Let yesterday be a lesson to you and your readers. I still run the show. Even your simpering little blog does not slip under my radar. Let me explain just how far-reaching my stable of bitches extends.
I don’t think I even need to start with Orza or Selig, do I? But mark my words, if any steroid junkie is going to pass the Babe’s homerun mark, it will be one of my steroid junkies. If I want The Big Unit, I will have him. Beltran will be patrolling the outfield for me come April. If I wanted Pedro and his little munchkin-wannabe friend, they’d already be wearing pinstripes. Give me some credit, I take shits bigger than both of them. Did you see me last year on The Apprentice? Trump does some of my light work. Julia Roberts just had twins? Put a little turtle-neck and blazer on that little pecker and who do you think he’ll look like?
I think my message is clear. I’ve been watching both of you very closely. Red, you ever press your pimply white ass on the TV screen while my boys are playing, I’ll do things to you with a cheese grater and Tabasco sauce that will have you crying for momma. Denton, same goes for you. Any more wisecracks about Jeter or any of my boys, and you’ll be curled up in the fetal position drooling over your Talia Shire DVD collection. Any questions? Any more problems and I’ll shut you asswipes down permanently, Enron-style.
