Salty's comment in the Boston Globe read "it takes a strong guy to do that. " Well Salty, thank you for that humble comment!
Salty sat in the clubhouse resting against the table. His left leg kicked the gaterade bottle and sprayed the sugary substance all over the floor.
"Oh sorry about that everyone but you know, it takes a coordinated guy to do that. "
Salty didn't notice the shaking heads as he waved his hands at the reporters with that sly smile.
"Salty, this is your first home run of the season. "
"Well, it takes a strong guy to do that you know. "
Salty didn't notice the rolling eyes but instead gave out a grand smirk.
"Ya, I feel if this team is going anywhere, it will have to rest on my shoulders. The great, broad strong shoulders of Salty."
Salty waved his arm and tensed it revealing a small lump that passed for a muscle.
"Fear that, " said Salty.
He gave out a grand smile that shimmered through his dull teeth. He wondered why the reporters were chuckling. No matter, thought Salty. God like status took time to appreciate.
"Salty, now, "screamed Tito in the background.
Tito shouted and Salty responded strolling through the locker room making sure that his glow and presence were seen by everyone. He closed the door and sat down.
"Salty, sit down."
Salty took his time and allowed himself to cross his legs and wave his hands in the air.
"Sir..."
Salty put his feet on the desk crashing paperwork and smashing into objects. Salty picked them up but sadly the lamp went flying through the air as he picked it up in haste and smashed Tito's skull sending him to the ground.
"Oh, I guess you're sleeping. Well...OK."
Salty went out of the room and saw the crowd lingering around the office. They seemed to have looks of desperation on their faces.
"Hey everyone. How about McDonalds. The first happy meal is on me!"
Salty felt sad when everyone bolted for the door until he realized it was clear that his aura of light was too bright for the rest of the crowd. He walked forward knocking over another gatorade container before smashing against the table and sending the water buckets to the ground.
"Wow, that's a bad mess. Oh well, I guess someone will clean it up. A strong man like myself needs to get some rest. Oh the life of a God."
Salty walked out. Another game for tomorrow.
Monday, May 16, 2011
Sunday, May 15, 2011
A Day in the life of a 3rd base coach
Tim Bogar was the 3rd base coach of the Red Sox. He got up from the floor and looked at the clock. It said 6:00 am. The alarm blazed in his ears. He rolled over on the floor.
"Wow, 6 pm already. I overslept."
He got up and went to the shower. He turned on the water and cleaned himself off and then got out of the shower. He wiped off himself and his clothes.
"Wow, my clothes are wet. How did that happen?"
Still confused, he went to the bathroom and grabbed a hairbrush. After applying shampoo he brushed his teeth. The hairbrush was quite large for his mouth and painful but Tim wanted to be good to his teeth.
"I always get so many cavities, " he thought to himself. "You would think they would make these toothbrushes smaller and toothpaste always makes me want to throw up."
He then grabbed a toothbrush, poured toothpaste on it and brushed his hair.
"This is taking forever. If they would only make toothbrushes for hair and hairbrushes for teeth. Wow, my brain is starting to fry. I'd better stop thinking. It hurts too much."
Before leaving the hotel room, Tim moved the mattress and the boxspring back on the bed. He didn't sweat since his clothes were so wet.
"Beds take up so much room. I wonder why they put them in a hotel."
Tim hated beds. They got in the way of a good nights sleep on the floor. Bogar walked out of the room and to the elevator. He pushed the button.
"My, I need food. I'll go to the topfloor."
Bogar pressed a button and once the elevator opened he walked inside. Dripping water soaked up in the carpet from his wet clothes. He watched the numbers get smaller until they reached one.
"Top floor. Wow, I'm hungry."
He walked to the breakfast area. The waiter looked at him strangely. He looked at the waiter strangely.
"Breakfast sir?"
"Yes."
"Help yourself."
Bogar, was so happy. He walked to the food on the tables and starting eating. He was so hungry.
"Sir, what are you doing?"
Bogar got confused. Everybody was confusing him today.
"Eating?"
"Sir, bring the food to the plates."
Bogar felt dumb. The waiter was right. He was rude. He grabbed the eggs with his hands in a big lump and dumped them on the plate. The waiter looked so stunned. Bogar thought he was dumb.
"Sir, use a spoon. For heavens sake, nobody can be this stupid."
"I can."
Bogar used a spoon and scooped up food. He put it on his plate and then dumped the eggs in his mouth with his hands.
"Sit down sir."
Bogar agreed. My there were so many rules. It confused him. He could feel his head hurt. Nevertheless he wanted to be nice. He sat on the floor and ate.
"Get out. That's it. I'll get you your check and you get out."
Bogar felt so happy inside. He was getting a check. This was so wonderful.
"Thanks for paying me!"
"What are you talking about?"
"You did give me a check!"
The waiter starred into his eyes.
"You're the third base coach for the Red Sox aren't you!"
"Yes, how did you know!"
The waiter smiled.
"Oh, just a wild guess. Now you run along to the ballpark. "
Bogar felt so happy. He got up and smiled and walked to the curb. He knew he had to get to the ballpark. He saw a cab and grabbed it.
"Sir, what are you doing?"
"I'm grabbing a cab!"
"Sir, get in the backseat. Wow, nobody can be that stupid."
Tim laughed. He could. He sat in the backseat and waited.
"Wow, its' already 1.20 pm. "
"No, that's the fare. "
"I don't want to go to the fair. I want to go to the ballpark."
He saw the cabdriver hit his head on the steering wheel. That must have really hurt he thought.
"Nobody can be this stupid."
They drove to the park. Tim liked the cab driver but worried. The time was not 6:00 pm when he arrived at the park.
"Six dollars sir."
"Wow, that's also the time. Here!"
He walked out and went to the park but felt the need for a hotdog. He walked to the stand.
"One hotdog."
The server handed him a hotdog. He looked at it.
"Wow, that doesn't even look like a hotdog yet it is a hotdog. I'm confused."
"3.00 sir."
"Does that look like a hotdog to you?"
"It's already 3:00 pm."
Tim saw the jaw drop on the waiter.
"Hey Tim."
He turned around. It was David Ortiz.
"Hey David Ortiz."
"That's Tito Francona sir. 3.00 sir."
"Wow, I'm confused."
"You're not the only one sir. 3.00 dollars sir. You got that?"
Tim felt better. He understood. After paying the money Tim walked on the field. He saw David Ortiz.
"Hey hit me some ground balls Tim."
"OK."
Tim took the bat and threw it at David Ortiz. It flattened him on the ground and knocked him unconscience.
"What are you doing!" shouted David Ortiz. It was Tim Wakefield but for some reason everyone on the team was David Ortiz to him.
"He said hit him."
"Ground balls. Hit some ground balls."
Tim now understood. He grabbed some balls and started wacking them with a bat. He hit them hard.
"Wow, "said Theo Epstein. "Tim thinks like me!"
Tim looked over at David Ortiz who was being treated by paramedics.
"Is that enough ground balls."
Tim saw a shocked look on everyone's faces but soon they all ignored him and went by their business.
"Stay away from ME!"
Tim couldn't figure out why David Ortiz was shouting at him and being carried away on a stretcher. It was Josh Beckett of course.
Tim smiled and said, "hello David Ortiz."
Josh, (David Ortiz) just walked away keeping his eyes on Tim at all times. He watched a reporter walk over.
"Hey Tim, hit some line drives for some photos. "
"NO!" shouted half the team but already Tim was throwing bats into the air and balls and helmets and everything else sending a shower of items that cracked skulls and broke bones. When he was done he wiped the sweat off his brow. Half the team was knocked out and on the ground.
"Was that OK?"
The reporter was on the ground unconscience. Tim didn't get an answer. He was confused. He then starred at Josh (David Ortiz) who was getting up from the ground.
"Hmm, I hate reporters. They ask you to do something and then they fall asleep."
Tim walked off the field. He wanted another hot dog and a nap. It had been a full day.
"Wow, 6 pm already. I overslept."
He got up and went to the shower. He turned on the water and cleaned himself off and then got out of the shower. He wiped off himself and his clothes.
"Wow, my clothes are wet. How did that happen?"
Still confused, he went to the bathroom and grabbed a hairbrush. After applying shampoo he brushed his teeth. The hairbrush was quite large for his mouth and painful but Tim wanted to be good to his teeth.
"I always get so many cavities, " he thought to himself. "You would think they would make these toothbrushes smaller and toothpaste always makes me want to throw up."
He then grabbed a toothbrush, poured toothpaste on it and brushed his hair.
"This is taking forever. If they would only make toothbrushes for hair and hairbrushes for teeth. Wow, my brain is starting to fry. I'd better stop thinking. It hurts too much."
Before leaving the hotel room, Tim moved the mattress and the boxspring back on the bed. He didn't sweat since his clothes were so wet.
"Beds take up so much room. I wonder why they put them in a hotel."
Tim hated beds. They got in the way of a good nights sleep on the floor. Bogar walked out of the room and to the elevator. He pushed the button.
"My, I need food. I'll go to the topfloor."
Bogar pressed a button and once the elevator opened he walked inside. Dripping water soaked up in the carpet from his wet clothes. He watched the numbers get smaller until they reached one.
"Top floor. Wow, I'm hungry."
He walked to the breakfast area. The waiter looked at him strangely. He looked at the waiter strangely.
"Breakfast sir?"
"Yes."
"Help yourself."
Bogar, was so happy. He walked to the food on the tables and starting eating. He was so hungry.
"Sir, what are you doing?"
Bogar got confused. Everybody was confusing him today.
"Eating?"
"Sir, bring the food to the plates."
Bogar felt dumb. The waiter was right. He was rude. He grabbed the eggs with his hands in a big lump and dumped them on the plate. The waiter looked so stunned. Bogar thought he was dumb.
"Sir, use a spoon. For heavens sake, nobody can be this stupid."
"I can."
Bogar used a spoon and scooped up food. He put it on his plate and then dumped the eggs in his mouth with his hands.
"Sit down sir."
Bogar agreed. My there were so many rules. It confused him. He could feel his head hurt. Nevertheless he wanted to be nice. He sat on the floor and ate.
"Get out. That's it. I'll get you your check and you get out."
Bogar felt so happy inside. He was getting a check. This was so wonderful.
"Thanks for paying me!"
"What are you talking about?"
"You did give me a check!"
The waiter starred into his eyes.
"You're the third base coach for the Red Sox aren't you!"
"Yes, how did you know!"
The waiter smiled.
"Oh, just a wild guess. Now you run along to the ballpark. "
Bogar felt so happy. He got up and smiled and walked to the curb. He knew he had to get to the ballpark. He saw a cab and grabbed it.
"Sir, what are you doing?"
"I'm grabbing a cab!"
"Sir, get in the backseat. Wow, nobody can be that stupid."
Tim laughed. He could. He sat in the backseat and waited.
"Wow, its' already 1.20 pm. "
"No, that's the fare. "
"I don't want to go to the fair. I want to go to the ballpark."
He saw the cabdriver hit his head on the steering wheel. That must have really hurt he thought.
"Nobody can be this stupid."
They drove to the park. Tim liked the cab driver but worried. The time was not 6:00 pm when he arrived at the park.
"Six dollars sir."
"Wow, that's also the time. Here!"
He walked out and went to the park but felt the need for a hotdog. He walked to the stand.
"One hotdog."
The server handed him a hotdog. He looked at it.
"Wow, that doesn't even look like a hotdog yet it is a hotdog. I'm confused."
"3.00 sir."
"Does that look like a hotdog to you?"
"It's already 3:00 pm."
Tim saw the jaw drop on the waiter.
"Hey Tim."
He turned around. It was David Ortiz.
"Hey David Ortiz."
"That's Tito Francona sir. 3.00 sir."
"Wow, I'm confused."
"You're not the only one sir. 3.00 dollars sir. You got that?"
Tim felt better. He understood. After paying the money Tim walked on the field. He saw David Ortiz.
"Hey hit me some ground balls Tim."
"OK."
Tim took the bat and threw it at David Ortiz. It flattened him on the ground and knocked him unconscience.
"What are you doing!" shouted David Ortiz. It was Tim Wakefield but for some reason everyone on the team was David Ortiz to him.
"He said hit him."
"Ground balls. Hit some ground balls."
Tim now understood. He grabbed some balls and started wacking them with a bat. He hit them hard.
"Wow, "said Theo Epstein. "Tim thinks like me!"
Tim looked over at David Ortiz who was being treated by paramedics.
"Is that enough ground balls."
Tim saw a shocked look on everyone's faces but soon they all ignored him and went by their business.
"Stay away from ME!"
Tim couldn't figure out why David Ortiz was shouting at him and being carried away on a stretcher. It was Josh Beckett of course.
Tim smiled and said, "hello David Ortiz."
Josh, (David Ortiz) just walked away keeping his eyes on Tim at all times. He watched a reporter walk over.
"Hey Tim, hit some line drives for some photos. "
"NO!" shouted half the team but already Tim was throwing bats into the air and balls and helmets and everything else sending a shower of items that cracked skulls and broke bones. When he was done he wiped the sweat off his brow. Half the team was knocked out and on the ground.
"Was that OK?"
The reporter was on the ground unconscience. Tim didn't get an answer. He was confused. He then starred at Josh (David Ortiz) who was getting up from the ground.
"Hmm, I hate reporters. They ask you to do something and then they fall asleep."
Tim walked off the field. He wanted another hot dog and a nap. It had been a full day.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Sox say losing strategy is working
The Boston Red Sox officially annouced their "Win to lose" strategy in hopes of turning around the season. I had to read the statement a few times over a couple of beers and it still doesn't make much sense to me.
Hi, I'm Joe Derive.
The Red Sox, still under .500 are trying everything to turn this team around. The Win to lose strategy essentially puts the team in a position to require losing all the time instead of winning. This of course begs the question -- what is the new strategy?
"It will save me the trouble of getting injuries to stay out of the lineup, "said J.D.Drew who has done little in the lineup besides grounding out into double plays. "I like to fake real injuries so that I don't shame myself in front of the crowds. "
Others take a different view such as David Ortiz.
"I'm not buying this approach. I'm going to keep pulling the ball and hitting into one double play after another until I start hitting. I mean my LOB, whatever that means, keeps going up and that's a good thing. I may have a new World's record. That approach has really worked for me so far."
You know, you have to wonder what medication(s) Tito Francona is on to cope. Still others feel tremendous frustration such as pitching coach Dave Madden.
"We have been facing some really tough teams. When we face easier teams we...well actually we lose against them too. Never mind. "
Many state that the biggest obstacle is Dustin Pedroia and Kevin Youk, who understandably, are very frustrated with their performances. Both feel they have to play better as stated in their comments.
"We're very frustrated. We have to play better. "
Still, perhaps it is the lack of consistency, more than anything else, that defines the 2011 team. Despite all their talent they lose on a regular basis making it a modern art form. Adrian Gonsalez has been very vocal about the situation.
"This team sucks. I'm hitting like mad and they keep grounding out into double plays. Even when I hit two home runs they suck. I mean I left San Diego for this? What was I thinking...what? Oh ya, I forgot about the money. Like I said, this team is great."
Whatever the reasons the Sox are hoping this strategy will work. Right now everyone feels desperate to get wins going and it isn't easy. The good news is that everyone is starting to improve in small but important ways. Perhaps the biggest improvement is Dan Wheeler.
"I throw strikes and give up home runs, "said Dan Wheller. "That's what they pay me for. Everyone likes my approach and I don't understand why the Sox are happy to see me on the disabled list. I don't give up walks. Home runs are much better. I really shouldn't have gotten this labotomy should I have?"
Still there are some highlights like Tim Wakefield being the oldest and nicest player still playing in baseball history. He may not get his wins but he's too much of a class act to feel anything but great.
"Now how in @#@) hell is that something to @#@) celebrate when I won't $(@# get the career wins I wanted and when I do $#@$# play well this teams #$)# it up for #$# me. F-k you Derive."
When we all get old Tim. Still the Sox are on the road and hoping for a losing victory. All I can say is that I'm glad I have a subscription to a mail order beer company. I'm going to need it.
Joe Derive.
Hi, I'm Joe Derive.
The Red Sox, still under .500 are trying everything to turn this team around. The Win to lose strategy essentially puts the team in a position to require losing all the time instead of winning. This of course begs the question -- what is the new strategy?
"It will save me the trouble of getting injuries to stay out of the lineup, "said J.D.Drew who has done little in the lineup besides grounding out into double plays. "I like to fake real injuries so that I don't shame myself in front of the crowds. "
Others take a different view such as David Ortiz.
"I'm not buying this approach. I'm going to keep pulling the ball and hitting into one double play after another until I start hitting. I mean my LOB, whatever that means, keeps going up and that's a good thing. I may have a new World's record. That approach has really worked for me so far."
You know, you have to wonder what medication(s) Tito Francona is on to cope. Still others feel tremendous frustration such as pitching coach Dave Madden.
"We have been facing some really tough teams. When we face easier teams we...well actually we lose against them too. Never mind. "
Many state that the biggest obstacle is Dustin Pedroia and Kevin Youk, who understandably, are very frustrated with their performances. Both feel they have to play better as stated in their comments.
"We're very frustrated. We have to play better. "
Still, perhaps it is the lack of consistency, more than anything else, that defines the 2011 team. Despite all their talent they lose on a regular basis making it a modern art form. Adrian Gonsalez has been very vocal about the situation.
"This team sucks. I'm hitting like mad and they keep grounding out into double plays. Even when I hit two home runs they suck. I mean I left San Diego for this? What was I thinking...what? Oh ya, I forgot about the money. Like I said, this team is great."
Whatever the reasons the Sox are hoping this strategy will work. Right now everyone feels desperate to get wins going and it isn't easy. The good news is that everyone is starting to improve in small but important ways. Perhaps the biggest improvement is Dan Wheeler.
"I throw strikes and give up home runs, "said Dan Wheller. "That's what they pay me for. Everyone likes my approach and I don't understand why the Sox are happy to see me on the disabled list. I don't give up walks. Home runs are much better. I really shouldn't have gotten this labotomy should I have?"
Still there are some highlights like Tim Wakefield being the oldest and nicest player still playing in baseball history. He may not get his wins but he's too much of a class act to feel anything but great.
"Now how in @#@) hell is that something to @#@) celebrate when I won't $(@# get the career wins I wanted and when I do $#@$# play well this teams #$)# it up for #$# me. F-k you Derive."
When we all get old Tim. Still the Sox are on the road and hoping for a losing victory. All I can say is that I'm glad I have a subscription to a mail order beer company. I'm going to need it.
Joe Derive.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
I Throw Strikes
Hi, I'm Joe Derive and I'm talking Dan Wheeler today. Granted, to say the Sox are dying out there is an understatement but we do see some signs of hope. For instance, I'm still bugged why Tito Francona isn't petitioning Major League Baseball to play the California Angels exclusively in 2012. OK, I'm kidding.
Today though, I want to talk about Dan Wheeler. Dan Wheeler cost the Sox three million dollars which isn't so bad. After all, Dan Wheeler throws strikes. How do I know that Dan Wheeler throws strikes? Well, that's because that's all he ever says!
“That’s what I do, I throw strikes. "
That seems OK for the Red Sox because pitching coach Curt Young seems also to be taken in by this tag line:
"I like what he's doing because he's throwing strikes. "
You have to wonder where the education system in the United States went wrong. So I go out to Dan and ask him why he thinks he struggles so badly.
"I feel confident where I’m at,’’ he said. “The numbers don’t look good, but I throw strikes. There’s nothing as far as my health and did I mention throw strikes.’’
On Monday he threw strikes and Vernon Wells hit a two run homer.
"I threw strikes. Sometimes when you throw strikes they hit home runs. I've been thinking of throwing balls but then they get walks. You don't want walks. Home runs are much better. "
Then I asked Tito Francona, the spokesman for those with an IQ and he said:
"He eats up innings."
Well, I guess if you're going to pay three million dollars for a man you have to find something positive to say about it.
"Hey, don't forget I throw strikes."
Don't worry Dan, nobody will!
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Joe Derive and the Umpire quiz
Hi,
I'm Joe Derive and I'm glad to be here in Baltimore -- well not really -- but anyway, recently a major testing firm setup a competency test for umpires to ensure the highest quality candidates. Here are SOME the results. Feel free to take the test yourself.
1) A year is:
(a) The time the sun goes around the earth
(b) The time the earth goes around the sun
(c) None of the above.
(d) It's against my religion.
97% selected (d). Wow, seriously. Well OK.
2) Interest means:
(a) How fascinating a subject is
(b) Money earned on an investment
(c) Gwenth Paltro
(d) None of the above
94% chose (a). A fascinating subject? Man I want to be your investment banker that's all I can say!
3) Fatty foods can cause:
(a) Heart attacks
(b) A full and happy stomach
(c) A twinkie binge
(d) psychic powers
Most everyone chose b or c. Wish I had stock in McDonalds right now.
4) Thunder is caused by
(a) Thor the God of Thunder
(b) The sonic boom of lightening ( <- pick this one)
(c) Mysterious energy from UFO's
(d) Hulk smash
I never knew the God of Thunder caused lightening but guys -- they even told you the right answer. They said pick this one. Why? Why did 100% of you choose (a). It's insane.
5) Steroid means:
(a) synthetic hormone designed to enhance the body with serious side effects
(b) A country in Africa
(c) A planet orbiting earth
(d) None of the above
And you wonder why the umpires can't find the strike zone don't you? You wonder why they make the wrong call so many times. You wonder why they look clueless. I mean, a planet orbiting earth? A country in Africa? None of the above? AHHHHH
6) 6 * 3
(a) 9
(b) 18 (<- pick this one...really)
(c) 23
(d) 7
(e) none of the above
(f) I'm an umpire, this is too hard for me
Umpires, at least try! How is 6 * 3 TOO HARD! Come on, it's 18. Eighteen is NOT hard to calculate. It's arithmetic. I'm having chest pains now. I mean you all picked (f).
7) Beavis and Butthead:
(a) remind me of myself
(b) Is a show on cable created by former blues musician Mike Judd
(c) Is what happens if I don't change my underwear
(d) I don't know
Wow, everyone got this right. Great. While the answer is (b) the firm also accepted (a). Good job guys for picking (a)...I guess.
8) Eating too much will:
(a) Make me overweight
(b) Make me happy
(c) Turn me into a martian
(d) I should chose (a) as the right answer since that is the right answer to PICK IT!!!!
Folks, read the question. Eating too much will NOT make you happy. It will make you very fat. Got it! The answer is (a) and how could 25% of you chose (d). I mean you can't be that insane...can you!
I'm Joe Derive and I am SO out of here.
I'm Joe Derive and I'm glad to be here in Baltimore -- well not really -- but anyway, recently a major testing firm setup a competency test for umpires to ensure the highest quality candidates. Here are SOME the results. Feel free to take the test yourself.
1) A year is:
(a) The time the sun goes around the earth
(b) The time the earth goes around the sun
(c) None of the above.
(d) It's against my religion.
97% selected (d). Wow, seriously. Well OK.
2) Interest means:
(a) How fascinating a subject is
(b) Money earned on an investment
(c) Gwenth Paltro
(d) None of the above
94% chose (a). A fascinating subject? Man I want to be your investment banker that's all I can say!
3) Fatty foods can cause:
(a) Heart attacks
(b) A full and happy stomach
(c) A twinkie binge
(d) psychic powers
Most everyone chose b or c. Wish I had stock in McDonalds right now.
4) Thunder is caused by
(a) Thor the God of Thunder
(b) The sonic boom of lightening ( <- pick this one)
(c) Mysterious energy from UFO's
(d) Hulk smash
I never knew the God of Thunder caused lightening but guys -- they even told you the right answer. They said pick this one. Why? Why did 100% of you choose (a). It's insane.
5) Steroid means:
(a) synthetic hormone designed to enhance the body with serious side effects
(b) A country in Africa
(c) A planet orbiting earth
(d) None of the above
And you wonder why the umpires can't find the strike zone don't you? You wonder why they make the wrong call so many times. You wonder why they look clueless. I mean, a planet orbiting earth? A country in Africa? None of the above? AHHHHH
6) 6 * 3
(a) 9
(b) 18 (<- pick this one...really)
(c) 23
(d) 7
(e) none of the above
(f) I'm an umpire, this is too hard for me
Umpires, at least try! How is 6 * 3 TOO HARD! Come on, it's 18. Eighteen is NOT hard to calculate. It's arithmetic. I'm having chest pains now. I mean you all picked (f).
7) Beavis and Butthead:
(a) remind me of myself
(b) Is a show on cable created by former blues musician Mike Judd
(c) Is what happens if I don't change my underwear
(d) I don't know
Wow, everyone got this right. Great. While the answer is (b) the firm also accepted (a). Good job guys for picking (a)...I guess.
8) Eating too much will:
(a) Make me overweight
(b) Make me happy
(c) Turn me into a martian
(d) I should chose (a) as the right answer since that is the right answer to PICK IT!!!!
Folks, read the question. Eating too much will NOT make you happy. It will make you very fat. Got it! The answer is (a) and how could 25% of you chose (d). I mean you can't be that insane...can you!
I'm Joe Derive and I am SO out of here.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Clay's Day
Hello, I'm Clay Buckholtz and this is my day. You see, I'm a good pitcher but I have a serious problem with reading social situations, but don't believe me, just listen to my story.
Today I was asked to give away Boston Red Sox tickets at a local bank. It seemed simple enough. The meeting with John Henry went well.
"Now remember Clay, don't come back until you give away fifteen tickets! If you don't, you're fired!"
I was so excited and I thought it was an easy day but they put me in the loans department of the bank and I sort of didn't handle that well. I was just trying to add a little humor.
"Are you Clay Buckholtz?"
"Yes, I'm giving away free tickets to the Red Sox. I mean that's better than a loan denial isn't it?"
OK, that was just one bad attempt.
"Are you Clay Buckholtz?"
"Ya and I'm giving away Red Sox tickets which is great because this bank never gives any loans out. "
For some reason the bank said they didn't have any more time for me to give away tickets...but I still had to give away tickets and then I thought of Arnie so I called him.
"Hey Arnie."
"Oh hey Clay, what can I do you for?"
"I was wondering if you'd accept some Red Sox tickets...free?"
A long pause followed. Arnie pauses a lot when I ask him stuff.
"Hey, I'd love em but I just can't make it. How about you call Garry, a friend of mine but whatever you do, don't praise John Farrell. he's kind of against him."
"OK, no problem."
I was really excited and I was glad that Garry was a John Farrell fan.
"Hello Garry?"
"Who is this?"
"Clay Buckholtz from the Boston Red Sox. Look, I was wondering if you'd like some tickets for the Blue Jays. I mean its like a reunion with John Farrell. Man what a great pitching coach he was hu? I heard you were a real fan of his. I mean I can tell you all about him and stuff..."
For some reason our conversation didn't last long after that. So I called Arnie back.
"Hey you didn't mention John Farrell did you?"
"Ah, no...of course...not. That would be...insane, so like you got anyone else?"
"Sure, Greg. Call him and if you know something about Rome, he loves that stuff!"
So I called Greg and gave myself a cram course on Rome.
"Hey Greg!"
"Hey who is this!"
"Clay Buckholtz of the Red Sox."
"Great."
"I hear you know about Rome and I'm an expert."
That was probably not a good thing to say.
"Ya I know some. What period do you study?"
"Ah, the Rome...period actually."
Oh boy I was starting to panic here.
"I know but Empire, Republic, Eastern, you know."
I should have shut up at this point but I didn't. I don't know why. It's just me.
"Ah, all of the...above...especially ah...the time of ah...George Washington, stuff...."
We didn't talk much after that. I realized I needed a place that didn't exactly know what was going on in my head. I had the perfect idea!
"Hey everyone, I'm here to give out Red Sox tickets. Red Sox tickets just raise your arm up...or toe or something."
That didn't go well and it was such a great idea. I guess the intensive care patients of a hospital might not be the best place to offer tickets.
So anyway, John Henry calls me on the phone tearing into me. I decided that desperate times called for desperate actions and I was at a hospital anyway.
"OK, you want one, great. "
"I have...ah..two left...oh you...great"
Within fifteen minutes I had unloaded all fifteen tickets, like one a minute. Who says Clay doesn't rock!
"Sir, the morgue is closing now...and you realize you're talking to dead people right?"
"Oh ya, sure...ah...like some Red Sox tickets."
So anyway, that's how I got rid of fifteen Red Sox tickets. Great hu.
Today I was asked to give away Boston Red Sox tickets at a local bank. It seemed simple enough. The meeting with John Henry went well.
"Now remember Clay, don't come back until you give away fifteen tickets! If you don't, you're fired!"
I was so excited and I thought it was an easy day but they put me in the loans department of the bank and I sort of didn't handle that well. I was just trying to add a little humor.
"Are you Clay Buckholtz?"
"Yes, I'm giving away free tickets to the Red Sox. I mean that's better than a loan denial isn't it?"
OK, that was just one bad attempt.
"Are you Clay Buckholtz?"
"Ya and I'm giving away Red Sox tickets which is great because this bank never gives any loans out. "
For some reason the bank said they didn't have any more time for me to give away tickets...but I still had to give away tickets and then I thought of Arnie so I called him.
"Hey Arnie."
"Oh hey Clay, what can I do you for?"
"I was wondering if you'd accept some Red Sox tickets...free?"
A long pause followed. Arnie pauses a lot when I ask him stuff.
"Hey, I'd love em but I just can't make it. How about you call Garry, a friend of mine but whatever you do, don't praise John Farrell. he's kind of against him."
"OK, no problem."
I was really excited and I was glad that Garry was a John Farrell fan.
"Hello Garry?"
"Who is this?"
"Clay Buckholtz from the Boston Red Sox. Look, I was wondering if you'd like some tickets for the Blue Jays. I mean its like a reunion with John Farrell. Man what a great pitching coach he was hu? I heard you were a real fan of his. I mean I can tell you all about him and stuff..."
For some reason our conversation didn't last long after that. So I called Arnie back.
"Hey you didn't mention John Farrell did you?"
"Ah, no...of course...not. That would be...insane, so like you got anyone else?"
"Sure, Greg. Call him and if you know something about Rome, he loves that stuff!"
So I called Greg and gave myself a cram course on Rome.
"Hey Greg!"
"Hey who is this!"
"Clay Buckholtz of the Red Sox."
"Great."
"I hear you know about Rome and I'm an expert."
That was probably not a good thing to say.
"Ya I know some. What period do you study?"
"Ah, the Rome...period actually."
Oh boy I was starting to panic here.
"I know but Empire, Republic, Eastern, you know."
I should have shut up at this point but I didn't. I don't know why. It's just me.
"Ah, all of the...above...especially ah...the time of ah...George Washington, stuff...."
We didn't talk much after that. I realized I needed a place that didn't exactly know what was going on in my head. I had the perfect idea!
"Hey everyone, I'm here to give out Red Sox tickets. Red Sox tickets just raise your arm up...or toe or something."
That didn't go well and it was such a great idea. I guess the intensive care patients of a hospital might not be the best place to offer tickets.
So anyway, John Henry calls me on the phone tearing into me. I decided that desperate times called for desperate actions and I was at a hospital anyway.
"OK, you want one, great. "
"I have...ah..two left...oh you...great"
Within fifteen minutes I had unloaded all fifteen tickets, like one a minute. Who says Clay doesn't rock!
"Sir, the morgue is closing now...and you realize you're talking to dead people right?"
"Oh ya, sure...ah...like some Red Sox tickets."
So anyway, that's how I got rid of fifteen Red Sox tickets. Great hu.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Joe Derive at Arnies
"Hi, I'm Joe Derive. I'm at Arnie's restaurant in Colorado...oh Arnie!"
A clang of dishes and chit chat lingered in the background. Joe seemed relaxed and contemplative despite the stains of sauces and cheese surrounding his shirt.
"Ya, "said Arnie the host and best cook ever.
"Need another Arnie special. "
"Ya mean the two topping pizza, four cheese burgers and fifteen orders of fries?"
Arnie wrote down the order for the fifth time today giving Joe a strange look that almost questioned how his stomach could hold so much food.
" You got it! "
"Man, surprised you're not dead yet...Lugo, hands above the table this is a family restaurant. "said Arnie.
Arnie starred at Lugo until he shamefully moved his hands and rested them on the tablecloth.
" Anyway, I'm here with..."
Arnie grunted and reached over to pull Lugo's hands above the table.
"Stop consulting the professor underneath the table, "snapped Arnie. "I'll be back. "
Joe watched Arnie move away but then turn back.
"Drew, plastic spoons only. You know how you almost stabbed somebody in the face with that plastic knife of yours. "
"That was you wasn't it?"
"Oh ya, I forgot about that wound. "said Arnie rubbing his left cheek.
"Ow, my eyebrow hurts. Can you fix it Arnie?"
Arnie grabbed his forehead and proceeded into the kitchen. There were a few stares from the customers but Joe wondered if it was Zazu or his own ability to consume five Arnie dishes in one afternoon.
"Hey, I hate the Red Sox and the Dodgers and the Tigers and the Rays, "said Zazu, known as Manny Ramirez who was still sticking needles in his arms.
"Will you stop giving yourself steroids, its how you got fired in the first place!"
"Anyway, "said Joe Derive, "I'm here with Julio Lugo and Zazu Ramirez and J.D. Drew and we partake in baseball exchange and ask the fatal question -- what happened to the Red Sox. "
"Here's your order, "said Arnie putting down the dishes on the table. Lugo once again slid his hands under the table before Arnie grabbed them and placed them on the table.
"Zazu, put the needles away."
"Hey, Zazu's involved in future establishments of film production to express the more sensitive side of him."
Arnie shook his head and cleaned up the dirty dishes.
"I'll look for you on PainPerView.com, "said Arnie.
"Hey, how'd you know?"
Arnie gave a small laugh and said, "I honestly made it up but with you Zazu, I'm not surprised. " Zazu watched Arnie roll away and move into the kitchen laughing all the harder.
"Anyway, what's with the Red Sox Lugo?"
"I think they're losing a lot. If they win a lot then they won't lose a lot but that's just a thought. "
"Mr Zazu, can you sign my autograph, "said a small boy of about eight standing with his father.
"Sure, what do I say?"
"Steroids make Zazu a loser would work. "
Zazu handed the kid back the notebook and turned away. Joe Derive almost choked on his food giving out a loud laugh.
"Hey, are you Julio Lugo?"
Lugo gave out a gleeful smile and said, "you bet."
'How's that free agent thing working out for you?"
Lugo moved his hands under the table.
"Ah, not good. "
"Sorry, my dad told me it takes a lot of guts to go out there and play with your talent. I can imagine how tough that is."
'Nice kid, "said Lugo gritting his teeth. "
"Ow, my arm, "said J.D. Drew missing with his spoon in attempting to eat instead striking his arm with his spoon.
"Anyway, thanks kid...see ya later. "
Joe then leaned towards the camera.
"Anyway, with the Sox at 2 and 9, many are wondering how the Sox can come back. J.D. what do you think?"
"I gotta eat. I've tried for half an hour and I still can't scoop the food and I'm all bruised. I miss straws but I choke on them when I use them and I tried finger food but..."
Joe sighed and said, "it's OK Drew. We got a nurse for you."
Joe turned towards the camera.
"Anyway..."
"LUGO."
Arnie stormed up to him and said, "First you burn down the block with your FlameThrower restaurant and then you...Lugo, control yourself OK. "
Lugo nodded and started eating his food.
"OK, well maybe next time we'll get going and get something done. It's been great folks. "
A clang of dishes and chit chat lingered in the background. Joe seemed relaxed and contemplative despite the stains of sauces and cheese surrounding his shirt.
"Ya, "said Arnie the host and best cook ever.
"Need another Arnie special. "
"Ya mean the two topping pizza, four cheese burgers and fifteen orders of fries?"
Arnie wrote down the order for the fifth time today giving Joe a strange look that almost questioned how his stomach could hold so much food.
" You got it! "
"Man, surprised you're not dead yet...Lugo, hands above the table this is a family restaurant. "said Arnie.
Arnie starred at Lugo until he shamefully moved his hands and rested them on the tablecloth.
" Anyway, I'm here with..."
Arnie grunted and reached over to pull Lugo's hands above the table.
"Stop consulting the professor underneath the table, "snapped Arnie. "I'll be back. "
Joe watched Arnie move away but then turn back.
"Drew, plastic spoons only. You know how you almost stabbed somebody in the face with that plastic knife of yours. "
"That was you wasn't it?"
"Oh ya, I forgot about that wound. "said Arnie rubbing his left cheek.
"Ow, my eyebrow hurts. Can you fix it Arnie?"
Arnie grabbed his forehead and proceeded into the kitchen. There were a few stares from the customers but Joe wondered if it was Zazu or his own ability to consume five Arnie dishes in one afternoon.
"Hey, I hate the Red Sox and the Dodgers and the Tigers and the Rays, "said Zazu, known as Manny Ramirez who was still sticking needles in his arms.
"Will you stop giving yourself steroids, its how you got fired in the first place!"
"Anyway, "said Joe Derive, "I'm here with Julio Lugo and Zazu Ramirez and J.D. Drew and we partake in baseball exchange and ask the fatal question -- what happened to the Red Sox. "
"Here's your order, "said Arnie putting down the dishes on the table. Lugo once again slid his hands under the table before Arnie grabbed them and placed them on the table.
"Zazu, put the needles away."
"Hey, Zazu's involved in future establishments of film production to express the more sensitive side of him."
Arnie shook his head and cleaned up the dirty dishes.
"I'll look for you on PainPerView.com, "said Arnie.
"Hey, how'd you know?"
Arnie gave a small laugh and said, "I honestly made it up but with you Zazu, I'm not surprised. " Zazu watched Arnie roll away and move into the kitchen laughing all the harder.
"Anyway, what's with the Red Sox Lugo?"
"I think they're losing a lot. If they win a lot then they won't lose a lot but that's just a thought. "
"Mr Zazu, can you sign my autograph, "said a small boy of about eight standing with his father.
"Sure, what do I say?"
"Steroids make Zazu a loser would work. "
Zazu handed the kid back the notebook and turned away. Joe Derive almost choked on his food giving out a loud laugh.
"Hey, are you Julio Lugo?"
Lugo gave out a gleeful smile and said, "you bet."
'How's that free agent thing working out for you?"
Lugo moved his hands under the table.
"Ah, not good. "
"Sorry, my dad told me it takes a lot of guts to go out there and play with your talent. I can imagine how tough that is."
'Nice kid, "said Lugo gritting his teeth. "
"Ow, my arm, "said J.D. Drew missing with his spoon in attempting to eat instead striking his arm with his spoon.
"Anyway, thanks kid...see ya later. "
Joe then leaned towards the camera.
"Anyway, with the Sox at 2 and 9, many are wondering how the Sox can come back. J.D. what do you think?"
"I gotta eat. I've tried for half an hour and I still can't scoop the food and I'm all bruised. I miss straws but I choke on them when I use them and I tried finger food but..."
Joe sighed and said, "it's OK Drew. We got a nurse for you."
Joe turned towards the camera.
"Anyway..."
"LUGO."
Arnie stormed up to him and said, "First you burn down the block with your FlameThrower restaurant and then you...Lugo, control yourself OK. "
Lugo nodded and started eating his food.
"OK, well maybe next time we'll get going and get something done. It's been great folks. "
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