanged the mushy words and were quite settled in as a couple.

I turned to her as Casey-boy said this while drunkenly doing the math in my head. I said something like "Wait....we were already....you fucking bitch..."

Casey-boy looked genuinely astounded and sorrowful after he saw my expression. He knew he'd blown my ex's secret. His size 8 was in his mouth and he looked ashamed but still smirked like a cock. I would've, too had it been me who'd done the cover-ripping.

Now for some reason, after I called the ex a bitch for cheating on me, the whole table looked at me like I was the asshole. I flipped. I tossed my plate of shitty wedding asparagus food at one of the horse-faced lesbians and stormed out of the reception hall. The ex followed trying to explain but I was having none of it. I was screaming up a fucking nightmare about what a cheating cunt she was. I am very sensitive about infidelity. It's the one thing in the entire world that truly upsets me. That and when the Phillies lose.

All the wedding idiots were guffawing and gawking at us as I was walking off. I think I looked some bridesmaid in the face and called her a linebacker as I left.

I made it to my car as the ex followed crying and I was still livid. Booze and the bomb-drop does not lend itself to rational thought. I think I'd called the girl every disparaging name in the book before climbing into my car and kicking the turn signal off the steering column, still enraged.

I pulled the car out and slammed into the side of some limo. As I was about to drive off I decided that getting out of the car to scream at my girlfriend some more. I left the car where it was and followed her back into the reception. We were screaming at each other and it could not be ignored.

My ex's uncle--who looked like a 70 year old Bill Murray-- tried to intervene by attempting to get me in a head-lock but failed. I threw him into a table which collapsed from his weight.

Finally several men who worked for the hotel grabbed me and, just like a movie, tossed me down the flight of stairs that sat at the entrance of the joint.

As I laid on the ground I couldn't help but laugh. I was the asshole who couldn't handle the open-bar, hahahaha! I was the dickhead that made a scene. I should never bet against myself.

That was a bad night. This game, last night's fucking 5-6 loss to those bay area nerds, wasn't as bad as this night I speak of. It was close but really not as bad. We'll see what happens tonight.

Fuck new york, fuck the dorks, fuck weddings and GO PHILLIES!

JSIII

NLCS PHI v SF Game 3. Take a Phucking Pill

2010-10-20T09:46:00.000-07:00

Fuck, I don't even want to talk about yesterday's game. That was just straight up demoralizing. The thought of having to get up this morning and face another fucking day on this earth was just too much for to take so I killed myself.

Just kidding. I still don't want to talk about that fucking embarrassing thing called Game 3. I think I've never felt so ill watching a sporting event than in yesterday's case. All that nut going to waste. It's a shame.

But be still, Followers. It's seriously only 1-2. Take a deep breath and relax. We'll be OK and if not we'll stab out spouses. Until then just chill and listen to Pantera of something. If you want you can read my littel funny column in the PW here. One dude really liked it today.

That's it for today. I'm really in no mood. Moody Editor. I love you all.

JSIII

NLCS PHI v SF Game 2. I Dig The Freedom, Man

2010-10-19T09:33:00.000-07:00

Sorry, F's for the delay in your news. Sunday night after The Phillies took game 2 with their big cocks I had to quickly and drunkenly write my Philly Weekly column. I got pretty hateful after switching from the shitty Joe Buck and Tim McCarver Gargle Used Douche Show to ESPN radio only to be inundated with Dave Duncan and that other assholemouth completely belittle every single movement the Phils made.

I got pretty raw but really, I do have to slightly hold back because my real feelings and vocabulary get the editors guillotine more often than not. The good thing is this is America and the internet is here for my colorful jizzings to be drizzled all over this here world fucking wide web.

Roy Oswalt, the man with the large cock who fucks your team up with complete and utter confidence even when he doesn't, had a hell of a game Sunday night but you wouldn't fucking now it if you were a blind man. Of his 9 strike outs I think maybe the 8th one was acknowledged in a positive light and even then it was lazy. The man with the piles of dead dear in his shed got nothing but indifference from Buck and McCarver. I actually fucking remember during an at-bat the cock-and-ball-less twin cut to a fucking reel of Cardinal's player from the fucking 40s. Yes, I understand it was to illustrate that we may be the only other NL team to ever win the pennant 3 consecutive times since the '42-44 red birds but for fucking real, dickhead. I'm surprised one of their taped episodes of fucking Top Chef didn't accidentally flash across the screen for a few seconds as they bumbled through another piss-poor inning of droll and banal banter. How do these men still get paychecks for this "work"?

It's not like I'm screaming at the wind here, I'm not alone in my feelings. I did a survey of 40,000 internet people and 38,956 of them said that they feel the duo would benefit from a few classes at the Connecticut School of Broadcasting and a hoagie, yo. Maybe they could live on that island with Tim Robbins and that tennis ball, Spalding and collect their thoughts before they speak. 4 years should be enough time for them to come up with something useful.

I kid, I kid, they have families that love them and would miss them but those same family members should let their relatives know they suck the balls of big animals when put in front of a mic.

Then after I get fucking fed up of those two I decide to jam the game on the radio like people did in the 90s only to be bombarded by even larger sperm whales on ESPN radio. You know the guys, whatshisname and dickformouth. I turned to these dismissive cocksmokes just in time for J-Fucking-Roll to bash that 3-run double off the wall only to be told it wasn't his sheer power and talent that scored those runs, it was mental errors by the giants. I was honestly filled with the rage. I probably would've gone to jail if I was in pissing distance of these men at that particular time. I am a very serious man when it comes to J-Roll. He probably is my favorite player still to this day. Fuck all that slump talk, he's the man that keeps the sheets off the kloset-klansmen that sometimes litter out neighborhoods and the glue that keeps that team together. I'll fucking verbally rifle you any day of the week on the merits of Rollins and no not the singer from the Chile' Peppers.

My point? Fuck these people and their flippant and ignorant attitudes toward out Phils is what makes the world a shitty place. Even when we play great they shit on us. Fuck them and the laurels they rode in on. Fightin's rule, OK?

See, I could never say any of that in a liberal fishrag. It feels great to just type with no real thought, just plain rage and beauty. This is why you come to me. Because I hate so much but I really love you all. This is a great time of year and I wish I could be high-5ing every one of you fucking assholes during these games but I can't. I gots ta make the donuts.

I have to go now because I have a new shitty job which doesn't entail grooming a donkey. The few of you that read this tomorrow should take comfort in the fact that we're experiencing what 26 other cites wish they were but aren't and we've been doing it for 4 years running. Well, 3 years to this point in the play-offs. Go out and slap a dude on the ass, feel good about nature. Whatever.

Fuck new york like I always say and express yourselves creatively. Also fuck Cody Ross, again.

JSIII

NLCS PHI v SF Game 1. Year Of The Bitcher

2010-10-17T08:20:00.000-07:00

FUCK!

This is not the fucking start we were looking to get out to, huh Followers? What are we, Texans? I wait all fucking week for this shit knowing full well that I'd have to be watching from fucking Baltimore and this is what get jizzed in my lap? Not the fucking pitching fuck-fest we were all hoping for, not one bit. Sure Halladay's NLCS debut was not of the Herculean penis shaft of his previous start and rightfully so. It's not really the fucking pitching that concerns me so much as I sit in my boxer-briefs sadly typing this. The same fucking sentiment just keeps rattling through my fucking superior brain;

Where.
The fuck.
Is.....Ryan Howard.
And.
What.
The.
Fuck. is Jimmy.
Rollins doing
OUT THERE, man?

Poetry right? Let's not beat around the bush here with talk about band-boxes and woulda and shoulda. There is a clear reason the Phillies walked away losers. Two key motherfuckers aren't showing up for work.

First I'll rant on the Big Piece for a moment. The man with the big lumber and the large berries gets considerable frustrating as soon as the calendar flips into the cooler months of fright and mischief. Aside from his t-shirt inspiring "Get me to the plate, boys" NLDS heroics of last fall, he's done pretty much dogdick with his tool in the post-season. It's almost as if he can't be even be fucked. Why can't he fucking hit the ball in October? What the fuck is going on in this GODDAMNED WORLD!? I wonder if this frustrates him as much as it frustrates me. I sit and watch this shit happen every night of these series and all I get is a pissed and mumbling Howard walking back to the dugout with his dork in his hand. I'm no expert but I at least have pattern recognition. Something in me tells me Howard may be to proud to listen to someone suggesting that a new approach be taken when the chill rolls in. He sure isn't fucking taking one and it's fucking pissing me off!

And what the fuck is going on with J-Roll? Are the rants and raves of the drunken, almost-klansmen-esque fucksticks justified? Has he lost his fucking timing? It sure fucking looks like it and it breaks my fucking heart. Whiff, whiff, whiff, whiff, whiff...what's he fucking doing up there, trying out alternative energy sources to power Justin Beiber's hair with all that air he's cutting? How many more nights am I going to have to sit in front of douche bags in jean short and have to defend your honor, Roll? Every time you fucking step to the plate I just sound like a dickhead running rampant because I can't help myself but to utter "Here it comes, now the fucking damn breaks!!". It doesn't. We both look like assholes. Seriously, for both of us, Jimmy... shit for our kids and our kid's kids just fucking snap out of it. I got this fucking number 11 jersey. It doesn't say Valdez on the back.

All was not a wash in Phillies land, my Follwers. For all the shitty and dickloving long-balls that bald mutant Cody Ross was sending and all the actually retarded umpire's missed-calls-turned-runs I think we faired well against The Freak. I'm a little concerned that the 3 runs we touched him up for were all of the home run variety but I'll still fucking take it. For us to take a few big swats and come up big on a pitcher who proudly boasts a very, very low number (I'm not fucking looking it up) of dingers allowed makes the nuts tingle. Choochie and The Rooster showed the fuck up last night. Maybe others will follow suit.

Another bright testicle was Ryan Madson's performance last night. A very nice, reliable 1-2-3 buttfucking of 8-inning work. Too bad Lights Out doesn't work into a funny little catch-phrase or pun played on his name. Someone oughtta do that.

Also, this Brian Wilson nerd is a fucking clown. Yes, I know giants fans he did strike out some Phillies and he's a good pitcher but just fucking look at this assdick. I think he has the words "DRUG FREE", or something to that effect, tattooed to his wrist. I know a lot of girls with that tattoo. He also looks like a fucking member of Mudvayne. Yes, that is shitty. Google: Mudvayne.

Phuck it, I'm grumpy but still optimistic. It was only Game 1 and somebody told me we got 6 more of these games to play. It's a beautiful Sunday morning, I'm horribly hung-over because the only way I can play music infront of assholes anymore is to drink heavily and Roy Oswalt is getting a second chance to put his penis up the ass of many hitters tonight. I know I sound like a broken retard-record but seriously, if our slumbering lumber decides to set it's alarm we have a good chance of not getting that urge to beat our spouses into the early dawn. All-in-all I say this could be a decent Game 2. Hopefully I don't get arrested for shitting in public of something like that.

Fuck new york, fuck Cody Ross and his goofy 13 year old face and 60 year old head, fuck Pat Burrell and GO PHUCKING PHILLIES! WAKE 'EM UP, MEN! I want the blood of this wine cooler team.

JSIII

More Phan Mail

2010-10-13T08:46:00.000-07:00

You know, Followers, it's really a shame that I don't have 25 hours in the day to answer the piles and piles of Phan Mail that I receive by the truck-load. It really is. You'd figure that being unemployed would lend itself to such luxuries, right?

This was sent to my friends at The Philadelphia Weekly concerning the first of my many columns to come about our fine Phils.

I'm 62YO and have been reading your publication for many, many years. I obviously enjoy it. I'm not a negative person but I felt compelled to write you about your article in the 10/6-10/12 2010 issue by John Sharkey III. I curse as much as anybody but the gratuitous profanity in that piece was utterly ridiculous. It added absolutely nothing and was a huge deterrent. When Tim Whitaker was with you he tried to be too cute with profanity also but it never bothered me enough to correspond. Profanity has it's place when used intelligently but this was against the pale..just terrible.

Scott77659@aol.com

Well, for a 62 "YO" person you sure have the creepy craigslist lingo conquered so I'll reply in a style in which you're fluent....

28YO SW m4wmt. I'm 5'10" 180 lbs replying to your letter. Looking for readers not offended by childish obscenities, especially those who feel compelled to write letters to the editor of a weekly publication that pays less than you do for sex. I'm 420 friendly, D/D free and deeply sorry you were turned-off by my writing. What I'm really looking for is a versatile readership not upset by metaphors related to anal sex and large male genitalia. This might be asking a lot, I understand hehehe. Sense of humor is a must if you wanna tango with me! Enjoy yourself, it's the play-offs and our Men are kicking ass. Don't worry so much about obsenities as you would the starting rotation. Is Blanton our number 4 guy? Will they start Hamels in game 2 or 3? What about our offense? Do you think Howard's bat will wake up after laying dormant during the last 3 post-seasons? Will Jimmy snap into destructor-mode? These things are much more important to the well-being of our society than postulating over a few poo-poo and pee-pee jokes. Come on, man!!! What kind of grown-ass 62 year old gets upset by obsenities? Get your head out of yer ass and into the game! Party with me! Can host, must send pics with all replies, will reciprocate. GO PHILLIES!!!!!!

s_isforspace@yahoo.com

JSIII

A Shameful Plug

2010-10-12T11:51:00.000-07:00

You see this picture of me chilling with Jesus? Now, you see the shirt I've got on here, Followers? Well, my friends Hershel and Jorge at Mongoloid Tees flowed me today when I was walking home from Whole Foods like a real white person. They have other designs almost more exciting than plain text on a blank shirt for sale here! With fickle player unions having baby-boners over every Tom, Dick and Hymen with a printing press, throwing around terms like "intellectual property" you'd better get on the horse quick. These shitters may be clothing the homeless before those dorks in panda headgear no what hit 'em.

Booyah.

JSIII

NLDS PHI V CIN Game 3. The Iron Curtain Falls. Get It...Reds!

2010-10-11T10:25:00.000-07:00

Sorry for another tardy edition. I had a job interview in Jersey this morning and on my way back some fuckmouth truck driver had rear-ended another truck on the Platt Bridge leaving me and many other hard-working citizens up shit's creek. Worry not, no dickhead truckdrivers were injured in the making of this observation.

Well, Followers, that's one fucking series under our sacks thanks to the fucking cocktacular 5-hit, 9k , zero fucking run performance of King Phucking Cole Hamels that brings the franchise it's first sweep in the post-season and our 3rd striaght trip to the NLCS. I tell you it couldn't have fallen on a reds team more begging to be shat upon. It's been a brief but dramatic ride so let's all revel in this win for a moment before the next fucking dickheads get their play charter to out Phucking house.

I watched most of this game on the phone with my friend Roland who grew up a reds fan in rural Kentucky. He emigrated to our fine city a long, long time ago and has since shaken the ridiculous affliction. He made a great observation. Reds games just look like a fucking Klan rally. Nevermind the fact that Cincinatti is pretty much one lynching away from a $100 gift card at Walmart, it was just the "pureness" of the audience. 45,000 white people waving white towels just waiting to tar-and-feather (sexually) man, dog or spouse that got in their way when the reds lost. Which they did. The Queen City is a crying tonight. The bowel movements will come fast and fierce tomorrow. Add this final blow to the Dusty Baker resume of bizarre failure. I guess he can now get back to the set of Weekend At Bernie's 2 and escape the creepy bastion of fair skin. At least a trip to Atlanta isn't in order.

Still I tip my hat the reds for making to the post-season. This is still baseball and we're all still gentlemen here. Except for Scott Rolen. Fuck him. I'm glad he was the final K of this fucking series. But everyone else, really...kudos! You're a young, healthy team that will probably top yer division next season. Feel good you brought your city back into the picture.

Here's great screen shot stolen from the internet of obviously unphased Roy Oswalt. Looks like the wild 3 earned run "shelling" he received by our mighty vanquished didn't chap his cock in the least bit. This fucking photo is probably on 45 thousand blogs right now but a photo of Brandon Phillips holding a douche with a tampon string hangin out surely fucking ain't!

Here's a photo of The Best Second Baseman In the Universe crying after the loss last night. I really want to be able to feel bad for this dude because it really fucking hurts to lose like this, just ask anyone of us to recall 2007. I truly hate to wallow in human misery, I even feel bad form Brooks Conrad after his 3 error outing yesterday which cost the braves the game, but Phillips was asking for this. Brash and outlandish boasting gets you nowhere unless your name is Jimmy Fucking Rollins. Still in my heart I feel a sad tug for you, Brandon. Keep it shut next time or shut us up. Still no crying in shit-talking, ya girl.

Here's what love looks like in a truly platonic atmosphere of a men's locker room. Sweeney, baby! Love this man!

Of course the obligatory jizzpagne shot!

The Clog, F's. will lay dormant for the next few days unless any serious issues need to be addressed. We got a week off until one of those ninny team in the other series finally pulls pud. Saturday the Phucking NLCS starts in my fucking town and I couldn't feel more fucking confident for our Men. It's not like we have to go over this shit again. 1-2-3 buttfucking, Chooch, Mad Dog and Lidgey.....If the bats wake up we're fucking blitzkrieg!

Take a few day to yourself, call in sick maybe. Call your mother, perhaps. Do something nice. Help an old woman have an orgasm across the street. Whatever. Just savor this fucking time. Don't go turning smug on me and keep an eye peeled on the street for edition 2 of The Big Sharkey Show's printed hate-shits in the Philadelphia Weekly. This paid analyst couldn't have done it with out you, my 39 Followers!

Fuck new york and oh yeah....

I still got it.

JSIII

NLDS PHI v CIN Game 2. Aroldis Schmaroldis, An Experience Regaled

2010-10-09T06:39:00.000-07:00

Since I have a wedding to go in an hour I'm just gonna kinda ramble free-form. You don't come to me for reliability anyway. I was there, though and most of you weren't.

First before I tell you of my experience attending possibly the greatest live sporting event of my 28-and-a-half year (like a fucking 6 year old) I'd like you to take a look at this photo:

This is my fucking dad, JS jr. That's right, Followers, I was born from human seed and all of my years of hard work and fortuitous masturbation have finally culminated in my finest artisitc offering to the world. This photo. This is Philly Phan joy captured forever.

This photo was taken right after Jimmy Rollins sent the fly ball that Jay Bruce would've caught had he not been a cocky shit, telling the crowd an inning previous that they would "see us on Sunday with a 1-1 lead in Cinci!" This photo is what instant Karma looks like in relation to a sporting crowd. You dropped a ball "in the lights"? That's yer excuse? Really? You're a professional baseball player and your dropping fly-balls in the lights. Pairless, you are my friend. That dropped ball lost your team the game. By no means did we not win the game but you certainly tucked in your our teammates to bed a little too early. Your little dingleberry mistake coupled with the best 2nd basemen in the game's equally as cocked-up bobble let Utley and Werth score for basically our dugout. It's teams like the Phillies that will capitalize on the mistakes of those not seasoned for play-off ball. Just be happy you're here, reds.

Nevermind that Roy Oswalt had the heebee-jeebees from pitch one, it happens. Obviously. You've given him trouble all year and we all in the back of our minds kinda saw that coming. It doesn't fucking matter though. The bullpen backed him up. They got paid for getting the motherfucker done.

Chad Durbin picking off Drew Stubbs in the 6th was amazing, by the way. I was chilling with my boy Chuck, having my occasional fag when that shit went down. Hetero-man embrace ensued.

I caught some flack for my Philadelphia Weekly column this week. A random homosexual man named Chuck D. (I'm sure not the Chuck D. from the band Ice Cube) sent me an email stating that I should "cut out the Phobic shit, the Phils have plenty of gay fans, too!"

Look Chuck, I got nothing but love for the LGBT community but where you got the idea that my article was promoting some sort of malice towards alternative lifestyles is beyond me. If it was the fact that I used "hetero-embrace" in a sentence it was because I was trying to illustrate that this is a time when men, who would more likely punch you for enjoying Top Chef, find it appropriate to drop the whole "you're a fag" shit and get real with his Phillies Brethren.

Whatever, back to my little story. Being in the house last night was pretty special, I must say. Watching Cuban Missile Station, Aroldis Chapman--who's claim to fame is that he throws 100-105 fastballs--get fucking beat around a bit. When he hit Chutley I thought the fucking sky was going to fall. Fucker got his though. He was on the mound for Jay Bruce's little tampon befuddlement. 3 unearned runs for the flame throwing Cubano. Welcome to Philadelphia, Aroldis. Now go fucking rethink a straight fastball with no movement in out house.

I'm surpirsed none of the reds got their fucking heads taken off after 3 of our boys got drilled. You fucking throw at Choochie and at Ben Francisco's head when I'm at the helm and your fucking mothers are getting drilled.

Now the Philles head to fucking Cinci with a 2-0 lead in this fucking series, Jay, and Cole Hamels hasn't been beaten by yous guys....ever!

I can't even speak today because my voice is so roached. I've never felt that way at a sporting event bedfore. I wanted pure war. The entire house did. It was complete and utter unity through bloodlust. Please come and enjoy the Phillies live if you ever have the chance, rest of the world. You'll never think of us the same. Phuck everyone else though, really.

Time to get in my stupid SUV and drive to Washington D.C to watch our friend THE CRIPPLE get married! I got themk a card and drew a walker in the dudes hands on the front of it and wrote the word "HOLE" as in the band on the woman's dress. It's fitting.

Fuck new york and watch your mouth, you could talk shit about our boy Roy Halladay and then get taken out of the next game with an oblique strain in the 2nd inning. More karma.

JSIII

NLDS PHI v CIN Game 1. The Biggest Doc On Earth

2010-10-07T06:21:00.000-07:00

I think we all know where this edition is headed, Followers.

"If I was Roy Halladay my locker would be cleaned out, I would retire. A post-season no-hitter?... I'm out!" - Mitch Fucking Williams

"The greatest moment in Philadelphia Sports History." - Michael Jack Schmidt

"Roy Halladay had the LARGEST dick in the history of the known universe. We are all lucky to see him use it." - John Sharkey III, paid analyst for the Philadelphia Weekly

What fucking else can you really say about this super-human, sack of ages feat? Every person watching that game last night watched history unfold, pitch-by-pitch. They watched a game they will all remember and one day regale their stupid grandkids with at family get-togethers or in jail.

9 innings. 28 batters. 104 Pitches 8 K. 1 BB. ZERO FUCKING HITS. Again. ROY. PHUCKING. HALLADAY. Motherfucker even drove in the 2nd run of the game. M.A.N. Shane Victorino's hard-nosed ball-bangers and a few totally shakey innings by reds start Edinson Volquez was all the support necessary. 4-0 would read the board for 7 innings and end that fucking way.

What did I fucking say in my column yesterday, F's? (I am a gloating dick) The fact that Roy wasn't post-season road tested yet meant absolutely jackshit and it certainly means even fucking less now. Motherfucker came to the party with all the necessary ingredients for a rager. If you're waking up today with a clear head or not even the slightest tinge of a hang-over you are a fucking dickhead and I never want to party with you. I feel like a cummed-in sock that's been used to wipe down the beerpong table after a caligula-esque butter-the-bread session. It's wonderful!

How about that fucking little whiny bitch Orlanda Cabrera.

"He and the umpire pitched a no-hitter. He gave him every pitch. We had no chance."

Really, dude? REALLY? Classless. You've just added yourself to the list of whiny little pussies that litter your team's roster alongside the likes of unmissed ex-Phil Scott Rolen. Your boy Johnny Gomes gave Roy props, he knew what the fuck was up. What the fuck is your problem? Even you fucking skipper, Dusty Baker was impressed. You need to really take a look at yourself in the mirror, Mr. Cabrera and realize that if this keeps up, you might have people getting you confused with the biggest asscock on the block, MELKY Cabrera. Take a deep, long look.

Regardless of how butt-hurt some of the reds may you cannot detract from the moment. It was actually historical, not poppycock fat chewing. Everyone alive in Philadelphia that supports the P was a part of it. I know, mushy sentimental crapola from the man you come to for just the opposite. Enjoy it, it doesn't happened often. Just ask Don Larsen, the last large nutter to toss a perfect post-season game back in '52. Breathe it in. Get high like pcp high. Go out and fight 8 fucking cops. It's cool. They watched the fucking game, too. They can tell you it was like watching Metallica record Master Of Puppets. Even better. Yeah, I said it. Even Phucking better.

I wonder how many new goofy t-shirts I'm going to be tempted to buy commemorating this event. Probably 4 or 5 for me, folks. That's just how I roll. I love t-shirts.

Tonight we can sit back and watch some other fucking teams play and not really care too much aside from the knaves/sf outcome. My advice, get sexy tonight with someone you care about or don't care about. Unwind with a bottle of wine, some anal beads and some nitrous poppers. Relax and don't fall asleep concussed. That ends poorly.

Fuck new york and go to Modells and buy something with Halladay's name on it. For our future. The future of Mankind. GO PHILLIES!

JSIII

Followers, I've Fucking Hit

2010-10-06T06:42:00.000-07:00

Today, Followers, marks a momentous occasion in this intellectual juggernauts career. The culmination of months of not-very-hard work has finally come to fruition; I'm a paid motherfucking sport writer now.

The folks down at the Philadelphia Weekly have found my superior words and thought worthy of their hallowed pages, amongst the esteemed company of Dan Savage, local sex ads and shitty local band listings. It'll make great wrapping paper come the stupid alternative holiday your college friends invented in lieu of Christmas because your families were ashamed to have you home.

They nipped a little venom from me words but, all-in-all, they remained true to you Editor. Here she is in internet form. Enjoy.

http://www.philadelphiaweekly.com/news-and-opinion/The-Big-Sharkey-Show.html

In other news, I'm back from Ireland. Finally. That place is beautiful and rich in history but nobody cares about the Phillies. AT ALL. Next...

On the train to Dublin I saw something that's not very common in Ireland but all too common across the Irish Sea. I watched a little black british man pummel the fuck out a Eastern European. It was this heathen cunt:

and this woman. He's wearing a yankees jeff-cap. Filth.

Believe me but I was truly too far to do anything about the grievous assault as it took place before the train guards broke in. I was about 8 rows away and surrounded by Irish 90-year-old woman screaming that the man had no manners. Seriously.

Supposedly the woman called the man a monkey and then slapped him but, from where I was sitting, this did not justify him getting on-top of his chair to fully bash her head with his boot while ripping at her hair.

I'm not lying. Check out this top-fucking-notch journalism. Sheesh. What a fucking Pulitzer worthy piece.

Tonight. Is. The. Phucking. Night. Followers. The roster is set, sorta and the blood is boiling. I had constant dreams last night about this fucking game. I'm actually freaking out. I haven't been so anxious since my first herpes swab. I'm fucking manic. I walked to Wawa at 6am and said "GO PHILS!" to every person I crossed paths with. Brotherhood. NLDS Game 1. 8 Hours away. BOOOOOOOOOOYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!

OK, now I'm going to jerk-off to my article. Fuck new york and, Really, Let's go Phils! No time for cryptic bullshit.

JSIII

October 3 2010 PHI v ATL Game 3. A Gift, A Choke And The Table Is Set

2010-10-03T16:51:00.000-07:00

You fucking know that if Danys Baez hadn't seen the fucking mound in this game we would've walked out of atl with 98 wins on the season. Not that I'm discontented with the 97 heads we've rolled by any means, I just find it funny how Chollie place our arguably worst pitcher in the game when he did. I mean, he really couldn't have gift-wrapped it with less subtlety, my man. If Oswalt had stayed in for 1 more inning the game would have ended with something like a 7-4 outcome in our favor. Silly Bagner giving up 3 runs to Exxon Valdez and Benny Francisco was a decent enough consolation and really, who gives a splat? They have their own hole to dig now.

One thing is for sure. Danys Baez is an over-the-hill lump of poopy-doop. He just ain't got the goods no mo'. If he gets a second of playing time in the post-season you know Chollie wishes suffering upon his great supporters. Baez' contract is basically fucking us into an expensive Cuban paperweight because not a single team will take this man next year. Good golly, Ms. Molly.

But shit, let's not fret. The regular season is over and the PHUCKING PHIGHTIN'S have the best record n the competition, the first time in franchise history! I know that seem retarded but, yeah, it's true. Just another black mark smudged off the permanent record. Pride-filled me.

The NL play-offs were finally fucking delineated thanks to the weak padres tanking it to sf in the final hours of need. This pits the knaves and giants together in a series that no-one really gives a shit about because that series will be and easy walk-over for the master's of the microbrew. That's just my prediction, though, F's. The giants have enough trouble scoring runs on their own without me jinxing them. Meanwhile, we have the dickbags from the Queen City to contend with. Apt.

(Taken from the blog I linked below. I give it a B-)

I see no good coming to the red in the post-season if not only for karma. Boastful second basemen and dirty, bitch-fighting starting pitchers litter their line-up card like the fucking streets of Camden. Maybe Joe Morgan will at least be walking around naked in the locker room challenging anyone within swinging distance to a (flaccid) sword fight.

I'm in Dublin today and then back to the fucking U.S. of A. Thank God..... I'm getting sick of strangers and new things. I'm sick of broadening my fucking horizons, I didn't just graduate college. I want fucking baseball, my house, bud lite, Imperial Pizza and proper English for the next 6 months. I will not tolerate culture.

I have a little secret, Followers OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWW!!!!! It will be waiting for you all in the pages of the Philadelphia weekly this Wednesday. Are you excited to read you're fearless and sexy Editor's words splashed across pages usually filled will articles about community gardens, vegan tampon alternatives and 3rd tier independent hip-hop? Get horny cause here it fucking comes!

Fuck new york and enjoy the next few days. This shit hits it on Wednesday night.

JSIII

October 2 2010 PHI v ATL Game 2. A Tardy Smart-Ass & A Shitty Opponent

2010-10-03T11:29:00.000-07:00

Seriously, this sucks to be fucking writing this thing as the next day's game is beginning but I'm on fuckng vacation. Blow me. I'm busy saying goodbye to 30 new relatives for 15 minutes at a time.

Instead of realy talking about thePhillies 7-fuckng-0 walk over of the for-some-reason-hopeful-wc-bound braves I will post pictures of a castle. We know the Phillies rule, OK? Vance Worley for 5th spot 2011! Get ready for a really fucking phoned-in post.

Me and Jesus

A cast member of the movie Puppet Master retired in this castle.

Irish rec center circa 1500 A.D.

The internet in Ireland works as well as spanish fly. Fuck it, I'm gonna stream the game and enjoy my vacation. John Mayberry just told atl to go fuck themselves. See you fucksticks tomorrow. Fuck new york and "say hello to my little buddy!"

JSIII

October 1 2010 PHI v ATL Game 1. Salami Of Sexual Proportions

2010-10-02T05:54:00.000-07:00

I read a few funny quips pertaining to last night's game. The first one is from contributor Chuck Meehate and it made me smile.

"Pounding these chumps even when they don't have to!"

The next one come's from my friend JT. It made me smile and also made my penis shrivel the way a truly awful should. It was delivered just seconds ago via his Bring You A's Game facebook account.

"Beating the braves is just, um, BEACHY!"

What an asshole, right? I kid, I kid, Followers. JT may need to work on his word play but his sentiments are Phucking echoed in my macho brain as are Chucks. Beating the braves is fucking awesome and don't let anyone else fucking tell you different. Especially when Kyle Kendrick is on the mound. It's even more insulting.

He did Phucking great by the way, F's. Maybe it was the no-pressure situations of facing a team clinging to a wc play-off berth while we have our minds on bigger twerps. If it weren't for The Polish Chef: Mike Zagurski and his half-assed Nate Robertson impersonation, Kyle's fruits would've gone unfettered. Still, 11-5 ain't fiddle sticks, laddy.

You know after J-roll bashed the dick off of Mike Dunn's little butter-ball I was expecting to turn to facebook for a flurry of wildly sexual exclamations and nuptial offerings thrown Jimmy's way. Not shit, nothing. If you internet warriors are gonna sleep on this awesome cockular feat we certainly are fucking not!

James, you are now the first motherfucking Phillie to be honored with the soon-to-be-dubious-and-revered SALAMI OF SEX award. If you were in bed with a woman you would be called a cocksman. Here you are simply the man. Tip o' the hat to ya.

OK, F's, I have to go. I don't think I have to explain with shit like this littering the countryside:

Tonight Vance Worley gets the start. Should a bloody bewdy. Fuck new york and I enjoyed Beaches, starring Bette Midler.

JSIII

September 29 2010 PHI v WSH Game 3. Pine Lined With Fine Wine

2010-09-30T10:19:00.000-07:00

Fuck, Followers. If this is the type of shit we're gonna be treated to by our bench-riders then they might as well open up a fucking BBQ restaurant as an outlet to serve their large-testicled ass-beatings cause they certainly ain't getting enough field time under Chollie. A 7-1 fingering as a result of 2(two) jizzjolts from Benny Fran and solo shots each by Sweener and Mayberry jr was on the menu last night. Do you like my shitty food service metaphor? Neither do I, it's shit. Joe Blanton might, he's a big fella with a big sack of stuffs for the opposition as displayed in his performance, as well. I really hope I'm worrying for nothing about next week. I guess it's just fucking jitters, the same I've had for the last 3 years.

What's up with fucking Ben Francisco? What the fuck did I say yesterday? The grass, the dirt, the ball, the bat, the look, the touch and feel of Satin all miss this little non-Latino-with-Latino-named motherfucker. My friends at Utley's Corner posed a question that's been rolling around my stupid head since the end of last August; How many other teams would be boner-up to have him as a starter? He hits well, he's great defensively, he's adorable. What the fuck is the problem here?

Now, I'm not saying that we should dumped anyone for him but the situation in which we are missng a starting outfielder is about to arise next season with the imminent FA walking of The Rooster. We know he's not coming back so that leaves a big hole out there on the green part of CBP. Ibanez, the man you all wanted sacked in June, is Phucking tits again and ain't going anywhere til at least 2012 so he's cool. I don't see Fryin' Hawaiian going anywhere and Dom Brown--as awesome as he's been for us as a benchy-- will most likely not be starting next season. Ben Franscico starter or Ben/D-Bro duty split? The latter seems more likely where as the former would be a hindrance to young talent. John Mayberry jr seems too raw to give anything more than a September call-up so we can leave him gestate for awhile....

I'm rambling. My point? We'll be just fucking fine is Werth walks. Not that I wouldn't have him back. We'll be just Phucking Phine. Ben Franscico, your efforts and talents do not go unnoticed around these parts. TBSS has saluted you and will continue to Phucking salute you until you're starting for some other gay team. Until then, you're cool.

How about Big Joe getting revenge for his last start against these national pricks with a little 1-run bewdy? He's been making a strong case for a 4th post-season starter if the need be. What more should you expect from this man? His mandatory 6-7 and no more innings have been getting sharper as the season wears on, his injuries have obviously finally healed and he's swearing more at umpires. Man? MAN. Give him the ball if we're up 3-0 on the reds in a series. Phuck them all.

Check it out, even in Ireland they know what's what:

Ok, I guess I have to punch more fucking potatoes down my fat face because my extended family here in Waterford refuse to let my bowels be. I really have no time to even fucking write The Clog with all the food and straining to understand words. Tonight the Phils have a breather so I may take one as well. I know the editions have been suffering but have mercy, I'm a travellin' man by force of hand not choice. It's a fucking arduous test getting this shit done with the slipshod, Keebler elves style internet offered on these shores. And what the fuck can you really say about the last week of the season? Yes, I'm excited but I'm also bloated. Whatever, this is still the best read on "the net" Phils-wise. Piss on everything else. I have to go, my mother-in-law is screaming and it's food time again. Phuck me.

Anyways, fuck new york, let your dog shit on them. 95 wins, motherfuckers.

JSIII

September 28 2010 PHI v WSH Game 2. Top Of The 4th To You, Laddy

2010-09-29T09:40:00.000-07:00

Well, Followers. I think we can safely say that we are fucked. Hung-over maybe? Falling 1-2 to the mighty warshington gnationals in the heat of a late September sacksweat-fest......

PSYYYYYYYYYYCHE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (in the voice of Tron) By the way the name of today's edition is joke my wife always says during games. I know what yer thinking. "How did you marry such a shitty comedian?"

The only thing that really sucks about clinching your division a week before the regular season ends in having to watch your pine-riders finish the year out for ya. Mr. Bocock and sons did a great job out there last night but honestly, who gives a shit? Most of these duders will not see the show otherwise so we're not even glimpsing the future. Throw 'em a bone for the season is owned. Poor Ben Francisco. The grass misses hm in Cleveland. Oswalt still got the ball and the mound for 5, giving up 2 hits and 1 meager run to a full strength (sorta) side.Apart from Roy's ability I think his brash anti-media sentiments go a long way in this city. Motherfucker hates reporters and rightfully so. The start of the season has the man reading of his own washed-up existence on a sub-.500 team. Now look where the Phuck he's sitting. You know if he could piss on someone at the Houston Chronicle mother's tea and toast he would.

Now that Os has had his last dance for the reg the rotation is fucking set. 1-2-3 ROY TOY, KING COLE aka COLIO and BIG BUCK PHUCKING HUNTER. This, if anything, should be interesting. By interesting I mean blood curdling for any other team to have to face. Fuck, I got tickets to game 2 of the DS. See you Phuckers there!

So, I've been in Ireland for the last 30 hours and I'm into it. Lots of green shit and drunk gibberish. It reminds me of nowhere. It's it's own entity, separate in every way, especially in respect to the rest of the world. Kind of like Fishtown. It's the only country that rivals Italy in Ancestral T-shirt Boasting By Dickheads. I'll break down my initial impressions of the place in the simplest of terms; the old pros and cons.

PROS

1. Thin Lizzy were from here. This is a great stat to have on your record. It almost negates Enya, Bono and The Procalaimers. Who were from Scotland. One time my old boss asked if I like "The Boys From Ireland" like a real dickhead. I was stumped. "Thin Lizzy?" I replied. He was no stoked. U2 fans are serious fucking retarded weirdos.

2.Everyone is drunk and makes no sense. This is awesome because you can basically say anything to anyone and nod your head.

3. The Beer. I know, I know this is fucking cliche's as balls but it really is god fucking brew and with the women they got running around this village it oughta fucking be. I had one of those thick, dark fucking beers that nerds like to wear the t-shirt of in Boston. It's very good on this side of the big ocean. I'm not saying pond.

CONS.

1. Everyone here is Irish. Yeah, I get it, You like to drink a lot and sing and then poop your pants. It's cool in The Wire and in breakfast cereal but when you're surrounded you just have to fucking take a knee about every 25 minutes and hide in a bathroom.

2. No Americans. This fucks up any country for me. They wouldn't call America the greatest nation on Earth if it wasn't true. Why not import some Americans to every country and see what happens.The Earth might kick ass someday.

3. No Baseball. This also fucks up anything and any place for me. Now, don't get me wrong. These Irish are hard cunts and play very aggressive sports like Gaelic Football and Rugby but I still could never live in a land without the Great American Pastime like Australia.

Let's hope tonight we can squeak one more win outta the bench to claim fully home field through the duration of the post-season. Who am I kidding and what the fuck am I worried about? Get back to work, Followers. I know I take up too much of your precious time. If you'd like to call me on your break email me. It's 5 dollars a call and you must host. s_isforspace@yahoo.com.

Fuck new york and vodafone is a fucking dumpster full of used maxis.

JSIII

September 27 2010 PHI v WSH Game 1. 21 Clinch Street

2010-09-28T07:38:00.000-07:00

Phuck everyone right now. This is our time to shine, to spray shitty sparkling wine all over one another in sexual festivities as the Phucking Phillies seal the deal on their 4th consecutive division championship with an 8-0 bashing of the gnats. After all the fucking bullshit injuries and naysayer and braves hype we Phucking walk away 5 days before the end of regular seasn play with a flag in our pockets, ready to destroy. A 2 hitter, Roy, are you shittin' me? If anyone has doubts about this man's ability to kick the bull in the dick in the clutch you might as well just fucking lop your cock off right Phucking now. The Men bash and bash away and behind it all is his fucking evil assassin.

Oh yeah, it was also this mean motherfucker's 21st fucking W. If they don't deliver the Cy Young to this man inside of Anne Hathaway's vagina this world is thee most fucked.

My life has seriously turned into an endless cycle of planes, bitchy 57 year old stewardesses and sleep depravation. I am now in Ireland on 30 minutes sleep being ear bashed by 30 new relatives. Please forgive my brevity on such a joyous occassion, Followers. I think we all deserve a Phucking rest. Back to the play-offs we go.

Party.

Fuck new york and sleep well, Phriends. I will have more detailed descriptins of my assholish exlpoits and this place caled Ireland tomorrow. Expect Joyce-like eloquence, F's.

JSIII

September 26 2010 PHI v NYM Game 3. Hefty Hefty Clinch Sack

2010-09-27T06:27:00.000-07:00

It sure is a shame it had to go down this way, Followers, it is. Dropping the last muts series of the year, the finale of which being a NL east clinching situation. It really is a shame that our boys couldn't fucking crack open them champagne bottles and jizz each other down like a boring night at the frat house in victorious, orgasmic glee with the muts firmly under our heels for yet another season. It's a real fucking bonzo bummer that the umpire wanted to shove a lamp post up Cole Hamels' dickeye rather than do their jobs. It's also blows that we could hit for fucking dick with RISP. It's a crying Phucking shame, really. Especially on Fan Apreesh Day.

But you know what ain't such a shame? That we, THE MIGHTY PHUCKING PHIGHTIN'S, are no fucking matter what, going to the fucking post-season while the loathsome flushing queens get to head back to their off-season carwash gigs and pending assault cases! Phuck you. There is mathematically no way the Phils could be eliminated as no one in the National League can best the Phillies 93 wins. Even with your little final gasp of victory you cannot stop shit. You are weak. Blow me. My penis.

I think it's pretty apparent that the muts masterfully laid down for the braves in some tawdry attempt to thwart the Fightin's chance at a division title. I honestly would not put this hypothesis of mine past these cretins from the upper borough.

And really, we have to fucking get our shit together with RISP. Yesterday was a fucking joke. I think we stranded maybe 36,000 runners with a 2 run deficit. I understand the urge to play your asses off might be waining with the clinch possibility seeming so inevitable but fuck, if we're to stay hot we have to play hot-to-Phucking-trot all the way. No Phucking mercy for the weak. Complete and utter vagina covering domination. Grind your teeth, bear the fuck down, wear women's underwear or dirty condoms, whatever. Stay horny.

Could it be the clinch jitters? Anxious to finish? I know the feeling. It's like the old joke.

Me: How can you tell when a woman's has had an orgasm?

Chris Wheeler: Are you serious?

It was still a Phucking good time at the park yesterday as I got to meet Follower Karen. It was good to see her hurling drunken abuse at any mats fan within earshot. I think I saw her even whip out a Phillies themed blow-dart pipe. It's amazing what you can do while yer on the clock @ CBP.

I'm leaving the fucking country AGAIN tonight, F's but this time for a much shorter duration. I'm going to Ireland to drink a lot and stalk Adam Clayton, sexually. Hopefully I can buy a Guinness shirt and have a whiskey with the town leper as he peels potatoes for his village. Or plan a bombing. I'll be home the day before the play-offs start. Just letting yous know The Clog might be filled with dorky images of an American abroad being as ignorant as possible on purpose to show the rest of the world who's fucking boss. We are. Please don't crowd my family at the airport for autographs, I'll be having a blog signing at the Wawa at Girard and York next month, yo.

If we get 'er done tonight in DC it's only fitting that Doc be on the mound. He has been with it all season. Hopefully all The Men watched the season premier of Eastbound and Down last night for inspiration. It was the titties. "If there's one thing I hate more than anything in the world, it's soccer! And I hate when people do it around me!" Nuff said.

Fuck new york and most times use protection.

JSIII

September 25 2010 PHI v NYM Game 2. What Phucking Ever

2010-09-26T08:04:00.000-07:00

Motherfucker. Though, what the fuck did we expect, F's? Did we really fucking think they'd win every fucking game for now until November? Well, yes we did. That doesn't mean it was gonna happen. But to go down like we did last night to the fucking barfbag full of used tampons they call the new york mets. One shittily pitched inning and one botched dp ball and we're up shit crick with a piece of petrified dog stool for a paddle.

We fucking sure as hell can't pin this loss on Kyle Kendrick. Motherfucker looked like his middle name was Roy for the first 6 innings. Working quick, getting ahead in the counts. Not taking shit. Manly man. It all just went to shit, what can you do when everyone's hacking at the plate with clinch fever. Just too anxious and too complacent. It's not KK's fault we only drove in 2 runs with 1 hit. He didn't miss and inning ending dp ball, Howard did. He didn't give up a bases-clearing double, Durbin did. It wasn't Kendrick who brought in the White Flags from the bullpen. Poor and complacent defense killed Kyle's campaign of domination.

But you know what, Followers? Who gives a Phuck? Our magical numero is still 2. The sky is still blue. The birds are still fucking in the tress. We were going to lose a couple of these games, it's not fucking Greek yogurt it's baseball. Take a deep breath a realize you're a Phillies Phan. Life is good.

Cole Hamels takes hill in Philadelphia just about the time Livan Hernadez takes mound in DC. Today could be the day or it could not be the day, at least we've got the odds in out favor.

I'm going to start drinking now. Fuck new york and do something nice for neighbor like trim his hedges or fuck his wife. Suckinonachiledog.

JSIII

September 24 2010 PHI v NYM Game 1. Phils Phly, Muts Cry

2010-09-25T04:31:00.000-07:00

HEEEEEELLOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! (in the voice of Mrs. Doubtfire, that bitch)

It's a great morning to be a Phillies Phan, idnit? Joe Blanton's studly fucking performance and Shane Fucking Victorino with his macho nut RBIs bring R.A Dorkey and the cryin' muts to their knees in last night's 3-2 victory. The Phucking Magic Number is 2 since the knaves got flogged by the gnats, we seal the best record in the fucking entire league and we bring our winning streak to a happy 11 games. The Testicles are full of power.

So how about Big Joe Blanton, Followers? Aside from those pesky, shitty high sinkers that don't seem to sink and usually end up souvenir's, he's having a pretty fucking good conclusion to his season. 7 inning, 6 hits , 6 Ks and 2 runs on one stupid mistake in the form of an Angel Pagan 2-run meatball bash. Quality start. He's going into the post season with the notion that he is Phucking ready to ball-up for the 4th starter spot. I feel much fucking better than I did say June about him possibly getting the ball in a game 4 situation, at least for a DS or CS situation. He's not pretty but he's effective. He want to win and he wants to fuck. Questions?

Shane VIC-TO-RI-FUCKING-NO woke up on the right side last night with a sexual little lead off homer and RBI double in the 2nd off the knuckler. It's about time this little fucker did something around her, I KID, I KID! Happy to see this little Hawaiian motherfucker get some sank on the wood. He gets the big hits but does he get the big sandwich?

After the Angel Pagan 2-runner in the 4th to tie it up, some beautiful little Panamanian Prince name Carlos Phucking Ruiz came up and said suck my Latino Boner. He smoked a stupid knuckle ball down the fucking right field line to score Raul Ibanez--who singled and reached second on a cock-up pitch-- and took back the lead, 3-2. The lead by the way that would not fucking waver for the rest of the fucking game.

A lead that was kept by plays like fucking Joe Blanton taking a face plant to stymie a Pagan bunt up the 1st baseline by shoveling the ball to Big Piece in time to get the out. What a sick motherfucker.

A lead that was kept by Ryan Phucking Madson being a legend with is 1-2-3 8th and a lead that was kept by Brad Phucking Lidge and his 4 out save because Ike Davis doesn't know how to fucking call a time-out properly. Seriously, if you didn't see the last out of this game go back and fucking check it out you'll find it, this is the internet.. It was serious bullshit and if that ball went up the fucking middle do you think they'd be bitching about a t-o then? Amateur.

Also, David Wright is a fucking whinging pussy. In a quote to ESPN he states that the slide by Chase Utley into Ruben Tejada to break up a dp in the was crossing a line, that he thought it was wrong, that it's cool and over but then ends his ball-less quip by saying the team will gun for Utley.

"Chase, he plays the game hard. He plays the game passionately. But there's a thin line between going out there and playing the game hard and going out there trying to get somebody hurt. That's a thin line. Nobody is going to push us around. We're going to have our teammate's back. I think cooler heads prevailed, but we've got to let them know that over on our side we didn't appreciate it and that we're going to go out there and have our teammates' backs. I think our bench let him know. As far as I'm concerned, it's done. We move on. We'll reevaluate the way we go into second base."

I'm sorry, David. Really, Chase didn't mean to kick some dirt into your fellow teammate's vagina. In Philadelphia we play a game called BASEBALL and we play it fucking hard. You can also tell your jawing little buddy Mike Pelfrey to fucking get over it and grow 2.

Chollie better be standing at the stairs of the fucking dugout with a shotgun to make sure these 18.5-games-back-babies don't do anything stupid.

The braves will have already finished their little game by the time Kendrick takes hill tonight. We'll know fucking full well whether or not we can clinch the shit. Phuck it, one game at a time. Keep your head down and play it fucking hard and it will come. No time for the weak, only the true strong cunts. Sorry, I'm watching the AFL Grand Final as I type this. The announcers are quite filthy.

Fuck new york and get the Phuck over it.

JSIII

When There's No Phillies.....

2010-09-24T06:13:00.000-07:00

.....there's always t-shirts.

Yesterday, in an attempt to fill my stupid life with worthwhile tasks while the Phillies weren't on, I stopped by my pal Ralph's screen printing shop, Awesome Dudes. Ralph--being the Ledge-cunt that he is--said I could come down and print a 17 and a Jordan on the back of one of my old Phils' shirts to pay tribute to the 4th best 1st baseman the Fightin's roster was ever graced with, Ricky Fucking Jordan.

Ralph did a bit of clickity-clackity on his little computer like a bearded genie and 5 minutes later I was burning the fuck out of my new Ricky Jordan screen. You see, he's no soft cock or weak animal. Man.

After some spraying and the mashing of some ink and my muscles, I was tossing my shirt down the dryer the wrong way like a dumbshit with the imprinted name and number of a legend. Moments after I stopped being a stupid dickhead, I was the proud owner of a Phucking new/old RFJ shirt. Very large testicles.

I honor of Ralph and his men being Awesome Dudes....This Hoagie's for you.

Tonight I may be attending the Blanton v Dickie series opener. It all depends whether or not my sister's beerpong team made it to the semi's. I guess I'll find out around 2 or 3 pm.

Fuck new york for all your screen printing needs don't Phuck around. Go to the Awesome Dudes. Just keep them the fuck away from your kids.

JSIII

September 22 2010 PHI v ATL Game 3. Not Tonight, Bobby

2010-09-23T07:16:00.000-07:00

Last night I had to watch the game at a yuppy bar that didn't serve Yuengling and had new age women handing out sample of experimental food. It was my best friend's birthday and we both knew the bartender so it wasn't too shitty.

I was seriously losing my fucking mind during this mangled pitcher's duel. There was no way in hell I could pay attention to other people while Roy Fucking Big Buck Hunter was fucking mowing cunts down. For 7 innings he displayed a vulgar power just barely matched by his opposition, Tommy Hanson who was trying to give Bobby Cox his 2500th career win in our fucking house. Bullshit.

After innings and innings of cock-teasing baseball, back and forth and back an forth, the fucking bottom of the 8th rolls around and Chase Fucking Utley had just been beaned with the first pitch from atl reliever, Johnny Venters.

All of the yuppies and I cheered! YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAH!!!

Up comes the Big Fucking Piece who's done fuck-all the entire game.

"Man, Howard's fucking due, he hasn't done fuck-all the entire game. He's gonna send one fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu..."

Piece grounds right into a dp. Fuck my eyes our of my head.

Whatever, 2 outs with The Red-Hot Rooster stepping up. He's good for a smack or two these days. He's got 4 dingers in his last 5 games. Large balls, hairy.

Werth draws a battled walk off the atl farmhand which brings up everyone's favorite person name Raul, Raul Fucking Ibanez. If I could figure out how to place a nina over the "N" in his name I would definitely do it.

At this point my mind is fucking melting in terror. The bar is as tense as a freshmen waiting in the hall for (AIDS) test results and I'm clutching for dear life to the back of a bar stool. At this moment in time, there are no class divisions. The assholes around me turn from dickheads who keep Whole Foods in business to my fucking brother's in arms. We are one. We hate the fucking braves and we want Raul to fucking shove the next fucking pitch up their tomahawk chopping asses and send them back to their fucking shanties weeping like women.We want to fucking completely spoil their chances of winning the National League Eastern Division Title, a fucking award destined for the shelf of the Phillies Clubhouse. We want Bobby Cox and his crew of cockmoles to fucking get his milestone win in their own damn house on their own dam time. We want to fucking win the 10th game in a row. We want to sweep the fucking knaves in OUR FUCKING HOUSE for the first time since 2001. WE ALL WANT THE SAME THING. FUCKING DOMINANCE OF A TEAM THAT HAS PLAGUED US ALL SEASON LONG. FUCK THEM.

And then this fucking happened.......

Boo.The fuck. Yah.

RAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUULL!!!!!!!!!!!

Fucking Raul doubles off the chalk line in deep left field, Werth fucking scores and Lidge comes in AGAIN. And slams the fucking door. 1-0. A powerful victory. I was so excited that we all went to Shampoo for Goth night like we used to back in the day. Look!

Tonight we have a well deserved fucking night off. I'm gonna take a bath with candles and Depeche Mode. On the radio not in the bathtub with me. I prefer women. No, seriously.

Our magic number is now 4 and we're 6 games up.

Fuck new york and Du Hast Mich.

JSIII

Oh Phuck, almost forgot.....

September 21 2010 PHI v ATL Game 2. We Got Nem 20s, Yo

2010-09-22T07:10:00.000-07:00

Well, F's, there it fucking is. Roy Fucking Halladay. 20 Wins. The first Phils' starter since Lefty did it back in '82. I was there, my son was there, the moon and the stars were there, the braves where there and--most importantly--their ineptitude was there. The Doc fiercely sliced through the competition with surgical precision not unlike Dr.Giggles to bring The Phucking Fightin' Phils 5 games above the sisterfuckers and inch us that much closer to a division title.

Halladeezy took hill at 7:05pm last night and immediately started to fuck rednecks up. 1-2-3 went the first and it was fucking clear that Roy was taking no shit from any turdlike human shape in a grey and maroon uni from the place where they make you dance your way out of gang rape.

After innings of dominance, Doc did seem to have some trouble hitting his spots come the 5th and 6th inning with runs starting to trickle onto the board. A few lead-off walks and deep counts had the crowd gasping in fear. I'm not trying to diminish his large-cocked feat with WIP-esque detractor drivel. I'm merely giving you, My Loyal Followers, my honest observations. Fuck, the man went 7, whiffed 3, walked 2 and gave up a 3 spot. For any other pitcher this would probably be called "a good night" but I sensed a bit of sweat on the brow of the workhorse. It must be quite the load to carry when walking 2 men in 7 innings is akin to the fucking Yeti walking across the field. It's been a long year and he's fucking carried this club with square shoulders, it's not out of the question that he may be a tad winded this late in the stretch. I think we all, my self included, expect too much from him.

Still, the man being the professional that he is steadied himself and fucking shoved it far up the asses of the cox gang to pave the way to fucking victory. Large testicles.

Jayson Fucking Werth continued his recent trend of slaying vagina pitching last night in the 3rd inning when he broke the scoreboard's cherry and bashed a 3-fucking-run load deep into the seats in left-center. He must be packing on the fucking pounds lately after pounding down all the fucking hoagies. HEEEEEEEEEAAAAT, MOTHERFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCKER! Sex.

Not that I'm gonna starve my man, Ra-Fucking-ul Ibanez, over here either. His 2 double night and 2 RBI's in the 7th gave us a nice cozy 5 runs in the 6th. Anyone who was talking about trading this big-beasted ballbag motherfucker back in June should be eating a large bowl of crow dicks right now.

We got a deece 8th inning from Mad Dog with a fucking most crucial inning ending dp ball that opened the door for the sexecutioner, Brad To The Fucking Bone Lidge, to come back for more ravaging of the 9th inning guts. He wet the oppositions dork a little by giving up a lead off base-knock to Derrick Lee but made quick fucking work of the useless fuckin' foes that stood before him. He raised the fucking axe................and down it fucking came on the heads of Nate McLouth, Alex Gonzales, and Rick Wankiel to finish off the show and bring us 5 Phucking games above atl in the division. Boo what?

BOOYAH!.

Here's a photo of your future boss, JSIV. Awwwwwwwww. Don't let this photo fool you, he's a savage motherfucker. Look at him trying to eat that sign that I spent 20 minutes making. What in ingrate. One day when he's old enough to understand, I'll go into his dungeon and tell him about the time we saw Roy Fucking Halladay win his 20th game his first season as a Fightin's. He will then break his chains and snap my neck.

We got big bad buckshooting Roy Oswalt on the fucking hill tonight vs. Tommy Hanson. This is almost finally a fair match-up. Hanson has been good on the road since the break and Os has won his last 7/10 starts. Os is a beast, I'm ready.

I will not be attending tonight's series finale but contributor and Philly punk legend, Chuck Meehate will be in the 400s. I'm not about to blow up his spot and give you his exact location. It would be a fucking zoo...

Fuck new york and sign me a song, you're the piano man and a shitty mets fan.

JSIII

September 20 2010 PHI v ATL Game 1. And It Has Begun, DUN DUN

2010-09-21T07:09:00.000-07:00

Good morning, Followers. Daddy's a little hungover right now. Not that I particularly drank all that much last night, I'm seriously still ringing from all the fucking dollar dogs I punched down my greedy little throat as I watched The Phucking Men stand behind Cole MF Hamels in defiance to slavery, nascar and falling asleep with your dog, Skeeter, underneath the truck. A 3-1 victorious ball-tickler for The Fightin's to get this 3 game nerve destroyer against the knaves started was more than enough to induce rampant gluttony and mild alcohol consumption by your Editor.

Cole Motherfucking Hamels came to the party with a keg of nuts and the sack to use them last night, F's. 8 strong fucking inning, 6 hits, 6 K and 1 motherfucking run for the MAN from California. He had a shaky 2nd inning giving up a single to Derrick Lee and then an off-the-wall RBI double to Brain McCann but quickly shut that fucking semenfest down by fanning Alex Gonzales and then getting Melky Cabrera to ground into a dp. That seems like the entire story of the night. Cole would battle, if he lost he wouldn't fucking cry like a pudsmacking freshman, he'd fucking get the next batsman to just fuck himself and his fellow teammate over with a sweet, sweet pumpkin pie dp ball. Like I said, MAN.

The runs last night came at a premium, even off rookie frosh meat Brandon Beachy who took Jair Jurrgens' spot after being diagnosed with a boo-boo.

Ryan Fucking Howard lead off the 2nd a double down the right field line and then a few fucking batters later my boy Chooch steps up and send a liner cursing into left. 1-1. Booyah.

Things stayed relativley quiet unitl the 5th when Shane Fucking Victorino lead off with what seemingly was a sure line-out to Jayson Heyward. Well, sometimes you gotta take the presents you're handed because that seemingly routine liner turned into a botched catch and fucking 3 base error. It didn't take long for Fucking Polly to ground-out and force him home. 2-1.

Chutley came with sackazoid like steel and shot one into center immediately to get the bases on there way to being filled again. Howard was intentionally walked, Werth not so intentionally walked and then my boy RAUUUUUUUUUL came in for the grounder RBI to give The Men With Sacks a niooooooooce 3 to fucking 1 lead.

This fucking happened again:

I made a sign to bring to the game and until about the 7th inning I thought my toil would go unnoticed. every fucking dingleberry on his grandmother were getting face time on that fucking jumbo tron and I had a work of pure genius in my hands but still was getting the shaft. Fucking some dick dressed in a swamp thing outfit, douchebags in green body suits, old people. What the fuck?

Just as I was losing hope a very large man with a camera on his shoulders walked down my and stood in front of my and told me to wait. He was waiting for the bobblehead race to finish and then I would get my chance.

Then as the grey bobblehead fucking won he say to me "Nah, they don't want it." and peaced the fuck out down the aisle.

What the fuck? Can't you read? This shit is genius! Ahhhh, the White Fucking Whale gets away again. I just settled for what Brad Lidge did in the 9th.

Motherfucker came in and was ICING pricks. He strikes out wunderkind Jayson Heyward on 3 seriously filthy pitches, gets Martin Prado to fly-out to left and then fucking smokes Derrick Lee with a slider for the fan and that's the fucking ballgame! 3-1 and the Phils are sitting 4 games above the knaves. I feel crazy/sexy/cool.

I'll be in section 135 tonight if any of you sex freaks wants to come get a beer or meet your future boss, JSIV. Halladeezy goes for 20 tonight. I am thoroughly pumped.

Fuck new york and shut the fuck up, John Schuerholtz.

JSIII

September 19 2010 PHI v WSH Game 3. Never Surrender

2010-09-20T06:33:00.000-07:00

I don't even know how to fucking approach this one, F's. I still feel like I'm on fucking pcp. If there are typos today fuck it, there always are. I don't proof read. I was gonna go with the whole "What happened, I left in the 8th" angle but that would be stupid, I wasn't even there.

Then I was gonna just fucking ignore it for a few sentences and then write about it IN ALL CAPS BECAUSE I'M FUCKING EXCITED!!!!!" bullshit but I've done that booollshit before so I'm just gonna cut the shit and get down to the bull's balls.Oh fuck it....

THAT PHUCKING SHIT WAS PHUCKING AWESOME!!! DID YOU JUST SEE THAT SHIT JAYSON PHUCKING WERTH GIVE THIS MAN 40000 BLOWJOBS PEOPLE!!!!!!!!!WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!

It was pretty fucking awesome. Jayson Fucking Werth grabs the bull by the dick and bashes the life out of a 3-2 pitch, capping a second consecutive sweep with his walk-off 2-run jizz-jolt into deep centerfield. Look at the fucking stage dive he does into The Men waiting in desperation to embrace The Beard. This shit looks like a Pearl Jam concert minus all the dickheads.

It's funny, after this game the reports that Rooster had signed with Scott Boras to represent him in his FA golden goose hunt. This basically means bye-bye Werth, hello loneliness but whatever. A man's gotta eat. It's not like Ross Gload is leaving and to be completely honest with you F's... I don't think Werth had shit to do with yestersday's win*. I think it was all this little broad's doing:

Would you look at this chick? The Human Rally Towel they call her. I talked to one of my inside sources at the park who tells me this lovable scamp shows up quite frequently to CBP dressed in this genius attire. Who is she? She has a fucking facebook page dedicated to her that was started maaaaaaaaaaybe 45 seconds after Werth smoked that shot. Is she single? I have friends. Is she American? Can she speak English? I want an interview with the Human Rally Towel. I wonder if she'll be at any of these braves games. I'll be at tonight's and Tuesday's game. Serction 136, HRT if you're interested.

Seriously, how many of you thought it was all over in the 8th? Come on don't be a pussy. I was fucking pissed in the 6th, I'm not gonna lie. I walk in from my Olde Timey Baseball game with contributor Scott and the first fucking thing I see is Blanton give up the 3 run homer to Mike Morse. I was so shitty with him. It felt like Blanton had just come and shit on my birthday cake. It was all "Fuck shit cocksucker pisspenisfucker blah blah blah.." like I usually am in those situations. I am passionated, people. I curse a lot and I hurt when we lose. Don't fucking judge me, I love this team. I and the rest of the Phillie Broadcast Team thought that yesterday might be one of those days. You know, when the hits just fucking don't some with RISP. It happens. I wasn't even mad about the fact that we might lose. I was all peachy going into the knaves series 2 games up. Fuck, Chollie even brought in Danys Baez, the ultimate white flag. He gave up a homerun. Eessssh. Then Romero comes in and gives up a 2 outter..... 6-3 with one chance left but still I never felt truly out of it. I had padded my heart with pessimism but still held hope like I fucking always do. You never give up on these pricks. You can't. Because just when you do you miss something like this. A 4 run bottom 9 and you feel shame like the douche you are. Get mad, curse at the pitcher, do what the fuck ever makes you feel better but don't fucking give up. You know I haven't turned off a Phillies game all year, even the truly shit ones back in May and June. Yeah, I sat through those games in Boston where Moyer and Blanton got bombed. I sat through Pirates games that we refused to hit in. Maybe it was the absence+distance equation but even so, I never can actually just walk away from a game. I feel like a traitor. Listen to me. Fuck this, PHIL'S WIN! NEVER SURRENDER! BRING ON THE FUCKING knaves!!!!! THIS IS TOTAL FUCKING WAR!

Fuck new york and love the one you're with. Yesterday's win was huge. Everyone contributed. You can't forget that Polly and Chutley got that rally started and that Big Piece brought in the first 2 runs to open the door for Werth. Brian Schneider has a 3-hot day yesterday. Blanton gave it his best, Baez and Romero put in effort and newbie Vance Worley had a great, clean 9th. We are one. All of us. Let's fucking destroy every filthy shit that gets in our way. Coach Sharkey wants you to know that you are the best.

JSIII

* I kid, I kid!

PS I Love you.

PPS

September 18 2010 PHI v WSH Game 2. More Bashing More Slashing

2010-09-19T06:18:00.000-07:00

You know, Followers, when Kyle Kendrick took the hill last night and started to fucking toss his little brand of homerun derby ball I thought we were fucking sunk. I'm sitting in my reclining chair with a beer barely dented and he gives up a single. Then a fucking triple. Then he hits Ryan Zimmerman. I almost lost my fucking mind. I believe my mother, who was visiting, put it best. "What the fuck is this girl doing?!"

But then Rich Dubee went out there and probably said something to similar effect and something sorta changed in ol' KK's game. He started to pitch like someone who could one day have a fully developed set of testicles and struck out the next 2 batters. Sure he walked the bases loaded but he still got out of a fucking potential buttfucking from a sub .500 team and pretty much stayed sharp for the remainder of his 6 inning outing. 2 earned runs, a half dozen hits. Fuck, that's better than anyone expected.

After Kyle's first shit inning the boys set to work with peckers of power, lifting many small balls with a bat over a wall far away from where they were standing.

Rooster walloped the dick off one of the nats' Jordan Zimmerman's goofballs to get the party started in the 2nd, sending it fucking barreling into the cosmos of left field seats. Werth's kinda been fucking great lately. Maybe he realized what fucking month it was.

Exxon Fucking Valdez, who had another fucking 3 hit night, double in Raul just shortly after Werth went yard for run number 2. This beautiful goatee'd fucker has been blazing across CBP like a fucking bushfire through a horny teen's mind. By bush I mean vagina hair. He's hot shit. This is seriously the best phot I could find of Wilson. Fucking a shame.

The very next inning someone named THE FUCKING BIG PIECE set himself an adorable little record when he fucking wrecking the shit out of the small ball over the left field wall, a 2-run load sending Chutley --who singled to get on just prior-- home with him. That was homer 30 for Howard, completing his 5th consecutive 30 HR 100 RBI campaign, a club record now forever in the annals of fucking cockmans legends. Piece, all of us at TBSS forever fucking salute you!

Excuse me, Mr Howard...HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAT!!!

Someone must've been green with envy after the Piece set his record and wanted a little Phanfare of his own because before you could even wipe your mouth off, RAUL FUCKING IBANEZ crushed one in the exact same spot Howard's ball fell. More like Raul Fucking IBOOYAH!

All those hairy nut bangers added up to 5 which was fucking enough to silence the nats and their 2 meager runs and 40 relief pitchers. Still I see the nats fucking towering over the useless fucking asshole up in flushing next season. I watched those worthless shitheads try to fight off the knaves and their wild 4 run attack but fucking watching the mets these days is like watching a nursing home orgy. Sad, lazy fucking. Mostly unsuccessful. Well, I honestly think old people screwing is more fulfilling entertainment but I just wanted to use that analogy. Fuck you. It still would be nice if they could just fucking win 1 game so we could ostensibly have the knaves walk into town with a 4 game deficit but I really think that's asking too much of Santa after the year they've had. A bunch of assaulters and leg-jizzers in that clubhouse.

Today I'm going to attend contributor Scott's olde timey baseball game in Fairmont park. I am prepared to watch portly men with their funny moustaches in 40 lb wool uniforms sweating their sanity away as I drink beer with my 4 month old. It's all brought to you by the Philadelphia Vintage Baseball Committee.

It's also the Bring Your A's Game meet and greet picnic. BYAG is the initiative to have the Atheletics franchise moved back to its original home of Philadelphia. Yeah, I know. Cue the old bloke from The Castle. "AHHH TELL 'EM HE'S DREEEEAMIN'!!" . Nevertheless you scrubbers should all come down today. Fuck it, I'm into a 2 team town again. Let's do this shit.

Fuck new york and would you please just fucking win once, you drooling fuck knuckles!

JSIII

September 17 2010 PHI v WSH Game 1. Oswalt Out For Blood

2010-09-18T06:57:00.000-07:00

I'd like to think that the last 8 Roy Oswalt starts in a Phillies uni has fully quashed the whole Lee vs Oswalt debate. All the facebook pages and all the comment vagina virgins can rest easy now that Oswalt has shown his true worth in the city of the good and right. Yes, Cliff Lee was a fucking hell of a man with a hell of a pitch but who the fuck is wearing the P and who's losing a pint of sweat a night down in Arlington? No sense in jerking-off to the ace of out bedroom's past when we can stick our big fat collective prick right in it with glorious revelry and be fully grateful for what we've got here in the fucking now.

Last night Roy Oswalt won his 7th start last night. The MLB network told me that he's the first pitcher since 1912 to fucking win 7 out of 8 starts after joining a team mid-season. That's a retarded statistic but it still impressed me. Sometimes I'm very easy. If you would've asked me for a good Oswalt fact I probably would've just told you he was fucking awesome.

6 inning pitched, 1 earned run, 1 happy fucking crowd of Phaithful. Putting in his hours, a working man. He even ripped the fucking dick off the ball for an RBI in the first. Doing it.

But fuck, Followers, it's not like he did it alone. After giving up his one and only run in the first he got a cornucopia aka buttfucking avalanche of runs in the bottom frame. I can't be fucked going through the 90 hits and every fat umpire that got in the way because it's Saturday and I am a busy man but listen to me when I say this; We are on fucking fire. The Phils have scored 70 fucking runs over the last 10 games. That's good, right? The sleepers are awakening and the mainstay rocks like Choochie and Valdez are keeping the usual work load. Werth is getting his shit together and knocking off the streaky shit. Big Piece, Chutley, Vic, Polly, RAUL! Fuck, I'm being hyperbolic but If someone is going to beat us they are going to have to fucking bring the serious nutload. No fluky shit, we're here for a Phight and if you think we're gonna hand you a gift wrapped penis pump you've got another thing coming.

I feel great. Now I have to go to babies r us and buy a new crib for my son. The act is enjoyable but my surroundings will cause rage. Fuck that giraffe, I'm a Kiddie City kid, motherfucker. Fuck new york for being losers and sky rockets in flight (wwwwweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrnnn) afternoon delight.

JSIII

September 15 2010 PHI v FLA Game 3. This Fish Is Toast

2010-09-16T06:31:00.000-07:00

The title for the edition is only funny is you say it to yourself in the voice of the Dr. Peter Venkman's character from Ghostbusters. Oh yeah and my sign is still much better than the British one above but I love the enthusiasm.

Easy Breezy Halladeezy got his 19th fucking W, tying C.C. Sabathia for most in the league along with setting a career high of 210 Ks for the season thus far, overtaking Tim Lincecum for most in the NL. He was punched around by a pounce early and often approach from the fish but still managed to keep things in control, only allowing 3 runs on 10 shitty hits. Even in his weirdest, funked hour I still keep calm sphincter when he's up there. The man exudes placidity in the face of the enemy, a strong asset to cocks-man such as he. He fucking struck out 9 mahfuckers out there. I'll fucking take it. This win brings us 3 games ahead of atl in the NL east race. Booyah.

What really can I do in Paint that I haven't to Roy this season? I've drawn big dicks, wizard hats, magic shooting from his hands, tears on his cheeks when he gets no runs support...He's gonna have to shoot someone in the fucking face so I can have some new material. I'll just leave this one for now as it is.

Another thick-girthed showing from our Men With Bats, yuck yuck yuck, but that was mildly expected. The marlins, dealing with suspensions from the altercation with Nyger Morgan a few back, had to send up Jorge Sosa--a pen potato-- to start. The fish were hoping for a clean 3 innings. He didn't even get a clean 3 outs.

First fucking inning with 2 down, Fucking Rooster slaps one to right field for a sacker and drives in Chutley only to become RBI fodder for Raul Fucking Ibanez. Iby fucking drills on into the gap in left-center passed the glove of Emilio Bonifacio.

Top 3rd, Chutley comes up to the plate and fucks around for not a second before wasting a ball into the right foul pole, his 15th of the year. NOICE!

Exxon Motherfucking Valdez put on quite the show for us last night with another 3 hit night, driving in 2 ribbies and just jizzing oil all over the joint. That goatee might have something to do with his success. Since this motherfucker has come up black gold all over I'm gonna have give him something for his troubles. He can smell it already, he's been the fucking rock while Roll's been riding pine. HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAT!

Brad To The Bone came out for 1/3 of an inning to scare the living shit out of us by loading the bases and walking in a fucking run before getting yanked. Good thing we have that Cuban lover, Contreras hulking around to get it done. Shit, some 2009 came back for a brief haunting but I'm legitimately not worried as Brad has been on his ass for a few days. Give him a couple more appearances with 6 runs behind him and he'll be as good as gold.

All together The Men managed to get across the plate 10 times to the fish''s 5. I'm not English major but I'm pretty sure that means that we win and they lose.

Well, that's all she wrote this season in Florida for the Phils. With a record of 13-5 against the marlins and 90 runs scored, I think we can call this fish officially smoked.

You want to know the most annoying way to answer the question What's your favorite Megadeth song?

3 games up, motherfuckers. 3 games. Fuck new york and thank you Justin Maxwell.

JSIII

September 14 2010 PHI v FLA Game 2. Cole Hamels. The Man. The Myth. The Man

2010-09-15T06:46:00.000-07:00

So I'm sitting in Marathon Grill at 16th and Chestnut this morning with a coffee and plate of mule barf when Cole Hamels walks in....

Me: Yo Cole, what the fuck is up, brother?

Cole: K

Me: Huh?

Cole: K!

Me: K what? Are you fucking high?

Cole: ..........K,K,K

Me: Dude, that's fucking racist.

Cole: (shakes head) KKKK!

Me: Why the fuck are you speaking to me in text message, dickhead? I was just gonna say nice game last night. What did you strike out 13 of those marlin pricks? That's a season high right?

Cole: K!!!!

Me: You're annoying...

Cole: (to hostess) KK?

Hostess: Excuse me?

Cole: Fuck you all, I'm going to Buffalo Exchange....

Me: But they don't even sell foodstuffs....

What a weird morning.......

I'm serious when I say this in a totally objective light. Would you look at the dick on Cole Hamels? Really, take a good look at it? It's enormous. What the fuck happened to him over the course of this season? Where did all this fire come from? Who is my real father?

Hamels leaves one big-dickin' season high behind and in the blink of an eye reaches another statistical zenith. He dusts his 25 innings of scoreless pitching then throws 13 K in one game into Santa's happy satchel of sex toys and all the while walks us through a 2-1 battle over the fish. It's just that kind of year. Last year around this time, Cole was getting a pedicure in the dugout and feeding his chiuaua his tears in return for allowing Cole to rest his thumb inside his ass.

Now the fucking sword is drawn. He will not let childish petulance or Comcast ads or Brett Myers retarded goatee stand in his way of pure and total conquest of the weak enemy. He is primed for post-season battle and fluffed for serious action. Now, I will never ever make rampant foregone conclusions so I assume nothing. IF we make it to the post-season this motherfucker will be glue instead of the semen, the cure not the herpes, the MAN and not bitch. We've all watched him grow and I'm as proud of him as anything I haven't done in my whole life.

Fuck new york and let the rhythm take control. Sweat!

Oh yeah, I almost forgot to ask. Hey Busey, how many games are we up on atlanta now after Livan Hernandez fucking stymied those 'necks?

Any chance I get to use that clip I will.

JSIII

September 13 2010 PHI v FLA Game 1. Penis Poundin' That Flounder

2010-09-14T06:59:00.000-07:00

You know, Followers, It seems like just last week that I was watching the Phillies belt the fuck out of a first round draft pick by Detroit named Andrew Miller. He kinda looked like Orlando Bloom and had very poor location with his pitches. We beat the fuck out of him and a few of his little bullpen buddies for something like 10 runs and then let a few of our shitty pitchers almost blow it.

Yeah that was last week. It.s comforting to know that we can be consistent in our ass-beatings when facing a pitcher we've flogged, with or without the Captian Morgan beard.

Joe Fucking Blanton had to tuck his enormous dick in his shoe last night, going a full 6 giving up only 5 fucking hits an 1 fucking run. Who is this man? I love him? Where has he been all my season? I'm thirsty.

Every fucking Phillie hit last night, Followers. It was a jizz-fest of a seriously brodacious magnitude. Jayson Werth finally pulled his manacure finger out and started arcing contest last night in the 2nd inng, hitting a towering solo motherfucker the opposite way and then Chase Fucking Utley did the same the very next frame.

The shitstrom of runs on the marlins' head didn't truly begin until Carlos Fucking Ruiz started to make it rain DNA with his extreme 2- run Panamanian Whopper from Hungry Jack's in the 4th. Boy that thing was majestic. Logan Morrison just watched that fucking thing sail over his head and right towards fucking Narnia.

After that it's all blur. It was RBI after RBI, 3 here 3 there. Seriously, giving out a Hoagie Of Heat today would be insulting. Even fucking Greg Dobbs hit a fucking home run. we pounded them for 11 total and took only minimal shit from the fish after Chollie decided we had a nice enough lead to put everyone's favorite rule 5 pick, David Herndon to work in the 8th. He promptly gave up 3 runs like Planned Parenthood gives out great news to those of heavy conscience after a messy night in a bathroom stall. We still walked away tall and erect with a nice 11-4 scoreline and an 11-5 record against the fish in 2010 thus far. Boo. Fucking. Yah.

It should also be noted that both Jose Contreras in the 7th and Danys Baez in the 9th were pretty fucking on. The latter more so than the former surprises me.

Summation:

I'm going to the shore so it's the short goods today, F's. I know, it's OK. Fuck new york and enjoy my cousin's recipe. He's a great chef. He works at Getty in Aldan.

JSIII

September 12 2010 PHI v NYM Game 3. Lay 'Em Down, Smack 'Em Yack 'Em

2010-09-13T07:17:00.000-07:00

Fucking what's up, Philadelphia?! How's it feel to be back in sole possession of the big dildo after the Phils take this fucker and the knaves, with mighty Tim Hudson on the hill, get fucking roped? That's what I thought....

Yesterday, Daddy was fortunate enough to have witnessed Roy Oswalt stun and finger every motherfucking dingus in blue and orange in front of a lively crowd of maybe 6500 people. The citifield dream cemetery for a 3rd September in a row was a barren sea of empty seats and true diehards whom I admired in there commitment but loathe in their allegiance. It was truly a chagrined but loyal lot not too excited yet not very bothered by our Philadelphia presence. Maybe the infant had some effect.

This was my son, JSIV's first Phillies game. How hard is he already? Going into the belly of the beast for his first outing of 9 innings. I'm so proud of him. He's 4 months old and already hates the mets. Just look at the hatred seething off of him. A true family outing, Aunty Berdan and Aunty Amy even attended!

The runs came early off muts starter Jonathan Niese with Chutley banging home Victorino in the 1st and Big fucking Piece smacking home Polly in the 3rd. Mrs. Niese proved to be little match for the anaconda crotch we had on the mound in retaliation.

Even my best friend Michael (pictured above) who really finds no time for sports (the hat is mine, I just couldn't have him go into the mouth of the beast unrepresented) was impressed by the fucking fire Roy Fucking Oswalt was tossing. Do you know what kind of inner peace and joy I felt watching David Wright strike out 400 times yesterday?

Not a single fucking muts batter even reached 2nd base all fucking day. It would be almost boring it it wasn't wizardry.

A 4 hit, complete game shutout. In flushing. These eyes....Fuck me.

Would you look at that puss, ain't it beautiful? I took this photo just before fucking Raul Fucking Ibanez smoked the dick off the ball into deep center, a rarely touched upon area of glory. Throughout the dozens of groans emanating from the seats around me I managed to make out a hand full of RAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUULLLs rattling the bare cupboards of the flushing stands. Yeah, you fucking smell it.....

HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT!!!!!

I'll tell ya, F's.... I'm getting pretty fucking tired of watching Jayson Werth step up to the plate, swat around like an aloof cheerleader dreaming of bubblegum and penis, and then walk back to the dugout like that's what he's paid to do. Dickhead, it's September. If you don't want to be here, fuck off. Play your part, pick up your sack and give it your nuts. That's my only gripe for today.

Nevertheless, after 9 innings, dozens of dirty looks, a few humans cooing at the little man and one hell of a show from Os we left citifield and Little Bogotá triumphant. Another mets series in our pockets and my little man gets a W on his maiden voyage.

Fuck new york and thanks for coming.

JSIII

September 11 2010 PHI v NYM Game 2. Too Feminine Too Late

2010-09-12T05:16:00.000-07:00

Shit, Followers. I can't rant to vigorously about this fucking game, we almost mounted a full-scale come back in triumphant glory. Almost. That will not work in this month and we all know it. 3-4 loses to scum of the earth are loses that should not be fucking happening at this point in our season. With atlanta beating the worthless cardinals like the underachievers they are we have zero wiggle room for pansies.

Kyle Kendrick. Pansie. Our fucking line-up for the first 7 innings. Girls. Jayson Werth. Either high or a total fucking pansie. You want a surefire way to kill a rally? Here's what you do:

Get seriously mometum with runners on base. Give Jayson Werth bat. Say "Go hit!" Rally over. Corkscrewed into the ground like a lazy suzan.

Romero called in with bases loaded? What are you fucking drunk, Choll?

Fuck it, Howard tacked on w more ribbies and Sweeney and Gload came through with bit hit that make me glad they are alive and on our bench. Fuck it.

I,m about to leave for flushing now. The Lions Den. I'm sure it will be filled at least 45% with our people anyways, it's not like the mutts supporters enjoy baseball. You'll be getting full updates from the hateful man in red himself. ME. That is if cellphones fucking work in flushing.

Fuck new york and GO PHUCKING PHILS!

JSIII

September 10 2010 PHI v NYM Game 1. "He just said 'SUCK MY DICK, MEJIA!' yeeah"

2010-09-11T09:18:00.000-07:00

My faggot fucking computer deleted 5 paragraphs of pure genius. I seriously want to burn someone's house down right now. It's Saturday, let's make this quick. I still have funny pictures to post of our Men plowing through the flushing queen in the series opener on our way to Halladay's 18th W .

Fucking Carlos Fucking Ruiz cannot be contained.There, I said it. Just like the dude in that retarded KFC Double Down commercial. Motherfucker is unreal. You cannot keep him off base, just try. He reached 30 time last night.

Choochie got the scoring for this walk in the park going with an RBI single in the 2nd inning and continued to be fucking the most valuable person alive as he tied up the weak muts second baseman (I don't care who he is) on a dp ball hit by Valdez. He juked the dork and held up the play until Raul fucking Ibanez could score. A smart fucking move from our smartest little fucker. Feel the thunder!

Halladay, who's been shelled a bit lately, had a bit of the heebeejeebees in the 3rd, as he gave up a single to opposing pitcher, Jenry Mejia- who's name is driving my spell check insane-- which became RBI fodder for Blose Gayes. Gayes in turn became run fodder for Carlos (the shitty Carlos) Beltran and his home run into right field that went sailing right at a woman with a baby. 2-3. Bwuuuuh.

After The Big Piece sent a sexual arc of jizz over the left field wall to tie it up the very next inning, Roy basically just said "fuck this, you can all suck my sick. Especially you, Mejia" when he knocked in 2 ribbies with a bases-loaded single. BOOYAH, PRICK!

Victorino smacked one in to make it a comfortable 6-3.

Here's a photo of Chase Utley just after he hit one to Utley's Corner in the 7th as he leaves a dildo for Josh Thole to play with as he rounds the bases.

One more run scored on a beaned Valdez in a bases loaded situation later that inning. The mutts went through about 40 pitchers that inning and we all had a hardy laugh. Weak.

Durbin and Mad Dog both got called in for work and, aside from a run given up from Durby, the job was finished. 8-4. 82-60. Byah. Yep, byah.

COACH SHARKEY'S CORNER

Now, I know I'm speaking for the entire Phillies Phaithful when I say this; Kyle Kendrick, if your fucking testicles don't drop out of that vagina between your legs you might as well move to fucking Kuwait. Today's match-up is exactly the same as it was the last time you pitched in flushing and you aced 'em. If you do not go into this start thinking "hmm, yeah, I guess I've been pitching like a pair of orthopedic shoes stuffed with used tampons. Maybe I'll fucking be a man this time and really deal." then there is no need for you to even show up. Grow 2. Join us. We're waiting. we've been waiting all season for you to really show up. NOW IS THE FUCKING TIME! You know you can pitch, prick. Paint those corners, keep the pitches down. It's citifield, you can get those long fly-outs that would be homers at CBP. Work with it. Be the ball, show the balls. We can't fucking afford bad outing with the knaves on our heels. This is no tome for wimps and losers.

Fuck new york and fuck this piece of shit I type on.

JSIII

When There's No Phillies.....

2010-09-10T12:40:00.000-07:00

.... there's always violence.

In lieu of a night of Phillies Baseball I am posting a video I took at the Collingwood v Doggies final last week at the MCG.

Here is a true glimpse of the Collingwood Magpies Supporter, a lower-class of rodent endemic to the inner- north area of Melbourne, in its natural habitat. Notice how it's usual behavior is both aggressive and dimwitted. Please note that at this point in the match the pies were up by 9 goals. These nuffies can't even be civilized to each other when their funny little team is fucking winning. True class. Enjoy!

Oh yeah, fuck new york and LET'S GO CARDS!

JSIII

September 8 2010 PHI v FLA Game 4. Daddy's 2 for 2

2010-09-09T09:31:00.000-07:00

First off, Followers.... I'm sorry for the late edition. After I got home from the game last night my wife and I had the daunting task of reacclimating a 4 month old to a 14 hour time fucking zone change. We are shiny happy people today, let me tell yous.

So, it's another game for Sharko and another big W for the Phils. This time instead of the supervision of an adult, my main man Chuck Meehan along with 2 of my best mates accompanied me to the slaughter. Originally contributor Scotty was to attend as well but instead he opted to perform his dance routine at one of the Philadelphia Fringe Festival's many venues. For those of you who don't get down verbally with the arts and culture section this equates to something like instead of having sex with a woman he went to a knitting circle. Too bad, he missed a ripper....

Cole FUCKING Hamels and the boys were hot,hot,hot like Buster Poindexter in the series finale with the fish. Cole continued his fucking hate-march of dominance with an outing becoming all too common and nonetheless fucking brilliant. Another 7 inning scoreless flaying with (for fucking once) a heap of run support to throw on the sex fire. He was fucking filthy. Like a little piggy with a hell of a sack and arm. Clearly a lopsided match-up if I've ever seen one as the florida starter, Andrew Miller, was beaten to a pulp by our superior powerloads.

Ryan Howard had one of those nights that for puny humans like us would be akin to getting blown and then having free basket of fries placed in your hands. A 3-run smoker the opposite way in the 5th inning along with his other 3 RBIs pretty much just fucking roasted those fillets. If there is any doubt in the feeble minds of the naysayer virgins about Big Piece's fucking timing after the last 2 nights of dominance then I don't know what to tell you. You probably would only be satisfied if Piece peed in your mouth while your parents watched. You freak. HEEEEEEEEEAT!!!!

I think its worth noting that every Phillie in the line-up last night had at least 1 hit. Hamels had 2. They piled on 10 runs by the 7th inning in a show of wild stallion-esque insemination.

Not all was fucking peachy, though, F's. J-Roll was pulled from the game with apparent hamstring soreness and one of our farm system pitchers and hopefully my new garbage man, Nate ~~Robinson~~ Robertson, gave up fucking 5 runs in 2/3 of the 8th frame. The former is being written off as dehydration not fit for worrying while the latter is being written off as a lose leader. I haven't heard a "hometown" pitcher get roasted so viciously with boos in a long fucking time. Good for him. He fucking stunk. It was like watching a pillow case trying not to get defiled by Mike Tyson. David Herndon finished off the bummer buttfuck 8th by tacking on one more run to make mincemeat out a fully comfortable lead.

Chollie finally had had enough of this horseshit and brought in Ryan Madson to get the fucking job done and...... he did. Again. Champion. 10-6, Phils. Series taken. Season series win for the Phils against the fish. first time since 2006. Booyah.

That's all for today, F's... Daddy needs a nap. Mommie does, too. Fuck new york and LET'S GO CARDS!!!!! Beat them wife beaters.

JSIII

September 7 2010 PHI v FLA Game 3. Daddy's Big Night Out

2010-09-08T05:23:00.000-07:00

Would you fucking lookey here, Followers? Look at me. Its 6am right now and I still feel like I could fucking beat up 8 cops after holding barbershop hostage naked with my dork swinging like a flesh hammer. You know, how normally act after smoking dust with my father.

I waited 5 months for my first game of the season. 5 arduous months of Canberran isolation and struggle. Waking everyday at 10am and then making that futile slog to the gym to toil away the days, pumping iron and resenting my tedious daily grind until I could get back to my home and eat a healthy, nutritious meal cooked for me. My suffering has finally come to an end.

Joe Blanton, who I was honestly not too excited to see toss, had a mildly manish night. His 1st inning eat-shit was bypassed for 3rd and 4th inning batting practice. Anytime your pitcher gives up 2 triples on an inning you feel violated. I needed a shower around the 5th but Joe settled a bit and worked through 6 1/3, only giving up . a decent and fucking typical Sloppy Joe outing.

I, like a tourist or immigrant, had my father take these photos after Raul went yard in the 4th along with Howard and Victorino in the 5th. I am a dickhead but fuck you all, it's been a long stretch of Phils-less nights and I am a father with a blog. I take pictures of everything.

Man.

Look at the longing relinquished! I'm still hard...the fucking bells are still ringing in my sack!

The Men had taken a 7-4 lead by the 7th when the mound was handed over to the 'pen who promptly shit bed to make my night of whimsy and drama that much more sensual.

The 3 run lead quickly disintegrated with the cast of odd-ball dingleberries brought in for the 8th inning. Bastardo and Durbin had been brought in for the 7th after Joe-Joe got cold and did an adequate job of only giving up 1 run. The 8th say Contreras and Romero toss like girls waiting for their first period, giving up a run and leaving men on 1st and 3rd for Mad-Dog to come clean up the mess.

Well, he fucked up.... passed ball with a man on 3rd. I think every broad with huge knockers in our section just got up and bounced the second that runner crossed the plate. They fucked up, too.

It was long before our joint Hoagie of Heat winners emerged like a phoenix from the wreckage the very next frame. With 2 outs, Victorino singled with a blooper to center and fucking like a man and then promptly swiped the bag at 2nd Polly waiting to shoot a line drive into right field to reclaim the lead like a methmom in the night.

Mad-Dog came back out since Lidge isn't available til Friday and closed things out like a man with a sack 60 times the normal, getting charged with a blown save and in all in the same night.

Throughout the game it was fucking magical as the crowd would roar in unified hatred at the out of town scoreboard when the Buccos scored against the knaves. I truly felt apart of something greater than myself, like in AA. Tim Hudson can seriously suck a fart out of my ass after losing 5-0 to the pirates. September isn't kind to the weak but let's not get presumptuous. We still have 20 some odd games left and we're only .5 a game up. Still, it feels nice to be looking down on atl in the standings with our dicks flapping in the breeze...FIRST PLACE, FUCKSTICKS!

Contributor Chuck Meehate and I will be at tonight's series closer in section 417. If any Followers want to give us beer or hotdogs or money feel free to stop by.

Fuck new york and my computer is a fuckmouth. GO BUCCOS!!!!!

JSIII

September 6 2010 PHI v FLA Games 1+2. Crap, Not Crap

2010-09-07T05:53:00.000-07:00

So, yeah Followers. I've realized that since I live in the country again I'm in a bit of a pickle. When I lived in Australia I could watch the game at 9am and then have all day to ruminate on the spectacle and then write about i thoughtfully. But here the night games end at 10 and I get no time to get pensive. What I'm saying basically is that The Clog will be getting way more crude and less thoughtful and I don't fucking care. You're excited, I know.....

Alright so The Show now continues in the land of the good and fair and big titties and baseball......

Game 1 was, uh, a less than fucking stellar affair. I believe I referred to it as a blowjob contest a few times as I watched it with my mother. She agreed. She noted that Jayson Werth and Polly had a great great hand-stroke/headbob technique while Chase Utley and Ryan Howard were a little sloppy around the nut area. Some people forget that it's very important when performing fellatio to pay at least a little attention to the boys. They get lonely.

Vance Worley, freshly called-up from Lehigh Valley, made his first major league start in game 1 and showed signs of promise and shades of Kendrick (girl arm). He got into holes very quickly throughout the first 3 inning throwing 51 pitches but settled into a nice deuce of 1-2-3 frames, getting pulled after the 5th for D Brown to sword fight with his imaginary friend in the batters box. The kids got decent velocity and malleable control but needs a little of that big-dickin' Jamie Moyer tutelage. This kid could be on the wish and wait farm list but who fucking knows. Surely not me.

The fish also countered with their own rookie start in Adamberto Mendez , who on the flipside seemed to fool the Phils about as easily as a math teacher to a weed dealer. The fucker looked good. Shit was maybe going a little too sweet for the newbie until the 7th inning when he fucking infuriated the Phaithful by even getting a fucking basehit.He pulled up lame with a something strain and will now probably be fucking shat upon by trainers and front office messengers in Miami. Another day of sadness for The Baseball Player.

I think in this fucking dogcock jerk-fuck of a game, in which we hit the small ball with the red stitching 3 times with positive result, I think we had a runner in scoring position fucking 2 times all game. I've seen more enthusiasm behind the fucking counter at Walmart. Pathetic. Penis. Fuck.

The fish racked up 7 runs, 3 off Worley colleague Fat Mike Zagurski which leads to me to this analogy; There is a reason that Metallica got signed to Electra an then made millions of dollars and had sex with trillions of women while the band Cinderalla still hand out their own guitar picks for Halloween and have no money for Valtrex. Some motherfuckers just ain't good enough.

We sucked. Dick. 1-7, fish.

Look at this blister on my foot. This thing is fucking painful.

Game 2 was a fuck ton better in respects to what The Men weren't doing 3 hours earlier. We hit the ball and funny little men in red pinstripes cross homeplate. Fuck they did it 7 times!

Roy Fucking Oswalt had a solid yet tumultuous start, giving up 4 runs in the form of 3 home runs. One of the things that seperates him from the wimps is that this doesn't seem to fucking bother him. He looks back, watches it fly, grabs his dick off the ground and tries again. A winner.

If anyone whines about the Phils being a long-ball or nothing team after this last season you can opretty much go down on a shotgun. All those 7 runs that crossed the funny thing were done so with balls banging around the grass. It's almost fucking infruriating how every Phil's ball hit toward the fence seems to fall just short these days at CPB. Not as infuriating as losing. It's good feeling to know that when the homers can't hump it we can put the ball in play and make it happen. Yes, Howard still swings for the stars every fucking time he's in the box and it seems like pitchers have figured out that you can throw him any pitch that's NOT a strike and he'll screw himself into the ground but we're stil making progress from last season. Utley had a pair of hits and Victorino had 3. Those are stats.

Phils win 7-4. Good.

Last season it was all homers and not much competition. This season it's all changed and we've learned to cope. People can bitch and cringe about being in 2nd place for 4 months but we're just as good, if not better than we've been in the previous 2 seasons. The numbers are almost identical at this point in the season, we've just not had to deal with a decent team of sistefuckers in a few. The only thing really stadning in our way is ourselves. The 1,2 and 3-hit games are what is gonna skin the cat, not the braves. They can't just walk this one through, it's time to fucking destroy the fucking weak. 1/2 back and now is no fucking time to let the golden vagina slip through our tentacles.

I'm gonna be in section 130-something tonight with my old man. Get at me if you know what's not good for you. Fuck new york and the city I live in, the city of assholes, I never worry , now that is a lie. Bloop.

JSIII

September 4+5 2010 PHI v MIL Games 2+3. The King Is Back

2010-09-06T06:29:00.000-07:00

Dear F's

I do apologize for my lack of superior internet presence for the last 2 days. I've been in the air for the last 30 hours, majestic above the lands of the world on my return to the only decent home I've ever known (pictured above).

My comments on the last 2 meeting with the Brew Crew are going to be succinct. Roy had another crapola night and Kendrick is a continual bitch. Not much to ruminate about. Well there is but I've been awake for 48 hours and your mighty Editor needs a nap. Fuck all.

I'm back, motherfuckers. You can holler at me in section 136 tomorrow night. I will now put on shorts, punch some scrapple down my throat and watch this fucking double on my couch. Labor Day. Salute the fucking flag and the workers of this great nation.

Fuck new york and fuck, it's good to be home.

JSIII

September 3 2010 PHI v MIL Game 1. Bitchin' Blanking Bingo

2010-09-04T00:00:00.000-07:00

Someone's growing a beard ooooooowwww

It seems that Cole Hamels has just figured it out. The Phillies are not going to fucking score dick for him. It's a fact. Fuck it, not much to worry about when he's throwing fucking spectres at his opponents. Another 1-0 decision is indicative of this sentiment, continually nailing more and more nails into the coffin of whiny, vagina-mouth Hamels of 2009.

3 fucking hits in 7 innings and fucking sinkhole in the run box. I think maybe 2 opposing runners reached scoring position all fucking game. I really have nothing more to say without sounding like I'd enjoy corn-holing the Californian. Come on, I'm an east coast boy!

The sole, lonely run came from, of course, the bat of the little Panamanian ripper. In a most unspectacular display, Chooch grounded out bringing the Hawaiian home. I guess that'll be all.

In an unusual turn of event, the Phillies have fucking one (not that weird) and the braves have fucking lost. That's 2 days in a fucking booyah row. That game of copy-cat was wearing thin for supporters of both sides and I couldn't be more fucking hard to see it going our way for the time being. I'm not gonna harp about it because every fucking time someone say anything about a "great opportunity to pounce" or "a time to really put the foot down" some fucking stupid dickhead shit goes down and we get fucking flogged. Fuck it. All the Phils gotta do is put their head down and destroy. Fuck the races, we gotta kill all weak cunts that stand in our way. Pretty simple battle plan.

Tonight I'm going to a Aussie Rules play-off match between the Western Bulldogs and the scum of the earth Collingwood Magpies. My team, The Mighty Carlton Blues, are playing in Sydney this weekend against the weaselly Swans; a feminine side of wankers and drongos. I've really learned a new fucking language.

To fully understand the kind of cretin that calls itself a Collingwood supporter I've included a very convincing piece of evidence that leads to my opinion of their ilk. Subhuman. Please watch in fascination at the lowest type of carbon-based life from on vivid display.

Tonight Halladay is looking to "return to form" Bullshit. Motherfucker is looking to maim at will with the fiercest of ballbag. Top Bloke. More Aussie speak. Gotta purge while I'm still on the Island.

Fuck new york and GO FISH!

JSIII

September 2 2010 PHI v COL Make-up from 5/11. Hurricane Weather To Hit East Coast. Who Gives Shit.

2010-09-03T01:56:00.000-07:00

As you have discerned by now, Followers, in an effort to be a fine purveyor of ideas and intelligent thought I've always held myself to a strict policy of remaining articulate as well and crude and truthful. Just for today I say fuck that shit.

COLORADO CAN SUCK OUR BLOATED 9-RUN SMASHING DICKS! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? BLANTON PRACTICALLY HANDED YOU THIS FUCKING GAME AND THIS IS THE SHIT YOU FUCKING DO WITH IT? LOLORADO!!! I'm a loser.

I'm not gonna lie, F's I was very upset by Joe Blanton and the lot's performance early on. The 3 run homer to Chris Iannattawhatever in the second definitely made we want to stab every person around me in the neck 8 times. I thought "Of course... the one game those losers from flushing bother to show up to in atl and get a win we have to throw our chance away" I was tired and cranky from travelling. I'm allowed that sometimes.

I decided to wash away the sorrows by going to McDonalds.

As I was sitting in McDonalds with my wife and son punching burgers and fries down my fat fucking throat the familiar pang came to me. I just couldnt not follow the game.

I took my wife's iPhone from her and dialed up the game and it was the top 7th. I had missed 2 innings walking to Maccas so I felt some shame already.

I'm not even going to fucking bother going through the actual plays of this inning, if you're reading this and dont already know you're a fucking dickhead and not worth the company of my readership.

As I watched this fucking 9 run', 3 homer inning on a tiny screen I, in turn, did a few other things:

1. Scared the shit out of a 4 year old girl.

2. Threw a handful of fries at a man eating on his lunch break.

3. Tried to explain to the man why I was so excited only to be matched with a clever "fucken yank" in reply. Thats fine with me. He probably fucks kids.

4. Said the words "THAT'S WHAT I'M FUCKING TALKING ABOUT! louder than any human in history.

5. Felt satisfaction. Like a real man does when his team does well.

Sure the bullpen tried to throw it away. Fuck it all. We go to the weak west for 7 games and we walk away with 6 in our flesh-satchels. I am happy and at peace. Until 7:05 pm tomorrow when it all starts over again. I love it.

Also... are you kidding me? HEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT! Chase Utley, along with the rest of that fucking beautiful team, is the fucking man. STILL.

More shortness from The Master, kids. I'm going out tonight to drink beer with a mate and watch the footy while scarin'cunts, fair dinkum. In English I'm going to a bar with a friend to watch sports. My wife let me out. Fuck new york and thanks for finally winning. Too bad your ace strained his sexually deviant peck. Still, we're 2 back.

JSIII

September 1 2010 PHI v LAD Game 3. Hiro-what Kuro-who?

2010-09-02T16:33:00.000-07:00

My dear Followers.......Please forgive me as this entry to the Greatest Phillies Clog On Earth is approximately 12 hours late. My sincere apologies goes to everyone of you who want on bended knee, drooling like rabid fools for the day's installment Right now am I travelling my way back home with my family. This is an arduous task filled with joys and murderous rage. Please allow this one absence of genius, just this once...

I'll make thing short today cause the Phils are gonna be playing a make-up game in Denver in about 2 hours.

Really, who the fuck can even remember the first game of this series? It's seems that adorable little 1-hitter that Hiroki Kuroda tossed our way doesn't really amount to a hill o dogshit now that we're leaving town victorious Roy Oswalt had oddly enough, a one-hitter himself into the 6th inning and only lasted 6 1/3 all together due to some command issues. Yeah, that's what I said. Motherfucker had command issues and still only gave up 1 hit in 6 1/3. Puny LA. The weakness in the West grows stronger

J-Roll and Victorino got the swingers party started early with solo shots of dodger's Clayton Kershaw to give Roy a little breathing room in an often confined space. Utley would bash in a 3 RBI in the 7th and we would put the fucking screw to Hung Chi Kuo, a reliever who's never given up runs to the Phils. Motherfucker gave up 2 like a a male junkie gives up the butt for some brown. The dealers; The Brown Dominator, Roll and The Mighty Chutley. Chut by the way is starting to look like himself in these last few games. The short firm swing, lining hot-shots on over the joint.

This infuriated me today. Melbourne is a great city but it is full of assholes, too.

This just made me laugh. From York, PA to Australia. From Shit Town to Hit Town to State Fairs to Melbourne. Good luck, Ed!

It's September, our month! Let's keep that shit roillin'! Go watch the fucking game!

JSIII

August 31 2010 PHI v LAD Game 2. Cracks In The Phucking Levee

2010-09-01T03:56:00.000-07:00

Good game last night, huh, F's? Looks like a few of the Phillies read yesterday's blog, too. The Howard Slump Tracker surely must've been the impetus for Big Piece to unload that drought breaking roping arc of man sauce into the seats in left-center. That's his first since fucking July 20 something. Brian Schneider definitely read my screed on the parallels of Pearl Harbor and what Kuroda did to us. He was so inspired and motivated by patriotic duty that he fucking bashed his own 3-run load into LA laps. Lastly who could doubt Choochie keeps an inquisitive eye on the Clog as he surely was offended by my ribald crack about the LA stands being filled with at least 60% illegals. It's a shame he had to take out his rage on his prison bitch, Jonathan Broxton, by rocking the poor fella for 2 more runs in the 7th, bringing Chooch's record against the big fuck to 4 for 4. I heard Carlos will also be signing autographs tomorrow before the game while he talks Johnny for a walk around Chavez Ravine. Sit the fuck down!

I don't know who the fuck to give The Hoagie to today....it's been so long since I've had this dilemma! Fuck it. I don't want people to think I'm shacking with the little Panamanian or a catcher mattress. Gotta give it to Piece. It's been so long. Sorry, Schneidy. We love you.

The only person who I think didn't read up was Kyle Kendrick. The rage inducing righty showed nothing but panty-waist-esque traits last night as he fucking walked in the first run of the game, This is becoming somewhat of a trademark for Kendrick as he did that shit 2 starts ago against the nats. Douche moves.

I'm not gonna do what you could easily with this photo...

He fucking held it down pretty cocksure until the 5th inning hump crept up and Kendrick just lost it. A run in the 5th and a 2 run shot off the bat of Bolonie-Loney next inning sat him down faster than the batsman could round the bases. Chollie was off his ass the second he heard "THWACK!" 5+, 7 hits 4 earned. Mediocre. He's gotta be getting as frustrated as we all are at this point.

I've said it a billion times before and I'll say it again. He's pure bullpen stock. He's Chan Ho Park. He's not a starter but could be a decent long man that goes 3 or 4 if the starter gets bombed. I would feel actual confidence in bringing him in for a 6th or 7th inning spell without batting a nut. I'm not saying this will happen but it's just something I'd love to see happen if we keep him around next season. He's not shit he's just inconsistent and I'm sick of the heartburn.

Still he and we get the W. That's all that fucking matter. 8-4. Did the levee break? Not fucking yet. Keep on swinging. Still fucking 3 back...BUT we're 1.5 up on sf in the WC. Sitting tight.

Short shit today, F's. Packing our shit and heading to Melbourne for a few days before we come back to the Greatest Fucking Country On Earth. Remember Christian, Melbourne's sole mets fan? Yeah, I'll be doing a follow-up video on how he feels his perennial underachievers have fared this season. Francouer got bounced today to Texas. Too bad they all can't be traded to a first place team. Christian is gonna get it, just you wait!

Oswalt's rocking the mean-mound today. Last time Mr. Os faced this lot he blanked 'em. I'll just take a series win, thanks. Fuck new york and beat LA and don't start using heroin.

JSIII

August 30 2010 PHI v LAD Game 1. Just Like Pearl Harbor

2010-08-31T03:28:00.000-07:00

Well, Followers! Do our Phillies not remember what happened on December 7th, 1941? Have they forgotten so soon the horrific events that took place on that fateful winter's afternoon? No, you think they haven't? Neither do I.

But then why the fuck would they allow Hiroki Kuroda to practically reenact those butt-fucking atrocities in front of a paying crowd full of fine U.S. citizens that came to see a baseball game, The Great American Pastime?

Wait, this game was in LA so let me re-phrase that query.

How the fuck could the Phils let that prick basically make us re-live the atrocious fucking nightmare of Pearl Harbor in front of a crowd that consisted of maybe, at most 30% American citizens? My dear F's....I just don't fucking know anymore.

I kid, I kid.....

Hoagie of Desperation.....

9 fucking innings of baseball and all the motherfucking 2 consecutive NL championship team can muster is one lousy hit, AGAIN! Really, it's not like this has been a rare occurrence this season. I can recall 2 other times off the top of my head. Back in May when Dice-K worked us for 8 until Juan Castro's blooped a single and then again just 2 weeks ago when that fruit with the cum-catcher on his face, R.A. Dickey, allow a single hit off the bat of fucking Cole Hamels. Granted no one is going to remember these games except for nerds so I can't really justify seething such hatred but it still feels better than saying to myself "yuck-yuck, it's just a game" because that would be a fucking lie. It's just pitiful play. I'm not even gonna list reasons why we're better than this.

I'll tip my red cap to Kuroda, though, folks. He pitched a hell of a game. The Pearl Harbor shit really was a bit overzealous, analogically speaking. I'm still happy Victorino smacked the only hit of the game in the 8th to spoil your little fun but you do deserve the credit for an outing of brilliance. Fuck you, too.

It's not like Halladay pitched all that bad, either. 3 runs in 7 inning was a quality start last I checked. Just figured I'd mention it. He wasn't great but he wasn't shit.

Ryan Howard gets the honor of being the first recipient of TBSS's latest decoration, The Retard Boner of the Game Award, for his piss-poor hustle in the first 2 innings. I think every fucking hit in those 2 innings-- save for the Carroll lucky flop-up that landed just fair--whizzed right past or under your glove. And don't gimme and "I'm still on the mend from injury" horseshit. If that's the case you fucking get back down to Clearwater. With your reach those fucking grounders should've been sure outs and it resulted in dodgers crossing the plate. We could've had a 1 or 2 run game going into the late innings but since you decided to phone it in they figured our weakness and played on it. C'mon, my man. You got more class than those bums.

Also you may have noticed our newest gadget on the right-hand column; The Howard Slump Tracker. I don't know about you but this timing bullshit is getting to be a tired excuse. When's the fucking dam gonna break, huh?

I demand full retribution for these fucking crimes against humanity, Kendrick. Man the fuck up and give us a solid show. It's been a while. Last time you face these turds you got sat down pretty fucking quick and gave up maybe 70 runs. For yourself, if anything, you should want to smoke these chodes.

Fuck new york and fuck new york for being the worst team on earth. The worst batting average as a team after the All-Star break..... Of course they're not even gonna put up a fight down in atlanta. Not even for their own dignity and self respect. Weak.

JSIII

PS. At least none of us are British.

Video courtesy of Follower Rhys.

August 29 2010 PHI v SD Game 3. Super Absorbent Maxi-Padres With Wings

2010-08-30T03:04:00.000-07:00

The Fucking Fightin's continue their utter domination of the Padres and their foolish camouflage unis at Petco Park with yesterday's sweeping fucking 5-0 victory, a slaughter at the hands of Cole Fucking Hamels, his booyah arsenal and a show of force from The Rooster and Mike Fucking Sweendog. This home-away-from-home win extends the Phils' successful streak bringing their record to 11-1 in their last 12 games in San Diego. To use the vernacular of our times you could say the Phillies own the pads at home. Or you could talk like and adult.

Oh yeah.....

Colio just keeps fucking giving us the goods on his 2010 warpath of sheer dominance. As predicted yesterday, Cole would need only meager-to-moderate run support against SD to finally tack another W onto his season record. He did so with grace and cocksure endurance, shutting out the friars for just the 7th time this season, their 3rd at home. I'm not here saying that 5 runs is fiddle-sticks as far as support is concerned but something tells me that Cole went into this outing looking to throw a fat fucking donut up on that SD scoreline. Hamels K'd 6 and allowed just 4 hits over his large-cocked 8 innings of work. Calling that a gem is like calling a pizza an asshole.

Runs usually come at a premium at Petco and homeruns at even a more premium-er, as we've learned over the course of this fucking series, but not for the fucking big 3 of the game.

The scoring got started with the patented J-roll-wacks-in-Choochie combo in the 3rd but sat dormant as pad's start Clayton Richards worked quietly but effectively until "the dam broke" so speak (or as much as it fucking can at that fucking park) when Mike Sweendog roped a fucking 2 run dinger down the right field line.

In a post-game interview Sweeney attributed his motivation to step up was due to having "the Big Horse in the stable" speaking of Ryan Howard and with Sweendog being a SD native, that it's always great to produce with your family in the crowd. Someone's gotta move those kin to Swarthmore or someplace nice and cozy just outside the city limits. Don't worry, we got beaches and junkies, too. It's just like home!

Sweendog is munching on some serious HEAT tonight!

The Phils struck again in the 8th when Choochie scored on a shitty Ryan Ludwig throwing error and then again in the 9th when this happened:

Yeah, that ball ended up going here:

A welcomed fan snag.....eat shit, Hairston.

Mad Dog came in for the final 3 outs of the game and the Phils and their thousands of fucking Phans that infiltrated Petco are leaving town with an extra kick in their step. Boo. Yah. 5. Fucking. Nothing. Swept.

The asshole braves won again from behind so we're still sitting 2 behind. Let's hope those fucking worthless dicks from flushing can at least show some late season sack and claim a shred of dignity out of their upcoming series at turner field. Part of me thinks that may be asking a bit much from the muts but there's always hope.

So yeah, I've been jamming Megadeth records a fair bit lately. Kind of a rekindling of a childhood headbanger flame. It's really inexplicable but do I really need to explain myself for liking a heavy metal band? This isn't fucking China.

This is a great video of 'Deths classic cautionary tale Devil's Island, detailing the pitfalls of substance abuse. This was Dave Mustaine. In 1986.

Tonight I get to watch the Phils/LA opener at home and sexual mutant free cause they're showing it free to air. Halladay/Kuroda. It's gonna a be a bloody bewdy, you little rippah!

Fuck new york and hold on to your love says Neil.

JSIII

August 28 2010 PHI v SD Game 2. Hawaiian Hoagie Hangs Shit On Pads

2010-08-29T03:24:00.000-07:00

Before we get started I'd like you to take a look at the photo above. Anything look strange? Do you notice the fucking sea of red above the dugout? In San Deigo? The Phans have taken the fuck over! Watch out, shitty world.....

I'm gonna be honest with you, Followers. If any of you were to walk up to me and told that the Phils, after getting cornholed by Houston at home, were gonna waltz into Petco Park and stick the first 2 games right up their 2 best pitcher's asses I would've called you a lying dickhead. A team that lately has been coming with the collective offensive power of a wine cooler couldn't possibly be up to that task, could they?

Well, if any of you mutants see me on the street and remember you can call me a stupid cunt for that assumption. I'll be back in Philly in a week.

Joe Fucking Blanton get the "Fucking" placed into his name because that's exactly what he was doing yesterday. Fucking the opposing team with a display of force not seen often from the big goatee this season. He went just 1 inning under his max going 6 with as many hits, 3K, 1 earned and 1 BB. Solid as a healthy bowel movement.

Come now, Followers. You know where the fucking Hoagie Of Heat is going today. After what felt like weeks of being hosed by right-handed pitching, Mr. Winner Ford, Shane Victorino has begun to rekindle his relationship with the RBI and the Stand-Up Triple. The three haven't been speaking much lately and it's been getting kind of tense around the clubhouse.

Yesterday,Shane extended the first olive branch of atonement in the 5th inning rocking in Werth with a single to get the Phils on the board. It's not gonna be all OK just like that but you gotta start somewhere.

Then in true reconciliatory fashion, he called the Stand-Up Triple in the 7th inning and apologized for cheating on her with The Choke Pop-Up and The Weak Ground-Out for the last few weeks. This was a major break-through their relationship and the game as it smashed in Rooster once again for his second RBI and opened the door for Mike Sweeney to ground into his fourth RBI as a Fightin', giving the Phils a 3-1.

This little cheeky Hawaiian prick even gunned down what would've been the go ahead run by about 10 feet in the 5th inning, his 7th assist of the year.

Speaking of atoning for past indiscretions, Brad Lidge--who fucking balked in the tying run in the previous game like a jerk-off-- came in for the vintage 1-2-3 lights outs shit. I forgive him for the balk, do you? Really?

So here in Australia if you're a male, before you get married you have what is called a Bucks Night. It's kind of like your garden variety bachelor party except in lieu of getting a bunch of cocaine and having regrettable sex with a tranny your mates try to get you beaten to death.

I saw this lucky pre-nup at the Raiders game last night. I couldn't get a good shot of his face because I didn't want to talk to or fight this drongo but his face was markered blue. He's going to make some lucky chippy very, very unhappy. Hopefully.

Today we go for the broom-broom-shake-shake-the room with Hamels on the mound. He hasn't recorded a W in about 400 starts cause the Phils haven't given him dicks worth of run support but that could very well work in his favor. The Pads don't score many runs, relying on their fucking awesome starting pitching and evil bullpen. They're 12th in the league in runs scored and hitting fuck all as team average-wise. As long as Cole can keep the pace he's been on in his last few starts I don't see this game being too much of an issue for him. If The Men can scrape together 2-3 manufactured runs in the meadows of Petco we should be floating upstream to LA on a river of Clergy tears.

As always, fuck new york and listen to Megadeth.

JSIII

August 27 2010 PHI V SD Game 1. "We're From Chinese"

2010-08-28T05:53:00.000-07:00

In my attempt to film a video blog on the lawn outside of Canberra Stadium I was greeted by the future of Australia with warm and articulate arms. I hope their parents are proud they've reared such Mensa material. This is seriouslt the best video blog I could ever do that doesn't involve a donkey, David Wright and some ecstasy.

I just got home. The Green Machine stomped a mudhole in the North Queensland Cowboys 48-4. Good to know no matter where you go in the world there is always a team called the Cowboys that fucks the dog.

Joe Blanton better be wearing his fucking man's underwear because I want to take the momentum of last night's win and parlet it into a ballbag of victory. I want the Phillies to come home victorious like the fucking champions we all know they are.

Like I said in the vid....fuck new york, go the Phillies and go you fucken Raiders.

JSIII

August 26 2010 PHI v HOU Game 4. Clowns And Women

2010-08-27T04:40:00.000-07:00

Wandy Rodriguez is a mutant drongo. Kyle Kendrick is a 12 year old girl's first period. Handing anyone of of the healthy Phillies a bat is like handing a chimpanzee the keys to the Challenger. When the fuck is Ross Gload gonna be healthy again?

So, we got a man on 2nd and 3rd and no out in the 7th inning, it's 0-4 Houston. Shane Victorino comes up to bat, ready to destroy the competition. Or strike out. Weak boy. Not even a pop-up.

It's fine, we got Schneider up and a disposable out to maybe finally drive in run.

Schneider puts the ball in the air to right field. Hunter Pence, the weirdest looking inbred blue-blood horse-man, fields the fly and guns it to home plate.

Jayson Werth and his superior base-running skills charges home plate like a guido charges a math test.

Out. He can't tap dance either. Fuck this game. Fuck this life.

Swept by the astros. At home. 4 games.

Do we deserve a post-season? Do we have the mental capacity to actually be a contending force in any sort of play-off situation? Is this full strength line-up worth a used condom's worth of pud-juice? Were the Phillies better off with the Valdez, Gload, Brown, Castro and Sweeney?

Yes, yes, yes, no. I just don't have explanation. You're gonna have to wait just like I am. It's looking like it's gonna come down to the 2 braves series in September and October. Of course it is....

I got nothing left to say about these women. Fuck new york and fuck houston and fuck many other things. Still the Phillies. Can't fuck with our worst.

JSIII

August 25 2010 PHI v HOU Game 3. More At-Bats Of Sadness

2010-08-26T04:10:00.000-07:00

Well, Followers, the same bullshit happened last year. We play down to the astros just like we played down to the fucking pirates just like we played down to the cubs. Only last year this series was in Houston and we had a 5 1/2 game lead in the fucking division. Not even Roy Halladay can stop the fucking flood of dogshit into our mouths as we fall again to the team sitting at 12th worst in the ERA column this season. Not to mention they are a bunch of cheating pantie-waists. 2-3 Houston, in Philly; Our house. Not that it's his fault or anything. Last I checked 7 pitched, 3 earned was still a quality start.

The batting order continues to resemble a blind Stephen Hawking as we allowed yet another ex-Phil, J.A. Happ, come back to town and piss in our eyes. No umpiring crew (I still would seriously like to see an AIDS bulldozer take them all out) can be to blame for us to play so meekly, especially in a pennant race at a 2.5 game margin. Jayson Werth came with firepower and Polanco rolled in Halladay for our 2 whopping runs and all we have to show for it is astros egg on our face.

Ben Francisco can't take all the blame for yesterday's loss but he can take a lot. He must've been sniffing Werth's jockies or something. Getting picked off at 3rd with your thumb in your rear with a man at 1st and J-Roll ready to take aim on a pitch that could tie the game in the 7th inning is inexcusable. Weak, Benny, Weak.

At least the braves choked monumentally to the rox, giving up a game they lead 10-1 in the 3rd inning only to go down 12-10. I guess Venters rhymes with Broxton in Atlanta. That even made regular news in Australia, it was that fucking bad. Still 2.5 back and keeping pace in our own way.

Here's a video of Iris DeMent singing a song about going out into a field and talking to a dead daughter. Happy time.

This video always cheers my up, as well. Thing aren't so grim, My Followers.

Keep those loyal head up, friends. Maybe Kyle Kendrick will take some weight our shoulders.

Fuck new york and fuck Greg Gibson and fuck Brian Knight and fuck Scott Barry and fuck the other dick.

JSIII

PS, F's.... It's good times.

August 24 2010 PHI v HOU Game 2. I Hate.....

2010-08-25T03:02:00.000-07:00

                           A real man is hard to find (pictured above). I guess a fucking go ump is, too....

......every fucking person and entity on earth right now but I still love the Phillies. It makes life real.

Listen to the King Of All Sports Media, Larry Fucking Anderson, go buck on some blind dickhead here. Every one of those umpires can get attacked by a fucking swarm of cancer bees for all I care. Howard should've eaten that fucker's face off.

See yous tomorrow as usual,

JSIII

August 23 2010 PHI v HOU Game 1. Raging Shark

2010-08-24T03:18:00.000-07:00

I don't even know how to approach today's fucking Clog, Followers. I honestly am still fucking filled with rage over yesterday's game that it almost consumes me. All day I've had to cool down but still I sit here, contemplating arson and wondering how fucking hard I could punch Jayson Werth in the face. It's been almost 10 hours since the game ended.... I may need to step back from this whole baseball thing for 5 minutes. I'm turning into an actual psychopath. Walking down the street stifling screams of agony, punching at the air in fury. I can't stop now.

Today I had to take my wife's car in for a tune-up so I was left to my own devices from 9am-12pm, precisely the time the Phillies are on for night games.

After dropping the wheels off at the garage, I walked into downtown Canberra to look for an internet kiosk. Like an Asian. I don't have an iPhone yet because I am an idoit so I was at the behest of pay-internet in a public place. Sheeeesh.

On my journey to the center of the earth, I walked passed a LAN gaming center/internet cafe and decided that this was going to be my hang for the next few hours.

I walked down the dark stairwell and just as I approached the front counter to pay money fro internet the powerful stench of chronic masturbator hit me on the face like a fucking rig. You know, the smell your room gets after you jerk-off into a sock for a weekend straight when your 15. Only this fucking place was filled with pimply empty-utted creting, a barren wasteland of World Of Warcraft virginity and Kit-Kat wrappers. Disgusting.

I sat down, knocked a few red bull cans out of the way of the keyboard, and dialed up mlb.tv.

By the time I got on it was the bottom of the 2nd already and what do you know, Joe Blanotn gave up a lead off double and a run in the first inning. Not too bad but fucking typical.

Brett Myers is still a fucking walking spittoon, a goatee like a Slipknot fan and a jaw like West Virginia. I almost missed him for a second but then remembered that he plays for the astros now and is a wife beater.

Brett Myers wasn't fucking around, he struck out 9 in 7 innings of work, He looked sharp as ever. What a fucking douche bag.

Joe Blanton by the same was no cheap date, either. He fanned 9, as well, a season fucking high for Sloppy Joe. He gave up 1 run, went 7 and looked the part for the second start in a row. Maybe shit's finally falling into place for Joe-Joe. Now if we can only convince his brain the 1=2 then those first innings might not be such a mental hump for him. Still, any improvement is lauded here at TBSS.

So after 6 1/2 innings the Phils have a 2-1 lead thanks to a Choochie homer in the 3rd and a J-Roll RBI in the 4th. It's bottom of the 6th and there's 2 outs, Jayson Werth at second.

Choochie steps to the plate and in his fashion, he draws a walk. he's a smart player and knows that Valdez could probably plate Werth if he got on.

As Choochie starts his trot down the 1st baseline, 'stros catcher Something Quintero fires the ball to second.

What the fuck? Why....Oh yeah, JAYSON FUCKING WERTH WAS FUCKING LOOKING AT A SEAGULL OR SINGING A NICKELBACK SONG TO HIMSELF WHILE DAWDLING LIKE A TURD 5 FEET FROM SECOND BASE WITH HIS FINGERS UP HIS ASS NOT PAYING THE FUCK ATTENTION!!!!!

He gets picked off. My body fills with anger. I could almost feel these wizard nerds around me feel my hatred. What a dickhead. Werth is always fucking around on the base paths. He is consistently a poor base runner and now you just fucked us out of a threat. Of course Chollie keeps him in the game. Fuck, he shoulda been cleaning Moyer's cup with his tongue for the rest of the game. No hustle, no love.

Skip 2 innings later to the top of the 8th. Mad Dog is in for Blanton and he's just given up a hit to some fucking dickass on the astros. Up comes Michael Bourne, a fast running motherfucker.

Bourne lays down a bunt to move over whateverhisnameis on first and gets it down the first baseline. Howard comes rushing down to play the ball. he grabs it and dives at Bourne to make the tag.

Bourne, to avoid the tag dives, hmmmmm. maybe 5 feet out of the basepath. and is called FUCKING SAFE!!!! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME YOU FUCKING WORTHLESS CUNT!!!! HE WAS 5 FEET OUT SIDE OF THE BASEPATH, LOOK AT THE FUCKING DIVOT HE LEFT IN THE FUCKING GRASS!!!!! PHYSICAL FUCKING EVIDENCE, YOU BLIND TWAT!!!!!

Chollie gets booted, some other fucker lays ANOTHER bunt down and Carlos Lee gets a fucking hit to drive in dickinmothwhoeverpplayer and Bourne, a runner that shouldn't have been on the fucking bases, to take the lead 2-3.

At this point my brain is about to fucking liquefy. My rage is forcing the fucking camouflage paint to peel off the walls of this fucking den of cum and I can do nothing but fume!!! How the fuck could that stupid cunt of an ump Greg Gibson call that fucking play in good conscience. I hope he's fucking still awake. What a true dickhead.

Of course we lose the game. Of course I still want to stab 60 cats in their faggoty little faces. Writing this just makes it worse. Of course the braves lost last night, too. Fucking comedy. Still 2.5 back and a game in the lead of the WC.

I spent the next 30 minutes walking around downtown cursing at everything. I truly wanted someone dead. Like I said, I need to maybe take a step back. I probably will never.

I spent the rest of the day downloading Megadeth albums.

In closing of my little story, Followers, I would like to say Fuck You to mlb.com for calling that a fucking rally for Houston, I would like to wish umpire Greg Gibson a large black dick in the mouth 45-60 times over the next few days and hope Jayson Werth get's turned away at the door of Hooters. If I was managing this fucking team he's be fucking Bat-Boy for the next 3 games with a jersey that reads "NANCY HUSTLE" and Hamels would be throwing at the heads of the 1-4 hitters tonight. Now I am going to try to do yoga and then watch Ellen. She makes me laugh and I LOVE her dancing! Fuck new york and fuck everything.

JSIII