BIG PAPI: (addressing the crowd at Fenway before the first game after the Marathon bombings) "This Is Our Fu*king City!"

YES! We bring home the bacon in a BIG way, at home!!
Congrats to the Sox and to the Nation for another World Championship!!

I'm sure you guys are sick of all the Red Sox hooplah around the Daily Dandy(unless you are a Boston fan), but I swear, this post is the BEST of all.

This was written by a Philadelphia sports blogger from the blog Crossing Broad on Oct 23, 2013, named Kyle Scott who had just about had enough...
Boston, that is. I love this so much! Much more than words will describe. Read it to the end as his hatred is palpable, and I caution: lots of f-bombs.
The post, is as follows, entitled:

  "Go Screw, Boston"/Kyle Scott

I’ve spent the past two hours trying to find something – literally anything – to write about. I came close to posting, in-full, a reader rant on Paul Holmgren, but it got incoherent towards the end and, well, I’m the only one who is allowed to be incoherent around here. So that was out. And there’s nothing else going on. What the hell are you supposed to write about when local teams have won three games IN THE PAST MONTH and any more posts about ex-Philly folks killing it would be trolling?

But then it hit me: Today is Boston day in the sports world. Yet again, Boston.

I love Boston as a city. If there’s one place I had to move, it’d probably be there. Big city stuff in a smaller package. Relatively clean. Beaches nearby. History. An indigenous community.

Great sports teams…

… all of whom can go fuck themselves.

Just in the last 10 years:

Patriots

Won Super Bowl in 2003

Won Super Bowl in 2004

Lost Super Bowl in 2007

Lost Super Bowl in 2011

Four Super Bowls in 10 years, and that’s not counting their Super Bowl win in 2001 and Super Bowl loss in 1996. 

Bruins

Won Stanley Cup in 2011

Lost Stanley Cup in 2013

Two of the last three Stanley Cup Finals.

Celtics

Won NBA Championship in 2008

Lost NBA Finals in 2010

Two Finals appearances, one win, and a thrilling seven-game series with the Heat in the past five years.

Red Sox

Won World Series in 2004

Won World Series in 2007

In World Series in 2013

86-year drought and then two World Series wins in three years, followed by another World Series appearance this year.

In the past 10 years, Boston teams have won six championships (each at least one) and participated in 11 Finals series. And that doesn’t count the several conference-league finals the Patriots, Celtics and Red Sox have played in and lost.

During that same timeframe, Philadelphia has seen four Finals series– 2004 Eagles (lost), 2008 Phillies (won– that’s still hard to write), 2009 Phillies (lost) and 2010 Flyers (lost). Nothing since, and no playoffs in what will wind up being close to two years, if not more. And, as you know, one championship in 30 years.

Every fucking six months a Boston team is either competing for a championship or in the semifinals. Like clockwork, the sports world always comes back to and centers on Boston, so we can all talk about their townspeople and beards. The Red Sox break an 86-year drought in epic fashion. Bill Belichick creates a mini dynasty, beats the Eagles along the way, and Tom Brady marries a supermodel. The Bruins win a seven-game Finals series with a 400-year-old goalie and then, two years later, get back there after a three-goal comeback in THE THIRD PERIOD of Game 7 of the first round. The Celtics assemble an unlikable Dream Team, win the title, and Kevin Garnett screams into a microphone. The Red Sox bottom out, bounce back, and, of course with their beards and pine tar, are right back in the World Series. THEY’RE ALWAYS IN THE MIDDLE OF SHIT. And if it’s not winning, it’s drama. Aaron Hernandez. EVERYTHING TO DO WITH THE RED SOX. Spygate. Beergate. Gronk’s existence. Doc Rivers and Bill Simmons. You name it, it probably happened in or involves someone from Boston.

Obviously, it’s hard to root against the Red Sox this year, as their World Series appearance comes on the heels of the Boston Bombing. They’re the sentimental favorite, and rightfully so. But fuck if their obnoxious beards and we’re not the Yankees shtick isn’t trying really hard to make that not the case. Hey, Mike Napoli– YOU LOOK LIKE AN ASSHOLE. Salt– Do they really fucking call you that? You’re an insanely mediocre baseball player. You can’t grow facial hair, Shane. Oh yeah, just for good, historic measure, let’s grand slam our way into the Series with a former Phillie hitting one, and Big Papi, who doesn’t age, hitting another, which produced an iconic photo with Boston’s finest throwing his fists in the air in a photo composed by God himself because he loves him some Irish Catholic Bostonians. Oh and now there’s a rainbow and a pot of gold over the fucking Monster? Fuck you all.

I hate sports right now.

Blondie P.I.

A blonde walks into the police department looking for a job. The officer asks her some questions: 

Officer: What's 2 + 2? 
Blonde: Ummm... 4! 
Officer: What's the square root of 100? 
Blonde: Ummm... 10! 
Officer: Good! Now, who killed Abraham Lincoln? 
Blonde: Ummm... I dunno. 
Officer: Well, you can go home and think about it. Come back tomorrow. 

The blonde goes home and calls up one of her friends, who asks her if she got the job. 
The blonde replies excitedly, "Not only did I get the job, I'm already working on a murder case!"



http://www.jokesoftheday.net/

Bring It Home Boys.

• The winter is coming. Fall has taken hold of this locale and dropped the cold air into the region like a crop duster spraying for mosquitoes. I've had to put the heat on! Time to break out the winter and  hooded coats we haven't seen since March cuz old man winter is settling down for his long Winter's nap and has grown a beard too. You think he's a Sox fan?

• We had some excellent rotisserie chicken take-out last night. The Modern Rotisserie is an upscale, gourmet take-out market in Newton, MA that we thought we'd try. The food was excellent! I got a breast and two sides; Mac and cheese (topped with Cheese-It's) and stuffing with gravy. Nothing says lovin like the cozy, delicious gourmet comfort food I had last night. Two thumbs, way up for some take-out !

• Frack is behaving! That boy has been feeling his "Senior-itis" for a few months now and he's quite possibly starting to reign it in. It's about time, too because he's been, shall we say, difficult. Frick was difficult too, but not like him. He's just stubborn. Are girls easier than boys? I'm not remembering her being too difficult. Selective memory, I think.

• I've started the Holiday shop. Now that everyone is older, the gift-buying is getting harder. Everyone has everything they need. I think a family trip is what's needed instead of a bunch of crapola that they don't need. Some team building in a warm destination is the best money spent for this family. 

And finally....

• We live to take the World Series home to Boston, where it belongs. Johnny Gomes...You be da MAN!!! Let's take it one game at a time secure in the knowledge we will see the World Series at Fenway again! Good luck tonite to the Sox and the Nation! Like it said in my Herald this morning: "sleep is overrated.".

I Blame It On Duck Dynasty

Have we, as Bostonian's and members of Red Sox Nation stumbled onto a new phenomenon? It's perplexing to say the least and kinda....

Sexy? 

Suddenly Carny Couture is here in Beantown and it's taken storm of the entire city. "Fear The Beard" can be heard as a resounding rally cry of fans alike and costume stores are joyously stocking up on novelty beards for the Fenway Faithful. But what I'm talking about today is different. Make no mistake there is nothing sexy about a person sporting a fake beard at a baseball game, but a playoff beard, a real burly man beard is another matter entirely. 

The tradition in professional sports of not shaving, thereby producing a playoff beard,  is certainly not something that the Red Sox can lay claim to. It's a time honored tradition/superstition amongst athletes and men everywhere. This year, the beard of Red Sox first baseman Mike Napoli has inspired a facial fashion craze. Napoli has not shaved since Spring Training in March and has what one could call an enviable set of whiskers that could put him at the dinner table comfortably with Sy and the boys. And now my boys are getting into the groove.

My Guy, who is the most clean cut conservative man I know, answered my inquiry into his uncharacteristic five o'clock shadow with, "I'm not shaving until we win the World Series." But the funny thing was not that this was such a departure for him, the fascinating thing was that he was serious about it. My BFF and I texting during last nights game. She texted me:

"ps- Big said if the Red Sox win WS he will grow a beard!!! 10 years together and I've been trying to get him to grow a stache"

Facial hair beware! The Bearded Lady I'll never be, but if these residual beards will help us bring home another World Championship, then I'll live in what's beginning to resemble Duck Dynasty, Louisiana.

After all, the Duck Boats are gearing up for the Victory Parade. 

Overheard at Fenway Paahk Last Night.....

Sorry for the f-bomb. 

Pug Pretty

It's times like these that make me miss my baby girl Jingles: Happy Haloween Jingles.

My baby girl Frankenjingle

These are her furry counterparts:

Pugkin Latte

Wrecking Ball Pug

Chia Pug

Baked Pugtato

AstroPug

Marilyn Pugroe

Puggie The Riveter

The Little Pugmaid

Lord of the Pugs

Deep Sea Diver Pug

Puganna

Bjork Swan Dress Pug

Yoda Pug

Tin Pug

Spock Pug

Darth Pug

Case O' Pug

http://www.buzzfeed.com/mattbellassai/costumes-that-prove-pugs-always-win-at-halloween

Friday's Forum

Happy Friday Bloggers!

So I can keep the focus on my beloved Red Sox this weekend, I thought I would have a forum of sorts to get your opinion on a subject that is way past it's expiry date, but features a hot chick and my Red Sox so it serves my purposes exactly. Around here this subject has been beat to death by sports radio and sports bloggers alike, so lets see what you think. 

This is Erin Andrews of ESPN interviewing Mike Napoli after Game 3 of the ALCS when he hit a game winning home run off Justin Verlander. Watch this :14 second clip and decide if she's got Bieber Fever or not. You may have to play it back a few times. 

Andrews tweeted after a fan asked:

Erin Andrews        ✔ @ErinAndrews

My lord..people are unreal RT @NDisch: “@pvdj: @ErinAndrews did you almost say Justin Bieber instead of Verlander in post game interview?”

8:04 PM - 15 Oct 2013

and one minute later tweeted:

Erin Andrews        ✔ @ErinAndrews

If u really think I have Bieber on my mind, then u are soooooo right #sarcasm

8:05 PM - 15 Oct 2013

Andrews denies the error and sports media types are saying she did it and is making it worse by denying it. She's being lambasted for the controversy.

I say, WHO CARES? I bet if Joe Buck did it the world would laugh it off and make a huge parody of it that would go viral on YouTube. But Erin will suffer quietly because in their eyes she doesn't belong there and "see?? She just proved it."

Tell me what you think in the comments section!
Have a great weekend and be careful what you say in mixed company, Bloggers.

Oh The Nerve!

Holy mother....

I have a pinched nerve in my shoulder and DANG! if it isn't killing me!!! The pain is effecting every little movement I make, too. I can't sleep, I can't sit comfortably and when I walk the weight of my arm puts pain and pressure on the nerve! 

I have no idea how this happened either. It's not like I was working out, cuz I was just on vacation and I can tell you that working out was not a priority on this vacation. It started on the last day of my Florida get away at the base of my neck. I thought I had tied my bathing suit top too tight for my neck, so I loosened the knot. Nothing happened. In fact the pain then traveled down my neck to my shoulder blade and has resided there ever since. 

The kicker? I can't put my shoulder bag (my most prized personal accessory) on my shoulder or carry it on that arm. So I may have to resort to a more sensible bag, which is a fate worse than designer death. I've even begun to sound like an old woman, grunting and wincing with the pain. Even my dog has shot me a look or two when I whimper like a kitten trying to roll over on the sofa. It's been a steady diet of Advil since Sunday, which can't be good either. 

Is this what getting old is like? 

Someone just recommended a Lidocaine patch for the back area where the nerve is. At this point I'll try anything because the hot tub and the heating pad just ain't cutting it. I'm not sure how long I should wait to see a doctor as this is day 5 and it doesn't seem to be getting better. And I'm telling you right now, I ain't got no time for this!

One thing I know for sure? This injury is definitely getting on my last nerve....

And So It Begins...

If you ask me, I would have to say that this is the most wonderful time of the year. No doubt, it's definitely the best time of the year to be a Boston sports fan. The city is abuzz with all our teams, but none more than our beloved Red Sox. Forever the Fenway Faithful, young and old in this city proudly wear their Red Sox gear as they go through daily life these days. Conversations in the supermarket checkout lines about Grand Slams and walk off home runs take place between the most unlikely and everyone knows what a ground rule double looks like. The biggest question asked is did you fall asleep or did you stay awake to see them win?Baseball in October doesn't get any better when our boys are playing and you can feel the fever the moment you step foot anywhere in this city.

Then there's My Tommy and the Patriots. Take for example Sunday night on my Jet Blue flight home to Boston. Our 5pm departure set up the perfect viewing for the 4pm game against New Orleans. Alone in my headphones, I was quietly wincing and cheering throughout the game and even switching channels when it got too frustrating to watch. But everywhere around me had the game on too; every other seat or even every seat was watching the events play out on their TV's and I was never more than a glance away from the action. It's how I figured out that the Pats got the ball back with a minute to play, one touchdown away from winning the game. And one should never count My Tommy out in that situation.

We were squirming, and praying and then the amazing pass into the end zone to win the game happened and the ENTIRE PLANE erupted in cheers. It caught me off guard because I had been so engrossed in my own headphone and monitor that I had forgotten that a few hundred other people were watching it too. There we were together, cheering our team's exciting victory, united if only for a moment hundreds of miles up in the sky above the clouds.

And that's what it feels like.

The camaraderie and connection we feel to these few players who we can call our own make us proud to wear the colors. Together we can feel good about the events of the game and if only for a moment we are one. United in sport and our love of the game and united in the place we call home.

And so it begins....and so far, it's been one hell of a ride!

I'm Outta Here...

Sorry bloggers...but I'm off like a prom dress.

As of 3 PM today I am officially on mini vacation, and boy do I need it. I'm headed on a trip with my two bestest girl friends to a sunny Floridian destination for the rest of the week.This trip couldn't have come at a better time too. I think a bit of Vitamin D will do me some good!

I will be gone from today, Wednesday October 9th, 2013, till Sunday, Oct 13th 2013. I will return to the bloggersphere on Tuesday, Oct 14th, 2013. And I'm sure you won't miss me... what with all the whining and crying I've been doing lately.I promise a dose of BFF fun and some relaxation are going to recharge my battery.

Take care of each other while I'm away bloggers, and try not to whine and cry...

I'll try not to as well while I'm sipping on my frozen drink, poolside.

Have a great week!

Monday Morning

Ughhh. Monday...

If you ask me Sunday is the greatest day of the week.
But not yesterday. Sunday is my only day of the week to power down and re-charge my battery. But not yesterday.

Yesterday sucked.

Yesterday was right up there with one of the worst days of my life. Top five for sure.
What I learned:

• I'm not superwoman.
• I have to ask for help because I need it.
• I'm fooling no one but myself and I'm not even fooling myself, which means I suck at that too.

So here it is Monday and I'm completely depleted of any optimism or freshness. I'm stuck here in hell and I need to get out. I'm feeling like I'm waaay back at my opponent's 5 yard line and there is not a receiver in sight. Do I take the sack or do I take my ball and get off the field? Neither option is going to give me any relief. And the kicker? It's a gloomy, misty, cold Monday morning. Not even a dose of vitamin D to get me going. 

Why bother?

Anyone seen my mojo? Let it know I'm lobbing a Hail Mary to the end zone and I'm going to pray it gets caught. 

Friday Funny

Happy Friday Bloggers!

Ya, I got some serious swag today cuz I'm going to game one of the ALDS at Fenway! It's about time too, I have only been to one game all season. Go Sox! Let's hope they have some dope ass swagger like my little friend here. BEST PART: his cookie monster hat!!

Have a great weekend bloggers and try and get your swagger on!

Mean Old Mrs. Reeves...A Re-Post

I wrote this one back in 2011, but it still stands true today.

I had this third grade teacher who was just plain old mean. I'll never forget the bitch because I think my eight year old self might have taught her a lesson.

She was the kind of teacher that yelled...a lot. We were petrified of her and if she was nice to you, you strove to keep things that way. Nobody wanted to be on Mrs. Reeves' bad side. She was teaching us our multiplication times tables and she would shout out randomly, "Candy, what is 5 times 6?" She gave you all of two seconds and if you didn't know the answer in a mili-second she would ask someone else. I swear, I still can't call those multiplication times tables to mind quickly because I was traumatized by her back then.

Well, the end of school came and it was the second to last day of school. We had field day, when all the classes competed against each other for ribbons in stuff like the egg toss and tug of war. I think it rained on our field day, because it was in the school gym. We were in a single line, passing by the library for our treat, a big m&m cookie, when I tripped over my untied shoe lace and skinned my knee.

Mrs. Reeves, being the bitch that she was, yelled at me and sent me to the nurse for a band-aid and told me in an exasperated manner that she would get my cookie and put it on my desk. Off I went to the nurse who gave me some TLC and a band-aid and I was sent on my way. When I returned to the classroom, everyone was laughing and sharing in a celebration with punch and cookies. There was no cookie on my desk. So I went up to Mrs. Reeves and quietly asked her if she had gotten me a cookie.

For whatever reason this set her off, and she hailed a barrage of screaming at me that literally caused wind burn on my face. I was mortified, embarrassed and pissed off at this injustice. And I was fed up with her. She told me to go sit at my desk and as I walked over to my chair, instead of sitting, I slammed the chair as hard as I could into the desk and I took off!!

Eight years old and I was free!!! Free of that rotten bitch Mrs. Reeves and free out the door of the school. I was going home. I wasn't going to take her abuse for one more second. I think I might have been laughing as I ran up the street towards home, but I felt good knowing that I had taken a stand against mean old Mrs. Reeves.

I kept going, triumphant in my quest to get home, until I saw our school Principal's car pull up beside me. Now if you think Mrs. Reeves was a bitch, then Ms. Hadelski was Osama Bin Laden and I knew I was screwed. Panicked, I began to run faster but she caught up to me, except she wasn't mean at all. In fact, she was nice. She told me that we needed to talk and that she would love to give me a ride back to school.

So I went with her, all the while, talking. She was calm and clear and not at all threatening. But I was ready for her and old Reeves, fists clenched. When we got back to school, I sat in her office while, get this, Hadelski got me a cookie and some punch. She never called my mom and I got into no trouble. She told me I didn't have to go back into my classroom if I didn't want to and I didn't want to.

When school was over, I went home on the school bus and awaited my punishment because by now I figured my mom had been called. But she never said a word. How could this be? My mom never brought it up and neither did I. I went reluctantly back to school, the last day and Reeves was waiting for me when I got there like a predator waiting for her prey. She took me out into the corridor and began yelling at me about how dangerous my behavior was, blah, blah blah. She asked me if I had told my mother about what happened, and I was silent. I think I was paralyzed with fear because I couldn't speak, but what that bitch did next was unforgivable.

She grabbed me by the arm, hard, and began demanding that I answer her. All I could feel was pain in my arm from where she was squeezing me, and instinctively I kicked her as hard as I could in the shin, multiple times, until she released my arm. At this time other teachers in other classrooms came out to see what the commotion was in the hallway and there we were, standing with heaving breath and red faces looking at each other.

Reeves went back into the classroom and so did I. She never came near me again, and the rest of the day went peacefully. I was kind of a celebrity with the boys and I enjoyed a pleasant last day of school. I thought for sure I would be in trouble when I got home, but my mom never said a word about it. They never told her.

Looking back, I think I know why. Reeves was an abusive teacher and she had been a problem throughout the year, and not just with me. I think I was the only one to stand up to her, me in all my eight year old bravado. I never saw Mrs. Reeves again, but I will never forget her.

I'm sure some where in the depths of her mind she will never forget me either. I took a stand against her abuse and she messed with the wrong kid.

Of that, I am certain.

Wednesday Whoa..

I'm um....

I think?

If I were sitting on the sofa with Joan Rivers and Kelly Osbourne, I would have to say that this:

Is possibly thisclose to a MAJOR  fashion moment. Almost, but not quite.

Death Row Dinner

If I was to face the firing squad tomorrow, I would have no problem choosing my final meal.

Without question, it would be my very own spaghetti and meatballs. Nothing spells lovin like a heaping plate of awesome. Growing up, my mom's recipe was a sure thing to bring us all home, together at the table for mom's spaghetti and meatballs. I have since perfected the recipe and now they all come home for my brand of spaghetti love. It's the kind of dinner that everybody is dreaming about all day. I could never share the recipe here. Sorry, but then I'd have to kill you-as this treasured concoction has been handed down from mother to daughter and will continue from mother to daughter. It's a sacred bond.

Electric chair tomorrow? What would be your choice?