Welcome Back, Scotter

Thanks for re-upping, Speeze. Your triple against the Brewers on Sep. 30th (a hit which essentially clinched the Cards playoff spot -- a playoff spot which would blossom from a tiny worm into a large cobra as the Cards went on to win the World Series) was one of the most thrilling moments I have ever experienced at the ol' ballpark. Glad you're back; I'll give you an "O" anytime.

(That sounded weird.)

Now, if you'll excuse me, I've found a way to make this week drag out even longer. Much like The Phish, The Lady Friend and I are both Down With Disease (Phish jokes the day after The Great American Smokeout, Al? What's next? Spending the weekend eating nitrous balloons and taking shwills of Sammy Smith at the A-Okay Campground outside of Deer Creek, brah?)and will spend this lovely fall day eating soup and, perhaps, crushing.

Hey, a guys got'sta gets laid.

[have a great weekend kiddo-s. godspeed on the drinko-ing.]


"Welcom Back, Scotter?" Oh, I get it. It's like Welcome Back, Kotter only different.

They don't call me big up for nothing.

Actually, they don't call me big pun at all.
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