Sell Me Some Access

There was a bidding war for my services once.

Okay, technically it was more of a catfight than a bidding war, but I guarantee you it was fierce.  I was in college at the time, and I somehow duped two girls into believing I was A-list boyfriend material.  A gnarly girlpocalypse ensued.

It was awesome.

Then there was also the time in middle school where, for a small fee of one US American dollar, I would open up my father’s Playboy collection for viewing, all in the name of health and sex education, of course.

But I’ve never been Yu Darvish-ed before.  I mean, I’ve never had a bunch of folks throwing MAD MONEY at me just for the opportunity to negotiate a contract.  I know, I know, it’s hard to believe, but Nolan Ryan has never gone all in on my ass…ets.  My assets.  That’s what I meant to say.

Personally, I cannot WAIT to see Yu Darvish in action.  I’ve been salivating at his proposed Major League entry since the ’09 WBC and now it looks like I may finally get my wish.  Picture a 2012 season with an Adam Wainwright, a Stephen Strasburg AND a Yu Darvish!?!?!?  Somebody douse me with Gatorade!

Meanwhile, if Yu’s people are any good, then they got their Newt Gingrich on before teams put in their final bids.  You know it, I know it and the American people know it: no one sells access like the Grand Old Party.


Oh the Dems do it too.

Ron Paul.  That is all.

And don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.

Peace,

Jeff

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