Tuesday, March 25, 2008


Kids rush to get an autograph from the man who’s more important to the U.S. Government than Iraq and Afghanistan, controlling our borders, and children’s healthcare.

At spring training, Roger Clemens has become somewhat of a folk hero for local disenfranchised baseball fans and the retarded.

Clemens stays below the drug tests’ radar by chawin’ on a baboon’s pituitary gland.

Clemens is working out with his son, Koby, who is a minor league catcher. I don’t know if Koby’s on the juice, but it would seem unfair if he isn't.

“How fortuitous to run into you right here, in front of these cameras, Astros team chaplain.”

Notice she says she believes “in” Roger, not that she believes what he’s saying. Even his supporters don’t deny he was getting shot up more than Amy Winehouse.

“I do solemnly swear to be as truthful to Congress as Congress has been to America.”

“I don’t know if I’d call them performance enhancing drugs per se. You remember the mid 90’s?”

“To be fair, this beer can looks like it contains a lot of people’s DNA.”

“I’m going to break your neck, drink the marrow from your spine, and steal all the juice out of your basement.”

“Congressman, my client is using every ounce of his strength to restrain himself from ripping all of us from limb to limb and eating any gland secreting a growth hormone, so I recommend we do try not to provoke him.”

“Would you please sign this poster as an admission of guilt? I’ve already got Pettitte.”

Any man who wears a mock turtleneck in public clearly considers himself above the law.

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