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Let's just say I hate everything and leave it at that, mkay?
10 H, 6 IP. What the hell happened?
Possibly separated shoulder. Not mine of course, but under the circumstances I might prefer a stint of my own on the DL.
Why doesn't someone run over my dog and burn down my house while you're at it?
10 H, 6 IP. What the hell happened?
Possibly separated shoulder. Not mine of course, but under the circumstances I might prefer a stint of my own on the DL.
Why doesn't someone run over my dog and burn down my house while you're at it?
SHUT UP, CAPS. 6 IP, 3 ER, 1 BB, 2 points below the league average in ERA and you're leading your club in Innings Pitched AND strikeouts. You are the sex, and you know it. We can ignore that 10 hits part because they didn't score. HMPH, they don't count. Snubbage.
Possibly separated shoulder. Not mine of course, but under the circumstances I might prefer a stint of my own on the DL.
Dislocated, actually. Too bad that doesn't leave a mark so I can show it off everywhere and look tough! That'd almost make it worthwhile if I could go all piratey and like wear a wifebeater and show off my scars sittin' around in the bar. DON'T YOU EVEN TALK ABOUT going on the DL. I will hunt you down and slap you a couple a times. I'd been sitting for days anyway, so it doesn't make a whole lotta difference with me gone. If you were gone, all the sportscasters would have to find someone else to ignore about being the ACE of the staff.
Why doesn't someone run over my dog and burn down my house while you're at it?
It's really satanically funny to picture it the other way around... Just kidding before you make my stay on the DL longer. I'd totally run into a burning building for the sake of le puppy! Course he could extinguish it with all the cubic meters of drool, so...
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Don't DO THAT. Do not ever hit a wall that hard again in your life or I will hunt you down and slap you a couple times. I almost lost my sanities last night, you know. And if I were rushed to the ER in a severe anxiety attack, we'd both be down and then you would feel bad for making me panic. And then we would both be stuck sitting idly in our respective cities, you would be short an arm, I would be short a brain, and you would have to feed me Prozac for the rest of my life. With your one good arm.
No good can come of this being injured business, see.
By the way I'm telling John you said that.
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