Conine the Librarian

Two scrubs for a RH bat and 1B back up.

WHATEVER, GREAT, LESS DAVID NEWHAN AND MORE EXCUSES TO WATCH THIS AWESOME CLIP.

Pay zat man heez meeonee

The state of Minnesoate has more important thing to spend their money on than a new stadium for billionaire Twins owner Abe Pohlad, so Johan Santana is probably not going to find his big pay in the land of a thousand lakes. That's fine, the Wilpons are also rich; so make like Teddy KGB tell Gramma to break off a fat wad for the man and dress him up in blue and orange.


Here is how Johan projects:

Year ERA BB9 K9 HR9

2007 2.94 1.9 8.4 0.9

2008 3.24 2 8.3 0.9

2009 3.28 2 8.3 0.9

2010 3.26 1.9 7.3 0.9

2011 3.26 1.9 7 0.9

Maybe you try and trade Pelfrey and Milledge for him this winter for an extra year of Santana and a leg up on the following winter's bidding war but either way, Wilpon should get $125m ready to disperse over the next 5 years. or$140 or 7. Or maybe we do nothing like with stupid Barrell Zito and it all works but instead of just sucking ass like ugly Baryl Zito he just breaks his arm into pieces and never pitches again. Or maybe Santana signs with the Braves and then I break his arm and legs into pieces.

That is not a threat, that is a promise. I run a Bad Newz Kennels for Braves, where they are treated exactly like those dogs, which was despicable for the poor dogs but when you substitute Braves players it is actually commendable. So expect what you read about, except for the rape stand. I leave that part out.

Recap of My First Night Back in the US

Nothing like coming home after a 9 hour flight, to unpack and watch the Metsies. Oh fantastic, they're up 5 runs! Maybe I'll just slip into bed, after all there is a 6 hour time difference and I'm a little tired.

Wait a minute... I nodded off... wait a minute...what's the score say...? WHAT?!?! F YOU, HEILMAN?!!?

GO BEERS DIE LIVER - PART BLARG

After last night's buttcakery I could sure use a good weekend of Mets, beers, bros and more beers. Thankfully, the Nads hosts the Monstupulous Metsies for a weekend series, so we can erase last nights bullpen shit show from our memories, just as I try to erase the muddy bowl full of poop soup I created last night courtesy of a super-sized DQP meal from Micky D's. And what better way to erase shitty memories than with a cavalcade of frosty tall cold ones.?

None. There are none better ways.

So it's off to the fetid donut known as RFK, to pour overpriced fermented malt beverages down throat and heckle the fucking shit out of Ryan Church. Why Churchy? Well it was just a happy accident that he was playing the outfield nearest my seat when on a whim I first decided to subject him to a brutal verbal admonishment. Then I stumbled upon this fun factoid on the enternet.

Here is my favorite part:

"I said, like, Jewish people, they don't believe in Jesus. Does that mean
they're doomed? Jon nodded, like, that's what it meant. My ex-girlfriend! I was like, man, if they only knew. Other religions don't know any better. It's up to us to spread the word," Church said.

What a jackass!

Hah! That's you, Churchy, after I finish administering a severe tongue lashing, you brain-dead cock-ass!

And in honor of RFK's brosef John, here is an edumakashunal video on our favorite 21st century dead president.

Mets Pitching

Stupendous article on the mets pitching from the hardballtimes. Don't believe anything anyone says that contradicts it. That means Rocky Horror' Schoeneweis was a terrible signing, trading away Heath Bell was stupid, Glavine must retire next year and, most surprisingly, Guilleroids Mota is one of the best relievers we have. Anyone who says differently is an uneducated simpletons and I've no time to countenance their ignorant claims.

I've also no time for any more stupid bullshit about Rick Ankiel. Fuck him. Oh great, you used to pitch in the majors but then you blew it in the playoffs. Now you're attempting to be a two time loser by failing in the outfield too. Congratulations, loser. Does anyone care what Chuck Knoblach or Macky Sasser are doing these days? Next time a 28 year old Met prospect with a .25 BB/K ratio gets called up to replace a chin-pubed asshole doing a stint in rehab I'll be sure to go just as apeshit over it.

Look - Rick Ankiel needs a blow job bib because he LOVES giving BLOWJOBS.

MIBS! MIBS! UNACCEPTABLE!

Well that blew. But as that Kneechee guy said, "That which does not kill me, makes my seething hatred stronger."

So bring it on, fuckers. We still have 6 more opportunities to beat the hell out of the Braves, and we can still take the season series from them (2 sweeps? Why the fuck not?!?). This Ghost Rider guy may be a problem tho.

So dispite the results, it was a fun series to watch. Now fucking die, shitheads.

It was a success of magnitude proportions

I hate Larry Jones, the chunkheaded goobag who plays for the Braves. I haven't seen him play since back in 81 or 82 or whenever, because every game played after that has been dumb as hell. I figured out a foolproof way to get a free ticket into the stadium though, I thought of it a couple nights ago when I was looking for my car keys in the toilet. Here's what you do, you get a fake cast and put your arm in it to make it look like you're some pansy ass sissy who broke his arm in a slapfight with the black guy from Designing Women. Then you put a motorcycle helmet on and bring a copy of the local newspaper from a month ago. Walk up to the ticket counter and ask for a ticket to some game that was played a few weeks ago. They'll tell you that game is over, and then you say "but it says they're playing right now in the paper!" Then, when they lean forward to look at the paper, you grab them by the skull and beat their head against the counter until they die. Then you go watch the game and if it sucks then you hunt down the manager and tell him his wife sucks in bed.

Bienvenido Atlantardos

Hi guys - I hope you are basking in the unexpected glory of last night's win; sincerely I do. As I have mentioned previously, the more pumped up y'all (that colloquialism was for you!) get, the sweeter vengeance will taste.

And just as Superman needs Lex Luthor or Lobo needs Santa Claus, GMDB can't exist without you putrid barf bags to hate on. So while I despise the braves with ever scintilla of my being, as with any good rivalry, I admit, I will miss you once you are thoroughly vanquished from this earth.

So as not to be entirely heartless, I've found this link on pegging to prepare you for tonight and tomorrow night's brutal ass savaging you will assuredly receive from the 'Mutts' (good one!).

Hope it helps.

Fondly,
GMDB

Jim Norton is to Subway as GMDB is to the Braves

It's time to get your hate back on. The stupid stupid braves come to shea for another big series as the pennant race heats up. The braves futile pursuit recently became more laughable as they emptied their farm to get the guy who used to draw Ghost Rider to play first base. I guess anything is better than what they had before.

Personally, I applaud Schuerholz for this move. Because it is just going to make it that much sweeter when they don't make the playoffs. I will enjoy a braves failure only slightly less than a Mets victory.

Jim Norton detests Subway far less than I hate the Braves but his hatred is admirable nonetheless.

http://www.youtube.com/v/vbuek2KKsqY" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350">

this stupid fucking link doesnt want to be embedded so just click here, it is funny. fucking poo-tube.

this is a night for america

Washington F's the S out of bears

what does this have to do with the Mets? Not much. But the line 'he fucks the shit out of bears' could be used as inspiration for the Mets to fuck the shit out off the Cubs, this weekend's series.

Die baby bears!

Here's how I remeber SD2K7

Friday 7pm - Airport (DCA) with enough time for 1 beer.

• Flight delayed 30 minutes. Make that 2 beers.
• 1hr delay - 3 beers
• 2 hr delay - 5, no, 6 beers!

Friday 11:30pm - sitting on the tarmac waiting for my fucking delta shuttle to take off.

• After drinking at the Gordon Birsch Brewery Ariport Bar and Lounge I am convinced my first son's name should be Bierce. Like Pierce but sounds like Beers.
• The plane is in the air and I can finally play drunk Nintendo DS. Run you stupid Italian plumber, run!

Friday 1:30am - In Manhattan at Kahmel's apartment. Time for a quick drink at the bar then call it a night.

• Oh wait, New York has no last call.
• Booze in the city until 5am, including a night cap back at Kahmel's place.

Saturday 11:30am - check my messages which include a chafed Rory B Bellows informing me that I am assumed "passed out" and tickets for me will be left at will call.

• My trek to Shea begins - Kahmel becomes a casualty halfway to Grand Central.
• Burger King is out of burgers (seriously? Burger King? more like Burger Serf!), postponing my brunch.
• Ride the punctual 7-train full of McDonalds and still quite a bit off alcohol.

Saturday 1:10pm - Arrive at Shea in time to thwart Magadan's oh-so-funny bet with Rory.

• Immediately start sweating booze.
• Jeans were a terrible idea.
• We win. Washington sucks the dicks!

Saturday 4ish - Intermission at E-Lawn's (the electronic grass yard) apartment

• Rory forces beer on me as punishment for my tardiness.
• A nap would be spectacular, but there is no rest for the weary or hungover on Shea Day.

Saturday 7pm - Shea Day 2k7 in full Wreckx-N-Effect

• Tall cold ones and ice cream sundae. YUMMMMMM!
• I Enjoy the 11 year old kid sitting behind me explain to his mom that his booing of Mike Pelfrey is justified because Mike Pelfrey in fact 'sucks' and that Mike Pelfrey will never be a quality major league starter because Mike Pelfrey is a 'fucking piece of shit'. If GMDB ever needs an intern I'm calling this guy.
• We lose. We sucks the dicks!

Saturday 11:30pm - Uber trendy and intra-capitalized neighborhood TriBeCa

• Our crew meets up with the remants of a ravged party full of old friends far drunker than I.
• Consumed by jealousy and thirst, I vow to catch up by the end of the night.
• Success!

Sunday all day - Sunday Funday

• Breakfast burrito and mimosas at Blockheads. YUM YUM DIM SUM.
• More flight delays, more tall cold ones.

Monday 9:30am - back at the office.

• Death stops by and tells me he sees a lot off potential in my lifestyle. Death encourages me to keep up the good work and that he'll see me again soon.
• That condescending son of a bitch.

What a sweet weekend. And it only took me until Wednesday to feel like a human being again. Go beers, die liver!