New York, New York: it’s my kinda herpes sore. That’s right, Jethro Tull — lock your doors, drink your whiskey, and hide your grandmas, because L-Bow’s back with a deeeep bend for The City That Never Sleeps Without Bedbugs Crawling All Over Its F*cking Face. In case you happened to miss the biggest f*cking sports […]
Continue reading →Heard you missed me — well, I’m back! Gimme something to f*cking write on, man! So, yeah, congrats to the motherf*cking Phillies for figuring out the mysteries of indoor f*cking plumbing. I have two words to say about the 2008 World Series: f*ck this sh*t. I’d rather watch Barry HUSSEIN Obama spread the wealth around like […]
Continue reading →Since the sports world can’t seem to get enough about how stupid all these dumb-ss coaching regulations are, allow me to do what these so-called journalists can’t seem to do and tell it to you straight, L-Bow style. That’s right, ladies. BLEEP BLEEP is back, La-La Land style. And unlike that soft-tossing gimp Pedro, I […]
Continue reading →Oh, Schmidtty. What the fck are you smoking, and why the fck are you smoking it now? And did you forget how to pick up a fcking phone and call your old buddy L-Bow for a little bender? What the fck, it’s not like I’m busy. I’m just sitting here in a cootie-covered Motel 6 […]
Continue reading →OK, first of all, what the FCK is up with no pictures of me in a gddamn Yankee uniform where I’m not giving some jackss a high-five after their fifteen fcking minute home run trot? Note to fellow Yankers: when I pat you on the ss as you’re rounding third, it’s because I want you […]
Continue reading →Ha! Wrong stripes, but close enough! Nice to see someone took the f*cking hint I oh-so-subtlely offered last time. Thanks to Mr. George Steinbrenner and a couple bottles of Disaronno, I am finally part of a class baseball organization. Oh, yeah, some of you dipsh*ts are probably itching at the d*ck to go to your […]
Continue reading →Well, don’t that beat all. Here I thought an old teammate was gonna give old L-Bow a little bend, and maybe let me help him fix his f*cked-up team. Not that I would’ve taken the damn job, but when Billy Bob called me – yeah, he called me himself! – he sounded a little choked […]
Continue reading →Let’s do a comparison. Pitcher A is a fat gimpy godboy on the juice that went from being Super Tough Power Pitcher Man to soft-tossing Frank Tanana-wannabe b*tch. Pitcher B is a overpaid waste of mile high sh*t lucking into the best f*cking streak he’ll ever see. Pitcher C is some f*cking wanna-be rock star […]
Continue reading →Not that it’s any of your g*ddamn business, but as of right now I’m on vacation from this blog bullsh*t because you f*cking girlie b*tches with your “way to go Larry!” this and “you rock!” that make me wanna actually live in Connecticut with your sadsack insurance-buying b*tch*sses. Yeah, maybe I’ll go chill with my […]
Continue reading →Hey – who’s that sexy bastard? Oh yeah – it’s me! And I’m still looking good! So you f*ckwits caught me at a beautiful time. I just went to the dentist because my teeth have been hurting like a b*tch (the Palmeiro type), and I hadn’t gone in about 10 years. I mean, what the […]
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