Three Letters: W, T, and F

You've got to be f'n kidding me, right? No, really, somebody better have staged that game, hacked into my satellite dish, and blocked me from watching the REAL game. I don't know who would have done it, and for their sake I better never find out because it WASN'T FUNNY!

This isn't April! I know it's cold and rainy like April, but it's freakin' September! Wake should have not only gotten his 200th career win a month and a damn half ago, but he should have been up to Red Sox career win #193. Damnit. Just damnit.

Seriously, universe, you're lucky I had key lime pie for breakfast. Had I not, you'd be facing one angry me right now. Angrier, actually. The delicious limey flavor cooled the anger a bit. Damn you, bullpen! Bless you, pie.

If Tim gets denied one more time, I honestly believe two things will happen: 1) My face will violently implode, 2) Ryan will be so terrified that HIS face will implode. We don't really want two imploded faces, DO WE, bullpen? No, we don't. So cut the stupid shit! I want wins, damnit, and I want them now!