...Sunday Mo Jo...

…get the broom out for cleanin’ apartment after I drink this here Mo Jo…and Met fans are doing the same as they prepare for Sunday’s sweep of the Yanks…not as thirsty as other Sundays, but I am thirsty for seeing the Yanks at least play respectable baseball…talkin’ ‘bout respect, you can’t handle respect…I think that’s how it goes…respect isn’t something Aretha Franklin would get from Roger Clemens if she were a Yankee…defending Roger Clemens for not going on road trips with the team when he’s not pitching is like defending Allen Iverson for not showing up for practice…no, Tiger Woods doesn’t show up for every tournament…but he doesn’t have teammates…George Bush only shows up when he pitches too…but when he doesn’t show up, things get done, progress is made…when he shows up for speeches and such, he increases his status as the worst president ever…however, Roger Clemens is one of the best pitchers ever…so if he’s claiming it’s all about his Yankee troops, then he’d be there every game…but that’s not the case…he ain’t got no respect for the pinstripes…not Torre, not Rivera…or Jeter, and not the history…unfortunately, as a Yanks fan, I want to see Jeter and company…wait…I mean, I want to see the Yankees win another World Series…so when Roger is on the mound, I will be rooting…not a great Mo Jo here…but it’ll do the job as far as washing down my supper…a large chocolate milkshake and large fry from McDonalds…I was sitting there…no…there…and the craving for ice cream and salty potatoes emerged…so I satisfied that craving, came back from Donald’s shack, and watched the Yankees avoid the broom…for the future, I promise I will avoid that trend called sleeping…for the sake of better Mo Jos…but for now I’m gonna pound what has turned into a salty shack, and finish this Sunday’s Mo Jo…