Quelle Fashionista
August 18, 2009
I started a clothing line!
Despite what the Daily “News” would like to stir up, I am not dissing anyone in particular. I think a lot of celebrities mentioned in that article have the best intentions. If anything, I am poking fun at those who are totally out of touch with the rest of the world, and at myself- “Save the Last Shants?” Come on.
The Mark of Cain
August 16, 2009
I didn’t think I would be writing about baseball again this season, because it’s too painful too watch. But it just got more painful… literally.
The Mets have an outrageous number of injuries, and are generally playing like chickens with their heads cut off. The trade deadline passed tradelessly, and Omar Minaya confirmed their decision to throw in the towel by essentially saying the team isn’t even close to making the playoffs. I won’t even get into problems higher up in the organization.
Then Giants’ pitcher Matt Cain has to go and pick on the face of our franchise. He lobs a 94mph fastball inside with the count 0-2 at David Wright, who immediately collapses on the ground. I understand protecting the plate, but that effing guy has some balls. I don’t care what anyone says, you don’t throw at someone’s head. And if he lost control of his mechanics, he should fall on his sword and apologize. I never heard the words “I’m sorry” in interviews after the game. When asked if he would call Wright at the Hospital for Special Surgery, Cain said he might, or he might “just see him at the ballpark.”
Then the M-effing guy describes his immediate reaction was to wonder how bad David Wright was hit. Really? I mean, really? In a split second Wright dropped to ground. This was so fast, it was obviously not a conscious decision- his body gave out because he caught a 94mph fastball in the temple. That kind of collapse is pretty telling.
As if that’s not enough, esse chingadero (Matt Cain) explained in interviews why he tipped his cap to booing NY fans as he walked off the mound by simply shrugging, “New York.”
I’m not a believer in tit-for-tat, except when it comes to baseball. And I applaud Johan Santana; not for hitting Pablo Sandoval and Benjie Molina later in the game, but for answering reporters with aggressive aloofness. Did he hit Molina by accident? In Santana’s words, “I feel like I have to protect my teammates, you can call that whatever you want.” But did he retaliate on purpose? Maybe his first answer wasn’t clear enough: “I don’t have to explain anything.”
Damn Straight, Johan.
