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 room, watching episodes of Dirt (FOR THE PORN CHICK, not for that nutty Friends b*tch). I can understand if you just retired yesterday or something, and you were looking to … well, hell, I don’t know. Pick up Darryl Strawberry as a role model & golf buddy? Move to Hollywood? Impress some 16-year-old learner’s-permit hottie that likes to drive STICK yeah! (Grind those gears baby!)

And don’t get me wrong – I’m all for busting on Patricia and Adam “All But” Dunn. Hell, I do it myself all the time. There’s nothing I loved more last year, after the Yank-Mes screwed yet another pooch A-RODNEY than curling up with a bottle of Effin Vodka, a TV, and highlights of all the whiffs from the Fill-Mes and the Reds (like they DESERVE a fcking nickname). I don’t care if those piles of porkfat get on base 90% of the fcking time – you guys are there to DRIVE IN RUNS. If you were supposed to get on base, you’d be 150 pounds lighter, have dark skin, eat chimichungas, and be called Juan Jose Ureka Conswallow Pedro Jones or some sht. But no – you’re big white sumbtches that can hit the ball a ton. When you actually bother to remember how to do that one little thing. You know, the thing that keeps your fat overpaid *sses in fried chicken and Crisco. It’s called MAKING CONTACT. Try it sometime, and maybe you’ll actually get that batting average over your weight, you horse’s *ssturds.

But, Schmidtty, what the fck are you doing talking about yourself like you’re one of those clowns? You’re Hall of Famer Michael Jack Fcking Schmidt! You hit 500 homers! You won that sad shtsack of a burg an actual honest-to-goodness World Series! Get a fcking clue! (Yeah, I was on the team, too, but I’m modest as fck, and this ain’t about me, so shut the fck up and get me some gddamn ice – that hotel lobby ain’t gettin’ any closer!) You’re talking about how folks would want to pitch to you because of THE BULL batting behind you, because “he put the ball in play”? Are you fcking serious? Now, I got nothing against Luzinski (because if I did, I’d be licking sweat out of his armpit), but the only thing he did better than you was put away the post-game spread. How many times did we come back to the clubhouse to see little old Gregory with the coldcuts tray in his lap like a brokedck Scores girl? That fat fcking bag of f*ck. (No offense, Bully! You still da man! And a half!)

If all it took to hit like Albert Pujols (assuming he’s not on the juice, and that’s a pretty Luzinski-sized assumption there) is hard work and dedication, then fck me, I would’ve been the second coming of Babe Ruth! And you, Mike! Gddamn, you would’ve been Babe Ruth cornholing Ted Williams over Mickey Mantle’s dead ss! Now, sure, if those lazy fat camp rejects decided that, hey, maybe I should save that 12th donut for someone that actually needs the food and hit the batting cages instead, they’d be a little better. Maybe Dunno could hit a robust .240, and maybe Your Majesty could find it in his heart to keep his K numbers lower than Johan Santana’s. But that’s pissing in the wind coming off a wide-open landfill, meaning it stinks like my gddamn feet after waving a certain Effeminate Stick around 3rd after his 8th inning home run in a 29-2 blowout. Or something – metaphors are for gay-ass basketball players (swish!) and poetry f*cks.

What I’m saying to you, Michael Jack Schmidt, a bona fide Hall of Famer, all-around great guy, a pain in the ss poker player, and the greatest player to ever put his dck in a Phillies jockstrap – would you please shut the FCK up and let the folks that know their *ss from a dirty toilet seat do all the talking. Like a certain someone that thought they were your gddamn friend, you stupid no-calling return-to-sender sorry-I’m-busy-ovulating son of a motherless dog’s wet ss fck.

I would kill my mother with your dck for a fcking taco right now.