Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Notes on ten years of mediocrity

To recount a decade fixated by the numbers in concert with fancies of time lost in space can be marked, if not often punctuated, by an affliction to that which is currently of sporting event. But sepia tones do brown around the edges as nostalgia weeps the weepy tear. And you ask why and receive a penance beyond reproach through a Congressional hearing under perjury...

So what, pray tell, is in a name?

Hurtus Maximus!
Manny more to come!
ARoids Forever!
Kobe's Beefs
Que Syringe Syringe
¡Viva Canseco!
Sons of World B Free
Oh My Favrian Tears!
Human Growth Hormone
Anabolically Yours
Artificial Turfs
Knee High Tube Socks
Balco Incorporated
Up the Middle
Topical Ephredra Rub
Ephedra Injections
A little dribbly...
Klang! Klang! Klang!
MEN huddled together
Chico's Bail Bonds
considerably smaller
Dick Taters
Ghosts of 1969
Full of Cork
one brick at a time
Between the legs
Cloud of Dust
A Swift Boat
*fling* fling*
A Good Piece of Ash
Ephedra Cocktails
Golden Triangles
Really Tight Shorts
The Moving Pick
A Bag of Chips
Sonjas Heinie
Mister Bouncy Balls
Missus My Balls
a bag of chips
John Goldfarb Inc.
Tiananmen Squares
The Divine Wind
Men's Hair Club
United Hair Lines
On Leong Association
The Would-Be Tacklers
Nation of Islam

Such is pure conceit. Or at the very least, chic silk-screened tee shirts.