1.) Two BILLION dollars for a baseball team? As my friend pointed out: that's $7 for every person in the US and 35 cents for every person in the world.
2.) The DODGERS? I like that name! Dodging this and that, the curve balls of life, the fastballs of bills. I AM a Dodger! Artful even...
3.) Charles Dickens: Created the character Artful Dodger who led a team of young ruffians in "Oliver Twist" under the tutelage of Fagin.
4.) Fagin was a thief who trained boys to steal. In modern terms he was either disenfranchised or an entrepeneur.
5.) Fagin did not believe in banks. Much easier in 19th century London I suppose.
6.) I do not believe in BIG banks; I would rather be robbed by dirty urchins. Or actually not robbed at all.
7.) I'm pretty sure my/our tax dollars went to bailing out the big banks that are:
8.)Funding the billionaires who are purchasing the Dodgers which means:
9.)Ergo: We own the Dodgers.
Congratulations! We own a baseball team! I kind of wish we could have spent all that money in a different way. But whatevs - we can't say what the banks do. Just demand some box seats.
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Steve Kenny
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Comments
Anyway, given the dangers of going to the LA ballpark these days, I'm not sure it's a good idea to claim those seats. Wish we'd bought the Phillies instead . . .
`
Sit under a banana tree.
That safer than nut tree.
I hope you are in shade.
I feel like rereading Oliver T.
I'll reread Pearl S. Buck `gin.
The Good Earth. I love Pearl.
No offer a 'pearl' to a editor.
He may stomp on it as a sow.
He 'ought' to consider a hoe.
Agrarian soils isn't bile dirt.
Bile is within creep snoops.
When they open mouth, gag.
Politicos come dressed fancy.
Call editor etc., either fool,
disturbed, different: both?
`
If he sets up a 'Kiss-Booth' . . .
Please. Call 9-11. Go away. . .
Tell him to call `1-800-273-
TALK
(8255)
Ponder
Read Con Chapman's book.
`
The Year Of The Gerbil
`
or
`
The Kama Sutra? okay.
My Mom said call IRS.
They check if dishonest.
`
I think this is `on topic.
In little league I was a
Dodger.
I Played.
I quit after the Pony League.
I (still) dream I slid into Home.
Honest.
I skinned.
My left leg calf hurts post-slide.
I get amazed how we remember.
Toss a editor a bowl of ice scream.
Pistachio.
Toss curse.
Knuckle ball.
He sit in plate.
Toss bean ball.
Throw lima beans.
Maybe editor's kind.
Buy him a rubber duck.
He reminds me of a loon.
There is nothing rational about the Yankees.