Throw Dem 'boes

Whattup, playas? Crazy couple of days since I shot my firehose of reality all over the flames engulfing your minds, but C. Piddy is back in your brain. Feel me squishing around on your gray matter? Is the truth seeping into your subconscious? It's nice up here in your skull. You've got a little tumor sauce, but it looks benign. No bigs. C. Piddy can remove that ASAP after he wraps up this post.

Right off the bat: we need to rap on the big Yankees news. It's got the media all excited, and fans are literally weeping with delight. That's right, playas: I'm going to see Dr. Lewis Yocum to get a fourth opinion on this elbow-piece.

Y'all playas know it; suckers get one opinion, ballers maybe get a second opinion, but straight pimps get a fourth opinion! Booya!

Four opinions? You know it, son. Shit, I ain't about to rush in on anything, and my health insurance has a mad-low copay. True playas only make decisions after 19 opinions, and I'll keep going until I find a doctor who say my swag is tight. Y'all playas know Dr. Nick from the Simpsons? Is he based on a real doctor or some shit? If so, send me his digits. I'm gonna be up to my neck in opinions like 50 Cent, boyeeeee.

Check it: even if the elbow is a broke-beast, C. Piddy can play through the Tommy John surgery. Hell, I could probably play through the actual surgical procedure: just roll a gurney out to the mound and work on me between pitches. Just change the uni to a linen gown for the day; when you've only got one pitcher who's undefeated since 2005, you gotta use him whenever you can.

What? You want to know how I'll hold runners if one gets on first? Playa, have you even WATCHED me pitch? Nobody gets on first. Not even an issue. Alright, fine, you don't want to lose your medical license by performing surgery in a baseball stadium. After the surgery, I can still be the most core fucking center fielder ever to win two Gold Gloves in a single season, play third once A-Rod cools off, and teach Derek Jeter how to play D at short. Yeah, C. Piddy's going to be all up in that pennant race.

Shit, something else I was supposed to spit on y'all playas, I just can't remember it. Oh, right: we signed Roger Clemens this weekend. God, I'm so fucking amped, even if he is from Texas.

Y'all playas think C. Piddy is core? I once saw the Rocket eat a bellboy at the Ritz in San Diego in one fucking gulp. Roger tilted his head back, keeping the base of his skull parallel with the floor, lifted the bellboy up, and swallowed him whole. It was absolutely core. I asked him why, and he just burped up the guy's femur and said, "Felt hungry." That's pimp shit, y'all.

I got no idea why Cashman thinks we need another starter, though. Once C. Piddy comes through this injury, we'll already have the best rotation ever assembled, and $28 million, even if it is slathered in prorated sauce, seems like a lot to pay a long reliever. Whatevs, I ain't mad at ya, Roger: when we go to the Lob or straight-up get our Olive Garden on, you're paying. A little extra Snickers pie? Don't mind if C. Piddy does!

Alright, playas, I gotta get another seven or eight opinions today, and I gotta buy some more AA batteries for my Game Gear. These doctors' waiting rooms almost never have decent arcade games, just a bunch of copies of People and Newsweek. They nearly never update their Highlights magazines, playas. Piddy already spotted the differences and found the paintbrush in that drawing. Though Goofus is straight boss. Whatevs, I've got some phat Sonic and Knuckles lined up for this afternoon.

UCANFINDMEINDAPEACE!

P.S. Did y'all playas see the Kentucky Derby? What about the big fight? Am I the only one who wants to see Street Sense take on Floyd Mayweather for the championship of the fucking mega-verse?