Savor it: Red Sox Win

Dear Anaheim Angels,

Was the flight home nice?  Is everything ok? Are you as baffled as I am when Mike Scioscia spontaneously turns into the worst manager in baseball when October comes along (Suicide squeeze?, Scot Shields vs. Ortiz? yah!) ?  Does it chagrin you to know that you have about 40 million dollars worth of club options to decide on for next year alone?  Are you going to bring back Vlady, who now runs the bases like a 45-year-old abused circus elephant and has the body language of such too?   How much are you going to sink into K-Rod and Teixeira to prevent them from walking away from that rat-infested garbage heap off the interstate- excuse me, freeway- there?  Are you looking forward to a long off-season in Orange County, land of fake tits and smooth asphalt? Does the pain of getting fucked by the Red Sox lessen over time and repeated penetration? Do you have any advice for the virgin Rays, who are about to get pasted like cheap wallpaper?

John Henry, soaking in the sweet aroma of victory

John Henry, soaking in the sweet aroma of victory

Sincerely, Pepe Lester Lowrie

PS- Dear John Lackey- Get on the plane, go home, and get fucked.  See you on the Golf Course.

Pap Shot!

Pap Shot!

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