I’ve been away for a few weeks so before I chime on the baseball pussies, what on earth was that hot dog fiasco a few weeks ago?

No cost cutting or scrimping here.

Takeru Kobayashi, the Japanese glutton, spent a night in jail after causing a disturbance at the annual pigathon known as Nathan’s Hot Dog Eating Contest. He was in a contract dispute and did not enter the sloth filled event, but then chose, at the crowd’s urging, to run onstage and ruin the victory celebration. I was unaware that hedonists had contracts to begin with; just what does that particular piece of legalese contain? Clauses for diarrhea and puking? A special exemption if you shit yourself? A man who overeats for a living does not strike me as someone who would require a lawyer. A team of doctors certainly and perhaps a shrink or two and maybe a fully bonded plumber on 24 hour call, but a lawyer?

And how was it a celebration anyway? Which of these dysentery laden gentlemen has actually won anything other than a likely enema and an increased chance of contracting rectal tumors the size of honey dew melons? A stage full of slobs who are too full to do anything but belch and explode their insides into a rancid toilet bowl is not exactly a place I want to hang around and drink alcoholic yellowish liquids, particularly ones that are not bottled.

Was anyone up there barking into their cell phone, “Honey, you gotta drop by the party, I can literally smell the burps in the air. You love meat that’s been machine packed in rubber tubes right? Well then this is the place. The whole joint is rocking, there are bits of chewed up beef simmering in small rivulets of bile, I’m totally hemmed in by a sea of gargantuan man tits and my shoes are covered in saliva and chunks of wet bread. The port-a-potties are loaded to the gills and people are defecating right on the beach! Here comes some Asian guy, oh man he’s ruining the party! He has no food in his stomach and he doesn’t even have a look on his face like he’s about to explode diarrhea from his ass. Hey take a hike pal! This stage ain’t for herbivores!”

Wade Phillips is at it again. Apparently Dez Bryant, a rookie, and a cocky one at that, refused to carry equipment for a veteran during a recent training camp practice. Because Bryant has been so good so early, Wade stepped in and said it was a non issue. He said the staff would like the rookies to do this, but it is not mandatory. In other words, he’s pissed that Bryant didn’t do it, but doesn’t have the scrotum to actually get in the kid’s face and say so. So you’ll let a rookie come in and take right over where T.O. left off? Wade is the kind of softy that would stand up in front of reporters and say, “Yes Dez Bryant did slash my tires, have a go with my wife while I was asleep and defecated on my chicken salad. Although we prefer the players not to do this, we do not have any actual rules in writing that say they cannot.”

The latest baseball injuries add more proof to my claim that baseball is not a sport. Chris Coghlan was recently injured rubbing shaving cream in the face of his teammate. You hear that you think, oh, did he suffer a reaction from some chemical in the cream? No? Did the guy he was shaving creaming haul off and whack him? No? Oh, then he must have pressed the can too hard and it exploded in his face. Wrong again. Did he cut himself shaving? He wishes. This clown is out of commission for 8 weeks because he twisted his knee smushing the cream in a teammates face. There’s a well conditioned athlete for you. “Hey Coghlan, do me a favor, go rub this Ben Gay in Walter’s jock strap?” “Me? I can’t do that, I’m already on the DL from that eyebrow plucking mishap, why don’t you ask Smitty?”
“Smitty can’t do it either, he’s on the physically unable to perform list ever since he pantsed the GM at the team barbecue. I’d ask Phipps but he’s in the hospital with that wet willie injury. They say he may never play again.”

Padres Pitcher Mat Latos, the rookie who doesn’t know how to spell Matt, is an even more despicable story. He got hurt sneezing. He had just come back from a horrible farting accident where he ripped his anus in half, then in June he went on the shelf again after a burp lacerated his throat, now he gets hurt sneezing. What kind of person calls himself a man when he’s saying, “Haaaaa- choo, Oh !$%$!! I’m out. Call an ambulance! Make it quick, I’m about to hiccup!”

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