Terry Jones, the pervy-looking preacher man, shot his car last night in Detroit City. Jones drove all the way from Florida to raise hell about Michigan’s Muslims. Jones became famous after threatening to burn a Koran. It doesn’t take much these days to become a celebrity. Joe the Plumber is still haunting freak shows with Sarah Palin, and all he did was badger Obama about taxes. I’m surprised Bald Ambition hasn’t gone straight to DVD. Michael Chiklis has a similar chromed-dome and squat body. The part would require spending time with the developmentally disabled. Actually, Chiklis could research the role by hanging with my brother-in-law, assuming Chiklis is man enough to get boxed before Robin Roberts passes the baton to Kelly Ripa.
But enough of Joe. In another year, maybe two, his travel schedule will be impeded after being placed on the sex offender roster. Let’s pray that Willow is not involved. The last thing Sarah needs is another pregnant minor. I confess that the thought of Joe joining Family Palin as an unlikely son-in-law is rife with creepy potential. Joe, Willow and little P. Trap sharing a windowless A frame has enticing David Lynch meets Maurus Jokai possibilities. And having a professional toilet plunger lurking next door is always a plus. I know from experience that dumping several days of my diet taxes the old American Standard’s flushing capabilities. Just think what moose meat stool must look like? Perhaps carnivorous Alaskans keep Second Amendment remedies near the crapper in case a particularly bold moose meat loaf decides to make a run for it.
On second thought, enough of Terry Jones.
I hope the rain delay continues. Batista is starting tonight. And we all know how his political career in Cuba turned out.
Terry Jones would have fit in well in Peckinpaugh's West. He resembles one of those degenerate bounty hunters who steal dead people's shoes and rings after the shootout at the beginning of the Wild Bunch. The world has too many Terry Joneses and not enough Ernest Borgnines.
ReplyDeleteBatista is doing pretty well considering his 50 years of exile. You have to be in pretty good shape to pitch into your hundreds. Satchel Paige and Jessie Orosco both did it, but I can't think of many others. Jamie Moyer is still dialing up that 67 mile per hour fastball somewhere. Dave Duncan will probably get his hands on him and turn him into a 20 game winner at some point before the end of the decade.
Keith,
ReplyDeleteThere is just something dirty about Preacher Man. He looks like one someone who could spend all day soaking in a Japanese bath and still come out smelling like Mickey Rourke’s leather vest. Not only does he look like a Peckinpah character, he bares a resemblance to Bloody Sam. Put the white trash attention seeker in a bandana and old t-shirt and he could supplement his $200 a month income scamming the senile-dementia afflicted in any of Florida’s 547,000 nursing homes. If overweight con men can scam free drinks and pork baggy-assed poon impersonating Steve Miller, surely ‘Ol Terry can squeeze a few bucks from vacant-eyed fans of “Convoy.” “Look Mr. Shively, Sam Peckinpah is here to autograph your support hose and steal that nice radio you think is a radar detector.”
Tony faked out Dusty Baker (not that hard to do) by starting Batista. I guess Dusty has never heard of the Weather Channel. Batista is forty two. Although forty two seems frisky to me, I worry that his arm might fall off. That type of injury would automatically qualify for the 30 day DL. And when he returned after the limb was reattached with a titanium slingshot the Cards could promote a Steve Austin day in his honor -- maybe hand out Farrah fright wigs to children under twelve.