Sorry, for the long delay

I want everyone to know up front that you are very lucky I am writing today. I have an excruciating pain in my lower left testicle. I either involuntarily hit it, or that weekend in Lake Charles when I drank 73 consecutive scotches, and punched the Black Jack dealer in the sternum has finally caught up with me. Regardless of the source, it is getting increasingly more difficult to walk, and I’m sweating like Tim Robbins at a rodeo. This just shows my dedication to my faithful readers. I would much rather be sitting on a bag of frozen peas with a big gulp full of malt liquor, but I’m not. I don’t really have any funny stories to share. How about the Houston Astros? I can just hear the thousands of clicks of female readers closing the web page. LOOK, I’m a male. I am going to talk about sports every now and then. If I’m not mistaken, this site was originally named Sports Rants, and was a safe haven for the avid sports fan, and degenerate gamblers. Only a few months ago did it morph into incoherent ramblings, and tales of drunken escapades in the cornfields of Iowa. I’ll make it up to you ladies. Tomorrow, I will write about something REALLY gay, and then maybe we can have a pillow fight in our pj’s. Feel free to e-mail me with suggestions for tomorrow’s REALLY GAY piece. But for now, it’s all sports you filthy hookers. So go back to your knitting, and Good Morning America.

If someone would’ve bet me three scotches, and a blueberry snow cone that the Astros would be 59-48 after 107 games, I would’ve gladly accepted. Well, maybe if it was bubble gum. I’m not too fond of blueberry. So to backtrack, I would not have accepted the bet. I would’ve made a counter offer for three scotches and a bubble gum snow cone. The point is the Astros are simply on fire, and I happen to like it. Coming off a very impressive July, the team has picked up where they left off, winning the first two out of three games of August from Arizona. That brings me to my next point. Who in the name of Debbie Allen designed their uniforms? They seriously look like something you could buy in a gift shop on an Indian reservation. I’m here to tell you that teal, purple, and black never work together. They aren’t the greatest of teams either. You would think with the addition of guys like Troy Glaus, and Shawn Green, the team would be somewhat competitive. The funny thing is, they are just one game out of their respective race in the National League West. Arizona is 52-57, and one game out of the division lead. If Arizona makes it to the National League Championship Series, I will shave my armpits, and go by Melissa for a month. It’s time I congratulated Andy Pettitte on his insane month of July. Andy went 5-0 with a .90 era. That is pretty ridiculous. Almost as ridiculous as the time I sold a kangaroo to a 7-year old for a couple of bucks, and a David Cone rookie card. I don’t even know what I ‘m talking about. I have alienated my female readers, and I have a rash on my back that I’m 64% is fatal, and most likely is a rare form of West Nile. You know what? To be fair, I am going to start segregating my posts into male and female portions. That way, everybody is happy.

Females, and flaming males.

Hey sweeties. Doesn’t your hair look soooo good? We have to go shopping together! Sorry about that, and I wonder why I’m so popular with the gay population. I would’ve thought when I said that I wanted to throw a live grenade in a gay bar, that the gays would not like me very much. I was wrong. Here is an e-mail I received from a Darren in the Big Apple.

Pat,

I know you’ve pretty much based all your columns on making fun of homosexuals, and the homeless, but I’m here to tell you that me and my friends think you are so cute. I bet you’d have a great time out with us, and we can probably drink you under the table. Anyways, the gay men of New York LOVE you!!! Have a great day!

Love Always,

Darren
New York City, New York.


First of all, I’d like to have a moment of silence for Darren. Although, he was a nice man, I had to hit him a few times with a lead pipe for that,”drink you under the table,” comment. I mean, my God, was that just a screaming sexual innuendo or what? I will NOT stand for any e-mail like that. You make out with a couple of dudes one drunken weekend, and all of a sudden you’re gay? I just don’t know anymore. In fact, I am so angry by that e-mail, that I might kick a small furry creature. Nevermind, I am going directly to a local speakeasy to spit off Saved by the Bell trivia to some unsuspecting female.