Hey, I 'preciate some of y'all asking about me. But first off, let me clear up a couple of things. No, I ain't got busted for DUI... lately. I do enjoy an evening at the Pony, though. Damn straight, atlpaddy.
I ain't been there much in the last few months, what with our financial woes and all. Been a pretty crappy season for me and the Bravos. Pretty well sucked, huh? Tell you what, Mr. Wren ought to go get that Peavy. That son of a gun can throw. And he's a good southern boy that likes hunting and fishing, too. Bring him on.
But by God, don't, do not trade Jurrgenson. He's good. Send them Jeff I-hit-.280-in-September-so-give-me-a-damn-medal. Send them whatever it takes. Just don't give em Jurgenser. Find another pitcher, too, while you're at it, and maybe a damn outfielder.
Man, tough as things has been lately for me and Brenda, I'm feeling kinda relaxed right now. Brenda's out of town trying out for Survivor. I know, I know. Hell, I told her she ain't got a chance, that maybe she ought to try one of them weight loss shows.
Big mistake.
She near 'bout throwed me through a wall. Told me the biggest loser around here was named Duane Shumate.
Anyhoo, I still hope she makes it. If she gets on the show, no matter if they kick her off the island right away, we get 10 large. Ten grand would pay off about a third of our credit card debt. So, what is it them people say, go girl?!
Back to the ball club. I don't see how next year could be any worse than this one. But I think the Braves gotta go with young, hungry guys like Tampa's got. Hell, I just about stacked some furniture the other night with some dude wearing a damn Boston hat. I hope them sumbitches get their ass kicked, like yesterday.
Even though Brenda's gone, I still got to go to my counseling meetings. Dude, personal bankruptcy's a bitch.
--Duane From Forest Park
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