Lawyers, Guns and Money

"Not too many guys can pitch all out like that right after eating a big Chipotle burrito," Greinke told Big Donkeys. "I know Gobble wouldn't have made it through six full innings tonight."

We have Game Notes from last night, and we were in rare form. Now that we look back at our scribbles, it might even be necessary to edit/tone down some of the notes before we publish them for the world to see. First, though, we've got some obligatory politics to address.

Congrats to Hillary on becoming president of West Virginia. We guess the mountaineers and moonshiners didn't buy that jive about Obama not being a muslim/terrorist (obviously).

Let's see if we've got this right. Hillary is president of white trashers, Mexicans and old women. Obama is president of blacks and young eggheads. McCain is president of old mavericks. And Dubya is president of the patriotic Applebees crowd that is presently ruining America while obliviously ordering another round of hot poppers. Right? OK. Whatever.

In walks the village idiot, his face is all aglow. He's been up all night listening to Mohammed's radio.

Is Hillary going to run as an Independent?

Everybody's desperate, trying to make ends meet. Work all day, still can't pay the price of gasoline.

What we want to know is who's getting the Chinese Take-Out vote?

I saw a werewolf with a Chinese menu in his hand, walking through the streets of Soho in the rain. He was looking for the place called Lee Ho Fuk's, going to get a big dish of beef chow mein.

Big Donkeys likes Hot Chicken or Hot Beef with peppers and oninons.

Send lawyers, guns and money to get me out of this! (Or Ramirez, Nunez and Soria.)

Don't it make you want to rock-and-roll?

OK. Here are your (live) Game Notes:

Don't try this at home.

TPJ and Gathright batting back-to-back is like sending out the armies of Luxembourg and Albania to fight off the German Luftwaffe.

Tomkins Industries is going to be a crucial part of this game.

Greinke gets serious! Sit down Pudge!

Little looper to right by the Big Honky.

Will the Royals ever learn plate discipline?

Are we ever going to get our stimulus check from Dubya? We want our $600 dollars!

Another Sixth Inning Slam denied. Somebody punch those two guys in the Sonic commercial.

Brother just texted: "the police!" (We immediately feared the worst based on past experiences, but then we remembered he was going to the Sprint Center.)

We could all use just a little synchronicity right about now.

Robertson with something like 85 pitches thru 7 innings, even though he doesn't have great stuff at all. Way to make him work. It's not like the Tigers have a crappy bullpen. And this is a small strike zone!

Give us something to believe in. (We think that's a hair band lyric.)

Denny talking about Musial and the Cardinals. Geez.

Now Bob Davis with Stan the Man recollections. And Ramirez walks two. Cue Tompkins Industries.

Leo is a great name for a dog. Way to go Leo!

Guillen. Nice. C'mon Donkey.

Walk. C'mon Teahen.

Whatever works! 3-2 Royals.

Soria in to complete the lawyers, guns and money trilogy.

Winner, winner. Chicken Dinner! Had'em all the way, people. Now somebody call us a cab to take us from the kitchen table to the couch.

P.S. This blog is GREATLY influenced by whatever we're drinking and listening to on any given game night. It's like a junior high science experiment, and we have happily discovered that saki (sake?) and Warren Zevon combine to make something resembling plutonium.