Tuesday, February 24, 2009

They Will Beat Their Bats Into Pool Cues... Their Mitts Into Chalk Squares

Via The Bleacher Report:

"The Yankees start playing games on Wednesday so manager Joe Girardi took advantage of one of the few days they have without obligations to take his team out for a relationship building exercise: a pool tournament. 'I’ve never been on a team that’s done something like this before, but I often wondered why,' Girardi said. 'There’s a lot of other sports that do these types of things. We can get away from the park and enjoy each other off the field and get to know each other.'"

A spontaneous trip to the local billiards hall? How exactly does something like this go down? If it were a music video (in Rickey's mind, every awkward situation should be remixed into a hilarious YouTube music video) Joe Girardi would buoyantly stroll into the locker room, his pants hiked up to his sternum in customary Girardi fashion. "Hey fellas, let's shoot some pool!" would erupt from the normally stoic Yankee skipper's mouth. At which point, classic 80's pop hit "Walkin on Sunshine" by Katrina and the Waves suddenly starts playing and the entire team rushes out to the parking lot and jubilantly piles into their cherry red jalopies.

The pool hall scene is much like you'd expect: Derek Jeter wants to know if anybody's got change for the jukebox so he can rock out to "Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go" by Wham! just one more time, Hideki Matsui won't stop creepily staring at the ladies across the room, Mark Teixiera belligerently accuses a group of Puerto Ricans of stealing his wallet and starts saying really really racist things, Johnny Damon tries unsuccessfully to get his teammates to sing "You've Lost that Lovin Feeling" to woo the cute female bartender, and Alex Rodriguez spends the entire two hours crying and masturbating angrily in the men's bathroom. You know, pretty much boilerplate Yankee stuff.

(Consider this whimsical missive Rickey's unofficial "help wanted" ad for a graphics/video editor to help bring creations like this to life for RwR. The pay is... well, there's no pay, but the position will undoubtedly earn you countless accolades and a myriad of shiny trinkets to place upon your mantle. Also, you get the privilege of receiving late night angry phone calls from Rickey demanding you make your deadline. How could you possibly go wrong?)

Moving on to a different section of Florida... Did you know that the Mets participate in this Spring Training thing too, just like the Yankees do? True story! Were you aware that we've got a stadium down there and a handful of fans who show up to watch as the Mets quietly prepare for the 2009 Baseball Season? Unbelievable, yet entirely factual!

Now down to the important stuff. Yes, shoring up the bullpen was sorely needed, but how difficult is it for the Mets to add a few righty bats to the lineup? Possibly even one that can play second base and doesn't weigh 380 pounds? Too many lefties do not a solid lineup make. For those who haven't been following the baseball season in it's embryonic stage, here's what the Mets starting lineup is shaping up to look like:

1) Luis Tittyfucking Castillo (why god, why?) - Switch
2) Moleman - Switch
3) Rickey II: Dominican Boogaloo - Switch
4) Golden Boy - Righty
5) Cerrano the Allstate Spokesman - Lefty
6) Churchy Le Pew - Lefty
7) Daniel O' Murphy, the Demon Leprechaun of 'O Connell Street - Lefty

Zounds, that's too many goddamned lefties in the lineup! You think that the notion of getting shut out by Jamie Moyer five times in 2009 appeals to Rickey? Yes, Rickey knows that examples of creative and successful southpaws abound, such as Leonardo da Vinci, Michelangelo, and scores of U.S. Presidents, but there are more ominous ones too, like Jack the Ripper, the Boston Strangler, and Sarah Jessica Parker. This all warrants mention.

And what of all this talk of Reyes batting second behind Castillo? Rickey's theory is that it's some sort of cruel psychological experiment on Jerry Manuel's part. The man is fucking with us. He's got to be. Even if If Castillo somehow manages to hit over .300 with a near .400 obp, (i.e., if JFK diverts the flight paths for all airborne pigs to fly directly over Citi Field) then Reyes should still bat first, and Castillo second. Or never. That works too. Does Manuel not remember what Shea sounded like when Reyes got a leadoff hit to kick off a game?

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Monday, February 23, 2009

But Does He Get Unlimited Texting?

Not content with discussing our nation's steady regression into a predominantly bartering society, Rickey has opted to delve into something far more pressing: President Barack Obama's BlackBerry useage. If the media deems it newsworthy that the leader of the Free World has opted to use a device that the majority of corporations have already adopted four years ago, then we figure we can take the hilarity to new and exciting levels....

POTUS: Yo, Hilzoy! What's shakin?

EVERGREEN: (it's her codename, we looked it up) I'M IN UR ASIA, STEALIN UR THUNDA!

POTUS: LMFAO! Ahhhhh, good stuff. So ur wrapping things up over there? Makin us look good?

EVERGREEN: Yeah, I think I can get China to spot us a few xtra tril. 2.5 FTW! Didn't u read mah twitter?

POTUS: Meh, I don't have time for that. Keep the twittering to a few words or a sentence at most--it's all I have time for in between breakfast and teh gym.

EVERGREEN: R people back home still flipping out about me not ragging on China for their human rights problems?

POTUS: Nah, it's all good, I explained it to 'em in mah weekly JibJab address to teh nation.


POTUS: Everything OK?

EVERGREEN: Yeah, stupid Bill keeps tagging me in that "25 Random Things" note on Facebook. Shouldn't he know all this stuff by now? FAIL spouse knows only failure. ...BTW, how r things going stateside?

POTUS: Pretty great--we should have Citibank and Bank of America nationalized by teh end of teh week. These n00bs in Congress can't stop me. They can only hope to contain me.

EVERGREEN: O RLY? You sure that turning everybody's local banks into DMV offices is a good idea?

POTUS: Nationalized Banks > Zombie Banks, IMHO.

EVERGREEN: And if that doesn't work?

POTUS: I'll edit all the banks' wikipedia pages to make them appear profitable. Instant pwnage.

EVERGREEN: ROTFL, we must not allow our irrational exuberance to govern our actions! \Greenspann'd


EVERGREEN: All your vote are belong to us!


EVERGREEN: So has the the GOP been gettin u down?

POTUS: Kinda, but I've been distracting them by signing them up for emails offering che@p v1agr@.



EVERGREEN: HRWM2RTIOBTSPVMS = Harry Reid Wants Me 2 Research The Idea of Bringing These Schoolgirl Panties Vending Machines Stateside.

POTUS: GTFO, you use that phrase a lot?

EVERGREEN: Fifth time today. Dude won't leave me alone.

POTUS: What do these machines look like?

EVERGREEN: I posted a pic of one to my Flickr album.



POTUS: I'll check it out when I figure out how to get around the filters here at work. Text me when u land in D.C., K?

EVERGREEN: Yep. Hopefully my n00b pilot won't try another corkscrew landing... TTYL.


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Wednesday, February 18, 2009

All Quiet on the Blogging Front

Yes, we know, it has been uncharacteristically silent around here recently. It's a mixture of busyness and a flat out inability to sit down and churn out a few semi-coherent paragraphs. It's almost as if lecherous gnomes came in the night and absconded with the portion of Rickey's brain that governs his desire to blog (we believe the blogerella oblongata is the medical term for it). Suffice to say, we are also aware of the cessation of posts here at RwR, and no, your lamentations on the matter have not fallen on deaf ears.

We're not entirely sure what our visitors come here expecting to read, but presumably it has a lot to do with our liberal use of profanity in response to a wide array of topics. Funny thing is, there's no shortage of material to work with these days. And yet, Rickey has remained largely mute on our worsening economic situation. Politics haven't piqued Rickey's interest. Rickey held his tongue as A-Rod had his very own Charles Van Doren moment yesterday in front of the media (the inference being that he shouldn't be commended for telling the truth). Rickey chose to observe a moment of silence as the last concrete pieces of Shea Stadium were torn down. Rickey attempted to pen a "Rickey Recommends" post, but abruptly halted after he was unable to produce any substantial recommendations other than using your left hand to shake hands with people (all the cool kids are doing it). Yes friend, not even an insane story about a sociopathic chimpanzee running amok in Fairfield, CT could budge Rickey from this brutal bout of blogger's block. Times are indeed tough when bankruptcy strikes one's very imagination.

So having pulled the curtain back on the inner machinations of this blog and openly professed a drought of inspiration, we turn to you, dear reader, for inspiration. What tickles your fancy? What would you like to read about? Rickey's open to any ideas you'd be willing to offer. All suggestions are welcome, because at any given moment, we're only a few mouse clicks away from turning this family friendly blog into a hardcore pornographic pay site and laughing all the way to the bank. Half our Google hits already come from people searching for bizarre sexual predilections, so it's a safe assumption that we've already got a preinstalled base for that sort of thing.

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Friday, February 13, 2009

On Evil

Evil people walk amongst us. And there's a certain pecking order to them. Somewhere in between your low level evildoers like the debt consolidators who cold call you at dinner time and your more high ranking ones such as Mahmoud Ahmadinejad falls the ultimate evildoer: the late night vandal. You see, Rickey woke this morning to a horrific sight: the left side of his car entirely covered in egg shells and hardened yellow egg gunk. Naturally, calamity promptly ensued in the Henderson household. This is not the sort of thing that Rickey is adequately prepared to handle prior to his customary morning cup of coffee.

Rickey's not entirely sure what he might have done to draw the wrath of the criminal network of young hooligans that menace the darkened streets of Tarrytown, New York, so we're assuming it was a purely random act of vandalism. Here's how Rickey assumes this crime played out: a group of Dickensian ragamuffins, fresh off their shift at the local meat packing plant, targeted Rickey's automobile as a means of distracting themselves from their cripplingly painful arthritic stricken joints due to years of industrial labor. The smallest of the bunch perched himself in a tree, serving as a lookout (in situations like this, there's always a lookout). And then the rapscallions joyously pummeled Rickey's car with an entire carton full of chemically laced unfertilized chicken eggs (presumably the slave wages paid at the local meat packing plant didn't allow the bastards buy the free range organic variety). Then they vanished into the dark night to play some rousing games of Nine Men Morris and Blind Man's Bluff in an effort to forget their painful arthritis and coal lined lungs.

Now if this were an episode of "24," Rickey would've had Chloe pull the feeds from all the surveillance cameras from the area, digitally enhance the images to track down the identities of these miscreants, and Rickey would proceed to interrogate them Jack Bauer style. Angry whispering would give way to outright yelling. A hacksaw would be utilized at some point. The Geneva Conventions would be gleefully shirked. Sadly (or luckily, in Ms. Henderson and Rickey's lawyer's case) no such surveillance cameras exist, and a thorough car wash hopefully will remove all the offending egg gunk, thereby effectively resolving the situation. Sweet sweet vengeance upon these anonymous vandals will have to wait for another day. Until that day, Rickey will have to make do with watching this over and over:

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Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Rickey's Film Corral: Rounding up Movies You Were too Damned Lazy to See

Rickey's periodic analysis of the various cinematic offerings currently showing at a a movie theater near you. Up this week are two purported Oscar contenders.

Gran Torino. This brooding movie dares to pose the question what happens to a guy like Dirty Harry when he retires? Does he get along with the ethnic neighbors? Does he mellow out? Does his unfathomably deep thirst for vengeance subside? The answer to all of the above is a resounding no. Indeed, "Gran Torino" is Eastwood's latest attempt to atone for his earlier cinematic roles--a mournful analysis of an angry old man haunted by his violent past. And it's pretty decent, even if a bit on the formulaic side. Believe it or not, after a little while, you'll grow tired of watching a leering Clint Eastwood utter really really racist things. The middle section of the film is the most enjoyable, as Eastwood begrudgingly takes a young Asian boy under his wing and teaches him the ways of the world, in his own fashion. There's some genuinely touching stuff as the humanity gradually creeps back into Eastwood's character. Then, there's a "shit just got real" moment, setting up the obligatory climactic showdown. It's essentially "High Noon" set in Highland Park, Michigan. Unsurprisingly, the star of the movie is Clint Eastwood. Even at the age of 78, he makes phrase like "get off my lawn" sound downright menacing. Let's see a contemporary action hero like Schwarzenegger try to pull that off when he hits that age. Does Rickey recommend you see this? Sure, why not. It's an intimate character study featuring great writing and acting. At the very least, it's better than "Space Cowboys."

Slumdog Millionaire. Yeah, Rickey was probably the last person in the world who hadn't yet seen this. Maybe somebody can help Rickey out, but what's all the hubbub about here? It's "Oliver" set in India, featuring a visual bombardment of whimsical non sequitirs. So what? It's frenetic and visually exhilarating, but it's also empty fluff and hardly an Oscar contender. The central conceit of the film involving the kid's answers to the game show questions relating to one of his hard life lessons was far too cutesy for Rickey's liking. And how exactly does a film featuring electro torture, waterboarding, child prostitution, a corrupt cop who resembles an Indian version of Jeff Goldblum, and a young boy covered head to toe in feces qualify as the feel good movie of the year? It's official: 2008 has been a terrible year for movies if something like "Slumdog Millionaire" is being seriously considered for best picture.

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Thursday, February 5, 2009

Yet Another Reason to be Concerned About Global Warming

Via USA Today, we are brought word of a terrifying beastie that was slithering about the planet 58 million years ago: the titanboa, which we're assuming is Latin for "holy fucking shit, run away from that gigantic snake!" A relative of the modern day anaconda, this massive bastard grew to be the length of a city bus. It's trunk would have reached a person's hips. It ate alligators. Whole. Somebody is probably scripting a crummy SciFi Channel movie about it at this very moment (right after "Wyvern" and "Raptor"!). Being a snake, it thrived in the warm prehistoric climate, so with our current climate change trend, it's entirely plausible that this limbless reptilian nightmare could make a comeback. No word yet from scientists on the possibility of genetically engineering some sort of mega-mongoose to combat this terrifying menace.

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Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Your Weekly (but not every week) Mets Update

Given that we're only a scant nine days away from pitchers and catchers reporting in, a baseball related post of some sort seems timely, if not downright obligatory. Much has been made of late over the possibility of Citibank pulling their advertising dollars out of the Mets new stadium and leaving them financially adrift in a house with no name. And while we Mets fans have become all too familiar with catastrophic last minute collapses, we'd rather not see this sort of drama play out in our snazzy new ballpark. So allow Rickey to make a few recommendations to remedy the situation.

First off, what was wrong with carrying over the name of the last stadium? Bill Shea was the driving force behind bringing National League Baseball back to New York and Rickey sees no reason why the new stadium cannot bear his name. And they can always jazz it up a bit by calling it "New Shea" or "Shea II: Electric Boogaloo" if they want. Also, "Apple Stadium" has kind of a nice ring to it (your move, Steve Jobs). The Mets could simply name it "Willets Point Discount Mufflers Field" and call it a day. Or go for the easiest solution: change the second 'i' in Citi Field to a 'y' and stick with it until the Mets front office attracts a willing sponsor to replace Citibank. Bam, catastrophe averted.

What really grinds Rickey's gears more than anything else is the self righteous outrage over all this. We're more than a little disgusted by the public outcry over taxpayers getting ripped off by the Mets. Uh, hello? Welcome to the party, good townspeople. Kindly put down your pitchforks and torches. Pull up a chair. See, Rickey's been living with this shit for a few years now, and let him tell you, the sensation of being extorted by the Mets can be unpleasant at first, but over the years, you'll learn to live with it, much like gonorrhea. We just gave a pitcher with a 10-7 record, a 4.22 ERA, and 105 walks in 194 innings a three year 36 million dollar contract. Poor investments are in our blood (our owner was just swindled in a Ponzi scheme for christsakes...)

In all seriousness, Rickey despises all the whining from the media, the public, and the politicians about this alleged misappropriation of taxpayer funds. The outcry that Citibank be forbidden from advertising until they return to profitability is bogus. We're not legal experts or anything, but we're guessing that that Citibank and the Mets signed some sort of contract before the financial meltdown started. And unless there's a reasonable escape clause that makes sound business sense for both parties, the fact that joe six-pack and all these posturing politicians want them to break their contract is nothing less than a middling sideshow. Because call us nuts, but if there is one thing the government should be concerned about doing, it's enforcing lawful contracts.

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