Some jokes about baseball, plus some political stuff. After the Red Sox’ epic collapse last fall, and a lack of pitching depth, I’m not enthusiastic about this season.
I tweeted this morning that I’d do a Quickie about the first news item someone sent to me. And once again it was this dude who gave me a Quickie subject. If anyone else starts reading my tweets, I might make it a regular thing.
It’s a big sports day here in Boston, with the Bruins a couple hours away from Game 7 in Vancouver. I’m debating whether or not I should liveblog the game. If that’s something you’d like to see, let me know in the comments. Otherwise I’ll probably just tweet a few mean things about Canada during commercial breaks, particularly about Tim Hortons and their foreskin-filled donuts.
In the meantime, Canuck fan and comedian Andrew Barber has been posting a funny series of videos as faux Bruins fan Boston Greg that are worth checking out even if you don’t follow sports.
As for Jeter’s injury: It means he’ll get his 3,000th hit during some other game I won’t be watching or have much interest in beyond its effect on the AL East standings.
The Red Sox have been flirting with .500 for what feels like an eternity. Pretty soon I’ll have to give up hoping that it’s just a slow start and begin to admit that this team isn’t very good, particularly the pitching.
As for the Bruins, they’re in the third of what feels like an infinite number of NHL playoff rounds. Which is fine by me. They’ve been fun to watch all season.
I am 5’3″, and therefore unqualified to comment on the Celtics and basketball in general. Except to say that I’ll be very glad when that clip of Rondo dislocating his elbow stops appearing everywhere and grossing me out.
And so concludes “Brian Blogs about Boston Shit” week.
It’s baseball season! Hopefully the Red Sox do as well as everyone’s predicting, and A-Rod chokes on a popcorn kernel carelessly fed to him by Cameron Diaz.
Next Week: Reality Show Pitches
Since the 2010 baseball season officially ended for me this week, I thought I’d turn my attentions toward some lesser-known sports.
I had to make some last-minute changes to this cartoon after Googling the original final panel and discovering it was one of the least original ideas I’ve ever had. I usually do this before drawing, but I was lazy this week, both in joke-writing and joke-checking.
This idea was so unoriginal, it even appeared on an episode of Rock of Love. I’m blaming my lameness on the blinding rage I go into whenever a gigantic, sidewalk-hogging stroller obstructs my path. Those things are bigger than bikes, and as a result, parents and their SUV-sized strollers should be relegated to bike lanes whenever possible. (Parents who use baby bjorns and/or compact strollers, you’re cool.) I won’t even get started on how annoying these assholes are on public transit.
Next Week: The Intellectual Underground
There’s very little internet time here in Pennsylvania, so here’s this week’s cartoon.
I’ll write more when I get home.
Next Week: ?
[Cartoonist Note: It was announced that Jim Bunning ended his filibuster threat while I was typing this up. That doesn’t change the fact that he remains a senile turd.]
Bunning is the Grandpa Abe Simpson of the Senate. I don’t have anything to say about how he partially froze the government beyond what Kevin Moore and David Rees have already said. BUT, I have been driven insane by all the baseball puns and clichés used by news outlets covering this story.
I’m sure there have been countless others, all as groan-inducing as a Jay Leno monologue. In the interest of improving the quality of topical Bunning-baseball humor, I whipped up a few jokes:
Government spending caused Jim Bunning to balk, allowing Harry Reid to advance to second base. Olympia Snowe’s breasts were not pleased.
Jim Bunning and Curt Schilling walk into a bar. They wouldn’t shut the fuck up and everyone left before they got to the punchline.
Jim Bunning treated the unemployed to some chin music this week, if you consider the sound of his wrinkly old balls slapping against poor people’s faces to be musical.
Pitchers and catchers reported a couple weeks ago, except for former pitcher Jim Bunning. He was busy eating out a Kentucky Tea Partier’s asshole.
It’s a shame I’m not on anyone’s fax list.
Aw, jeez Maine. I thought you were cool. Then you went and turned Portland into Maine’s Austin. Was your vote a result of Jumping Frenchmen of Maine Syndrome and the sudden stimuli of out-of-state funded political ads?
Rhode Island is on notice too. Gay marriage still isn’t allowed there.
Connecticut has gay marriage, but it also has Lieberman, not to mention half the state roots for the motherfuckin’ Yankees. (Connecticut Mets fans: We cool.) So I can’t in good conscience grant it admission into New New England.
Baseball season is finally here. It’s been a long winter.
I’m cautiously optimistic about the Red Sox’ chances this season. The average age of the roster is a little too high to instill much confidence. Last year, when everyone was a year younger, the team was already plagued with injuries.
Work on the new Big Fat Whale book continues. I hope you will buy it when it’s done.
Next Week: The Bankers’ Dozens
I was working on this week’s cartoon when Jon (Sorry I called you garbage in another post.) Lester threw tonight’s no-hitter. Last September 1st, I was working on another cartoon when Clay Buchholz threw his.
Obviously, Red Sox starters should coordinate their rotation with my cartooning schedule. Maybe I have to get a cartoon done on time if they’re ever gonna have a perfect game.