(Editor’s note: This originally appeared over at Old Time Family Baseball, for the blogathon. I believe you can still donate.)
Well, it’s been a while, huh dear readers? Boy have I missed you guys. I really have. But more than that, I’m just plain happy as hell to be making my return for Old Time Family Baseball’s now annual blogathon. In the last few months, I’ve had a lot of time to think about sex and murder and marriage, so I think I have a lot of good things to offer here.
So, as you may have figured from this appearing on a baseball blog, today’s entry is Baseball themed. We will be examining three fictional baseball players. First up, Boston’s favorite son, Sam Malone (of Cheers [NBC]). Next, we will examine the apparently divinely endowed talents of Mr. Roy Hobbs (of the Natural.) Finally, we will explore the only person on this list who I still believe is real, Benny “The Jet” Rodriguez (of the Sandlot.) Let’s get into this.
First up: Sam Malone.
Why you should bop him:
Look at that luxurious mane! And the swagger. And he runs a bar, so you can probably get wasted for cheap! But not with Sam. He’s in recovery. So you know he’s seen and done some messed up stuff, which, if that’s not a thing that turns you on, you’re a weirdo. Also, the word “lothario” appears a surprising amount on his wikipedia page.
Why you should marry him:
He runs a bar that is famously CONSTANTLY full of people who are CONSTANTLY drinking, so he’s gotta be rolling in fat dough. Plus he’s occasionally in beer commercials. Also, he’s in alcohol recovery, so he probably has a handle on his behavior in a lot of ways. Or something.
Why you should kill him:
He was a FILTHY FUCKING RED SOCK!
Next, Roy Hobbs.
Why you should bop him:
HE’S ROBERT FUCKING REDFORD! WHY ARE YOU EVEN ASKING?
Why you should marry him:
He’s so devoted to his family, that he makes his bat out of the tree that killed his father… wait, that’s actually super weird. But at least his illegitimate son that he didn’t know about is the reason he hit his playoff-clinching home run! Plus, he’s a naturally gifted athlete, who can make magic bats out of deadly trees.
Why you should kill him:
Well, for one, a bunch of people seem to REALLY want him dead, so you can probably get some money for it. Plus, he’s apparently some sort of lightning/tree wizard. Also, that stomach thing seems like it’s basically a long-term death sentence that’s going to suck a lot, so maybe just put him out of his misery?
Finally, Benny “The Jet” Rodriguez.
Why you should bop him:
Do I need to really write anything here? Can’t you all just go and watch that scene in The Sandlot where he gets the ball back? I don’t what the sex version of PF Flyers are, but I’m sure he’ll wear them and ROCK YOUR FUCKING WORLD. Plus, I don’t know what the sexual equivalent of stealing home is, but I bet having it done to you is really awesome.
Why you should marry him:
While the movie doesn’t discuss his major league career in all that much detail, he IS on the Dodgers, and his career has been notable enough for Smalls to observe that “folks say he’s lost a step or two.” So he’s got major league baseball money. And with that mustache, the endorsements have got to come rolling in upon retirement.
Why you should kill him:
I’m pretty sure PF Flyers count as Performance Enhancing Drugs. And if they don’t, the sage advice of a wise, blind, old black man DEFINITELY counts. And we all know that doing anything at all to enhance your performance, even with the tacit support of the entire sports viewing/writing-about/knowing-about world, is the most evil thing someone can do.
The Final Verdict:
I’d make shit up about how hard of a decision this is to make, but it’s not, so here you all go:
Bop: Roy Hobbs. The reasoning here is twofold. 1) He’s Robert Fucking Redford. 2) He has three separate lady-callers over the course of the movie. Plus all the shit about being naturally gifted. He almost definitely has a huge schlong.
Marry: Benny “The Jet” Rodriguez. He’s just as talented as Roy Hobbs, but his bravery takes a more physical manifestation which, I don’t know, means something probably. Also, he doesn’t have that pesky moral opposition to taking money for throwing a game.
Kill: Sam Malone. Kill him and every member of every Red Sox team.
Hello dear readers,
Please turn your attention to old time family baseball. They’re doing good stuff, and I wrote a post for them that will be going up this evening.
Also, sorry for the extended absence.
Suck it haters, I’m back. I know you’ve all stayed up nights wondering, “Will ‘Bop Marry Kill’ ever be a thing again? And why does John so constantly go silent on us?” Well wonder no more! I’m back, and I go silent on you because I am a superhero by night.
On to the matter at hand! Election season is rapidly approaching. Or basically it’s already here. Campaign ads are airing all over the place, and much of the news is dedicated to the stupid things that two men vying for the most important position of the free world say when cameras are in front of them. Anyway, today, I bring my highly skilled eye to the republican side of that there presidential campaign. I will of course start out by looking at the man that is basically definitely running for President from the Republican Party, Willard “Mitt” Romney. Next we will look at the dude from Wisconsin that is hoping to get a job breaking deadlocks in the Senate and going to people’s funerals, Paul Ryan. And finally, we will look at the most important piece in the GOP ticket-puzzle, Mitt Romney’s olympic-participant horse, Rafalca.
Let’s get into this!
First up: Mitt Romney
Why you should bop him:
Look at that hair! He looks exactly like one of those dudes from those Just For Men: Touch of Grey commercials. Remember? There was that one with the guy who’s lady-neighbor came over to borrow milk, but his hair was all fartishly grey, so he jumped out of his bathroom window, bought some touch of grey, fixed his hair, gave that lady her milk, and then probably banged her? I bet Romney fucks JUST like that dude.
Why you should marry him:
Well for one, I think he’s the guy on this list that you would face the least judgment for marrying. I mean, he’s a Mormon, so he can take multiple wives [note: not legally, he can’t, but then again, it’s not legal for you to marry the horse AT ALL and you run into the same marriage problem with Paul Ryan, but his religion isn’t all about that shit.] Also, if you look at his record as the Governor of Massachusetts, he’s a hero of moderate liberalism. MA’s health care law? Romney. And you know who based his health care law largely on MA’s? That’s right! Obama!
Why you should kill him:
If he becomes president, we’re DEFINITELY going to have to start wearing the Mormon magic-underwear.
Up next, Paul Ryan
Why you should bop him:
Look at those piercing blue eyes! Did you look at them? I mean, really look at them. He also uses the P90x workout system, and that muscle confusion stuff has me confused about all differrent types of stuff (sexuality). He is also a vocal opponent of Abortion Rights and Marriage Equality, which almost certainly means he harbors deep, dark, perverted sexual tendencies. Like, perverted even by my readers’ standards.
Why you should marry him:
Dude’s the head of the House Budget Committee, so he knows a thing or two about how to balance a checkbook (He’s balancing basically the biggest one in the world.) And he lives in a 6 bedroom house in Wisconsin, which is God’s Country. They make beer there. And Cheese. Beer and cheese.
Why you should kill him:
Dude’s the head of the House Budget Committee, so he is without a doubt among the four most boring people in the world. And he’s married to a FUCKING TAX ATTORNEY! I fell asleep while typing that, and I was typing it in all caps, which means it was loud.
Finally, Rafalca Romney
Why you should bop her:
She’s a damn olympian. You know how horny everyone gets over at Olympic Village! Straight-up Fuck City over there! And, I mean, the olympic event she competed in is called Horse Dancing, so she’s a dancer, and dancers can do some weird shit. [Note: weird shit outside of the already admittedly very weird idea of interspecies sex {sub-note: even this isn’t as perverted as Paul Ryan is deep in his black heart.}]
Why you should marry her:
She’s a horse. You’d really be sticking it to all of those gay marriage opponents claiming that gay marriage will lead to men marrying dogs. Well fuck that! You’re marrying a horse! And this horse has an olympic pedigree!
Why you should kill her:
Not gonna front, Rafalca’s performance at the Olympics was less than impressive. Plus, kids will be returning to school soon, and they’re going to need glue.
— The Final Verdict —
Well. With this election coming up, these questions I ask become more important than ever, so let’s get down to answering them, shall we? Great, we shall.
Bop: Rafalca Romney. She’s an Olympic Dancer, and, if you play your cards right, you could have a movie made about you!
Marry: Paul Ryan. Basically, he’d worry about the money, and you’d worry about eating all the cheese and drinking all the beer.
Kill: Mitt Romney. Stop that Magic Underwear stuff before it starts!
So that’s what’s up. Reblog with your feelings on this matter, and go fuck some horses!
Happy Feast of St. Patrick out there all you devout catholics out there! It’s great to see everyone really get into the spirit of one of the many meaningless holidays celebrating our saints. It does the Catholic part of me good. Well, at least the part of the Catholic part that isn’t concerned about being guilty about every little thing I do, think or say. St. Patrick, for those of you don’t know, is the patron saint of Ireland and is largely credited with bringing Christianity to the big green rock and or forcing out all of the snakes.
One other great thing about St. Patrick is that he wasn’t born in Ireland. He was born somewhere in southern France/northern Italy and was brought to Ireland after being kidnapped by pirates! So in that spirit, let’s look at some other totally not Irish things that have been associated with what is essentially a random day the Vatican decided you need to go to church on. First, corned beef, which is generally attributed to Eastern European jews. Then Green beer, which is mostly the product of assholes with food coloring catering to assholes with drinking problems who are looking for an excuse. Finally, we’ll look at Boston-based Irish Punk band, the Dropkick Murphys. (Note, this is the Boston that is in America, not some secret Boston located in actual Ireland.)
First up, Corned Beef.
Why you should bop it:
Uh… Look at that picture. That shit is SEXY!
Why you should marry it:
Corned Beef is goddamn delicious. It is basically the deliciousest. I was vegetarian for two whole years, but then walked past a deli in New York and was all “fuck it! Cows SHOULD die for me.” Plus, this is one of those foods that came about out of necessity. The brine that this stuff is soaked in was designed to make it keep for a long time, and it’s tender flakes come from one of the toughest cuts of beef, so it takes skill to make. Plus, think of the applications! Corned beef, corned beef hash, REUBENS!
Why you should kill it:
I mean, it’s one of those things that is wrongly associated with the Irish for some reason, but that’s not really a reason to kill it.
Next up, Green Beer!
Why you should bop it:
Come on man, it’s beer! It lowers inhibitions, and makes ladies and dudes alike look sexier! Plus green foods are like, scientifically proven to get people hot to trot (which brings up a good question, why hot to trot? That seems like a stupid sex metaphor). Anyway, yeah, beer is sex.
Why you should marry it:
IT’S FUCKING BEER! Beer is the greatest thing in the world!
Why you should kill it:
There is absolutely no reason for beer to be green. Companies dye their beer green because idiots use St. Patrick’s day as an excuse to get drunk, but they’re pussies and can’t handle traditional Irish drinks like Whiskey or Guinness or Whiskey or Whiskey. Plus green food dye has to cause like 78 different types of cancer.
Finally, Dropkick Murphys.
Why you should bop them:
Oi! Punk Rock! ANARCHY! These working class punk dudes have all the energy you’d associate with Punk (you know, when it’s performed by forty-somethings) and that energy is SEXY. Remember the Sex Pistols? They were sexy! Also, that guy is wearing a skirt or some shit, turning taboos on their heads!
Why you should marry them:
I’m going to name a city. That city is Boston. I am willing to bet that the first song to come to your brain was “Shipping up to Boston” (famous for appearances in The Departed and every piece of pop culture to mention Boston since its release) [Though I guess some of you might have thought of “Dirty Water” as performed by the Standells, in which case, let’s get a beer, you’re my type of guy/girl]. That song was recorded by the Dropkick Murphys and they must have made a boatload off that shit.
Why you should kill them:
I try not to get into this line of thinking, but man, their crowd sucks these days. Back when I first saw them (Sorry, I’m SO sorry) it was all about punk rawk and ANARCHY. But now it’s all like “YEAH BOSTON! I’M AN IRISH ASSHOLE!” And that sucks.
— The Final Verdict —
Alright, for Ireland! I have to come to my decision. I’m not going to dilly-dally here because I’ve got corned beef to eat and green beer to drink.
Bop: Corned Beef. It’s just… so fucking sexy, man.
Marry: Dropkick Murphys. They got that Scorcese money SON! Get paid!
Kill: Green Beer. There is no reason for beer to ever be green. Ever.
Erin Go Braugh! Thanks for reading. Fuck you if you disagree. Do you even dare to disagree?
Alright dudes and lady-dudes. After a brief hiatus, the inspiration fairy has sprinkled its magic powder into my pee-hole (that’s how inspiration works guys, look it up) and it is time for a new Bop Marry Kill post. And this week, what with South by Southwest being in full swing down in Austin, I figure, why not do some of the bigger festivals? You know? Why not? Anyway, in alphabetical order, the festivals I could think of were Bonnaroo, Coachella, and SXSW. So without any further ado, let’s get into them shits!
First up, Bonnaroo!
Why you should bop it:
Bonaroo definitely has more of a classic, hippie festival type feel. People without shirts sleeping in the mud and watching bands and stuff. And we all know the hippies were just super into bonking the shit out of each other. Plus, like, camping and shit. So primal! I bet it’s just like a huge pheromone party and everyone is just inexplicably super horny!
Why you should marry it:
Bonnaroo pulls in some pretty dope big acts and pulls in big money for Coffee County. The type of stuff that can really sustain you. And speaking of sustain, festival organizers pride themselves on creating a sustainable festival. This commitment to the environment indicates a good heart, which is probably like a good thing to be married to, one would assume.
Why you should kill it:
My cousin once went to Bonnaroo and he had to borrow my tent. When he returned that tent, it smelled funny.
Up Next, Coachella
Why you should bop it:
Coachella is the tiniest bit less hippie-y than Bonnaroo, but it’s still pretty hippy-ish! Less camping though :/ Anyway, it also takes place in the desert, which is, like, mysterious and alluring or some shit.
Why you should marry it:
DUDE! Did you see this year’s line up? Refused and ATDI reunited for it!!!!!!!!
Why you should kill it:
Everyone thinks, “oh, it’s in southern California, that must be cool!” FALSE! It is in the desert, and it sucks. The desert sucks so much. Fuck it so hard! Plus, it gets to be like a zillion degrees during the day, and the sun shines on you unrelentingly like your some kind of biblical idiot who pissed off God. Oh, and then the temperature drops to like negative a zillion at night when the all-seeing eye of God goes to sleep. And then the snakes come out!
Finally, SXSW
Why you should bop it:
Alright folks, Austin is a college town. Most of us have gone to college at this point, and you don’t need me to tell you that colleges are full of horny idiots who drink too much. So add to that the fact that many of the events at SXSW include free beer, and, well, you’re gonna get your dick wet, bro. Plus I bet that place is crawling with sexually repressed Texans who are just aching to explore the sensual world.
Why you should marry it:
This is a true multi-media event. Whether you’re into film, music, or interactive media, there is something happening for you in the city of Austin during South by Southwest. Plus, this festival takes place at actual venues, so it’s like it has its own place, as opposed to Bonnaroo or Coachella which just sort of crash wherever, man. And did I mention the free beer at some of the events? Oh, and Austin has some AWESOME barbecue and mexican food. So it’s like, your new spouse-festival can cook.
Why you should kill it:
Tickets to the festival are ridiculous expensive. Like $600 for the music festival. That’s approximately a month’s rent for me dudes, and that’s just for the right to stand in line to get into shows. There’s also, you know, sleeping at a place, and eating. Though one could potentially just get by on the calories from the free beer.
— The Final Verdict —
Well folks, in the interest of, like, telling you things, I have never been to any of these festivals. Mostly because I’m poor, but also because I hate camping, which rules two of them out no matter how much money I have. Anyway, let’s just get right down to this shit, dawgs.
Bop: Bonnaroo. The spirit of the hippies lives there, and I think enough time has passed for us to all admit that the hippie movement was just an excuse for everyone to bang everyone else before white people created AIDS.
Marry: SXSW. This festival takes place in the coolest place of any of these festivals, plus it’s a multimedia thing. You wouldn’t get too bored with music if you had movies to go see and stuff. Also, inside.
Kill: Coachella. 1) Straight up, fuck camping in the desert. Fuck it super hard. 2) It’s not even like this is really in the middle of nowhere. It’s just far enough from the city to be inconvenient, but not far enough away to feel truly secluded. Fuck it!
So there you have it. Thoughts can be directed up your ass! Or wait, would you rather just tell me in an answer box?
