Keep This Winning Streak Goin’ Honeys, and I’ll Take off my Brassiere for Ya

I’ll tell ya one thing honeys, there’s nothing like a winning team in the Queen City summer to make an old woman feel young again.

Last night made it five in a row for you sweeties, and I need ta celebrate. Why don’tcha run to the store for me darlings and pick up a bottle of peach schnapps for me now baby? I’ll need ya ta also pick me up a few other simple items honey. Bring ol’ Marge some ‘Ginnies and get Schottzie some more Top Choice would ya honey?

You kids have done a lot of damage without that big Italian prince first-basemen of yours baby. Reminds me of the time that I went to the riverboat with Larry Flynt and I ran out of packs of Liggetts Eve. What a long eight hours that was, sweetie. But we got through it, yes we did now honeys. The lesson in life is all about hard times we endure. That’s what life’s all about honeys.

It reminds me of a poem I would like to dedicate to this year’s Redlegs, because once you are one of the Reds baseball family it becomes part of you; it makes you complete. It’s like that same pair of underwear I wore all through the ’90 playoffs sweetie.

[hacks, coughs, attempts to clear throat, fails]

You’ve come a long way, baby
To get where you’ve got to today
You’ve got your own cigarette now, baby
You’ve come a long, long way

I hope that ya liked it honey. Now lean down here and rub Ol’ Schottzie girl right by where she delivers her babies, sweetie. She really likes it there. That’s right, rub it for the winning streak honey.

I’m proud of all you boys. Even that obnoxious little bastard Phillips. I don’t know whose the better darkie between him and that manager sweetie. I just love em’ both, you know. You boys treated those Brewers like we used to treat the old antique pinball machine in my fifth husband’s basement. Do you know that honeys? Rag dolls sweetie. Go into my medicine cabinet and fetch me the raw ether sweetie, I need to take my morning heart pill. Don’t mix it up with the rubbing alcohol baby, that shit gives me horrible indigestion.

You boys carry on the winning tradition for ol’ Marge and Schottzie baby. Just keep piling up those winning streaks like empty bottles of lighter fluid at ol’ Marge’s house baby. Dont’cha worry about those Pirates, that city is full of degenerate Mosshead murderers baby. It’s nothing like the great city of Cincinnati. They’re just trivial mooncrickets, baby. They make Eric Davis look white.

And when you clinch this thing in a short while sweeties, we’ll have a party that rivals Hugh Hefner’s blowouts. Ol’ Marge will be on that dance floor with all of you. Last one out gets to help me with my disposable douche at the end of the night sweeties. Keep it going for the one who owns all of you, darlings.