Barry Bastard

Dear Barry Bonds,

Retire.

Go home.

Jump in front of a truck.

Seriously, screw your chase of Hank Aaron's record. You are the holder of a bigger world record that will never, I repeat, never be broken:

World's biggest dickhead baseball personality.

Let's see, from everything that has ever been reported, you:
-Have used performance enhancing drugs (even you've never outright denied that)
-Cheated on your wife
-Beat up your mistress
-Threatened your personal trainer (the one who got you the drugs)
-Refused to show hustle after getting hits, so that you almost never hit doubles
-Threatened your teammates
-And, in your latest chapter, you even blame a teammate for your own use of performance-enhancing drugs.

Wow. Seriously, what could you do for an encore? Kill a kitten with a baseball bat? Throw a baseball at the head of a dying boy? Anally rape Vin Scully?

I mean, just when I think that you couldn't possibly do something to make the people of this nation hate you more, you go and prove me completely wrong. Well, I give up. There is no floor for you, Mr. Bonds. You are a completely terrible human being. You contribute almost nothing positive to this planet. You are the scum of the baseball Earth.

The worst part? You'll completely dodge any charges of illegal drug use that will be brought against you because you gave appropriately vague answers before a grand jury. Because of your celebrity status, you'll pretty much get away with beating whoever you beat. Because of the baseball universe being asleep at the wheel for much of your drug use, you'll even get into the Hall of Fame for the illegitimate numbers that you put up.

In other words, you will never suffer the consequences that you should for the actions that you've done.

Do you even have a conscience, Barry? Don't you ever feel bad about yourself and the people that you hurt? Are you so soulless that you'd step on and hurt anyone or anything just to protect yourself?

In other words, are you related to:
-Hitler?
-Stalin?
-Saddam Hussein?
-Pol Pot?

You know what? I don't want to know. Just go away, Barry. Get lost. Leave us alone, and let us think of what we can do to prevent more jerks like you from ever happening. I don't know why it makes you so happy to be such a miserable human being, but since you insist on that, there's no reason to make the rest of us suffer for it.

Boston Hearts the Yankees

So, Boston, I see that your Red Sox are on a spending spree again.

By paying J.D. Drew $70 million, the Red Sox payroll is up to...looks like well over $190 million.

I'd like to call to your attention three old axioms that seem particularly relevant to this situation:

1) "Imitation is the most sincere form of flattery": by following the Yankees' payroll ideas (a.k.a. "Buy everything in sight to create a winner"), you flatter them by essentially acknowledging that they have the right idea. That's right, Boston Red Sox, you LOVE the Yankees AND their ridiculous payroll ideas. There, I said it.

2) "When you stoop to the level of your enemies, you prove yourselves no better than them": Yep, this pretty much describes the Boston Red Sox all right. Way to prove yourselves as part of the payroll problem in baseball, rather than the solution. Can we rename you "New York Yankees North?"

3) "When you sleep with dogs, you're bound to get fleas": I like this one best. Hey Boston, look how much good your insanely high payroll did you last year. YOU MISSED THE PLAYOFFS! And the Yankees were out in round 1. Team chemistry ever strike you as an idea?

Guess not. Oh well. Just let me know, Boston Red Sox, when you want to order your pin-striped uniforms to complete the transition.