The other day I asked Jim Edmonds what he thought of the new Windows Vista. It perplexes me because I think it’s less user friendly than the previous Windows 98 and Windows XP! I can’t wait until they convert a mega-proton converter more ‘inclining’ version of the application! Edmonds told me that he think I’m a fucking geek and that I’m more useless than dogshit! I’m not allowed to say those words. Eeek!
My manager Tony Larussa upsets me because drinks. Did you know that the other day he went out with the guys and at 62 years old ended up falling asleep behind his wheel at a stoplight? Do you know how dangerous that is?!?!! That could kill someone! Driving under the influence is something I’ll never understand. I don’t understand how humans could be so careless and take life away when they could be spending their time with a beeker and test tube trying to keep life pro-longed, solving cancer, or devising drugs to combat HIV and AIDS! To do such a thing at 62 years old is just scary to me! When I’m 62 I want to have read every word in the encyclopedia series Britannica, 2008 version, A to Z. When I’m done I am going to study the Korran in french and possibly come up with some Galileo and Confucious theories to reason with and teach it to the youngsters.
I don’t go out much on the road. My bed time is 11 pm. When we go into extra innings I just hate it because I have to get 10 hours of sleep every night. One time Jeff Weaver and Chris Carpenter got together with that Pig, Lush, Meathead Izzy and filled my pillow with their pubic hair. What sucked was that they applied shaving cream to my face when they got home from a ‘night on the town’ and pulled some of the hair out of the pillow and onto my little face! Those pricks! That’s not fair. It made me miss home. It made me want my mother, and my teddy bear. I can’t be myself around these guys. People don’t understand how tough it is being a major leaguer with a mind. I should have been a famous chemist. I hate the fact that I was forced into this game because of my ability. I’m forced to be subjected to these pighead jocks that want nothing more than to sodomize me in a place the smells funny!
Like I said, I don’t like bars. There is too much smoke and it flares up my allergies. Do you know how much Carbon Dioxide is in your typical neighborhood bar? Enough to give everyone in it cancer if they attend the establishment for 15.22 days or nights in a given year for 20 years. No thanks! I like my non-cancerous life way too much to give it to myself! I’m way too smart for that. The taste of beer makes my stomach hurt. I like apple juice or milk. That reminds me of the one time that I went to the bar with Edmonds and Rolen. I forgot my ID and the bartender wouldn’t serve me a budweiser. Those two were pissed. I didn’t mind because I said I wanted milk anyways. Edmonds ordered me what he said was a non-alcholic drink. It was called a ‘Jersey Turnpike’. All the sudden I see that jerk, mean bartender leaning over in the corner with a dishrag, ringing it out into a glass. He comes over with that very glass and throws it in front of my face. He says ‘drink it, little fucker’. I started to get up and leave when Edmonds and Rolen came up behind me and forced me back down on my barstool! They told me I wasn’t going home until I finished it and started to heckle me about being jewish and my coin collection. I drank it, and my eyes immediately welled up. I ran back to the team hotel and threw up the rest of the night just thinking about the pathogens and bacteria I was forced to ingest. That was the only game I missed that season, the next day! It’s just not fair.
Another night I was out to dinner with Molina. That sneaky Edmonds came up from the bar in the hotel with a strange woman, wearing barely anything on her body as a dress. I couldn’t look at it, because it made me feel embarrased. Jim said (whispers): “hey, Geekstein, she wants to suck your cock.” I just ignored him hoping he’d go away. Later on in the night I was in my room trying to fall asleep and I heard loud voices plotting things outside my door. I quickly threw down my Stonewall Jackson Civil War novel and turned out all the lights. I hid under the covers. All the sudden Edmonds and Izzy break down my hotel door like buffoons and throw that same near nude woman into my bed with me. She was asleep and she smelled like scotch. I was ready to get sick and all the sudden they closed the door. I had never been alone with a girl before, and I had to do something, I was scared. I wanted to call my sister or my mom, but I heard the guys outside the door. I didn’t want them to come back in and hear me with my mom or sister on the phone so I did my best to please them and do what I thought they wanted. I started to try and kiss the girl. All the sudden when I was getting ready for my first kiss a couple weird things happened.
She smelled like vomit and cigarettes, and the scotch. The guys were outside laughing so I gagged, squinted my little eyes and was going to try and start kissing her anyway. She vomited all over me and my blanket. Then I vomited back. There was puke everywhere and I couldn’t stop. I started crying, I was scared and startled. I just wanted a quiet night’s sleep and my civil war book. Then when Edmonds, Rolen, and Izzy that asshole (I’m sorry) came back in the room to get her off the bed, they were laughing at all the vomit in my bed and me being so sick. Rolen picked her up and slung her over his shoulder. As he did it, for some reason this lady wasn’t wearing pants and she pooped runny mess all over my room, causing me to vomit more all over the room. I told them to get out and screamed at them. I told them I was going to tell our coach Dave Duncan if they didn’t stop. They called me a little fucker and told me that I was paying for my room damage and ‘any other shit she squirts in our room while we’re fucking her’.
Like I said. I just wish I could have been an alchemist. Baseball is too wild.