Musical Morons

The steamy night air was filled with the sound music....dance music....riverdance music. The melodic morons played masterfully in the Monday night double header. Although a sad symphony in game 2; the music was sweet and low down.

Hold me closer tiny dancer (or should I say GAvocado). I'm picturing him in the 70's, collar up, bell bottoms dinging against those white patent leathers, hand in the air and gold chain around the neck, nestled in a forest of dark chest hair. His leather was good last night, catching everything his way although his steps were not as smooth as earlier days. He was tripped up somewhere between the running man and the moonwalk tumbling to the outfield grass. Spectators called it a jump shot-fade away move. Interesting choice on the softball field.

Whose that girl with the Daisy Dukes on? Oh yea...she was there with those lady humps. Dancing in right field and around the bases, she backed that rump up. Sir-Mix-Alot was salivating from third base, but that could have been from his mouthpiece.

"Drop it like it's Hot." Who doesn't remember that one? The Purple Tiger evidently didn't like her first attempt at a nickname. But the Snoop Dog in her preferred a rapper handle instead. In case you didn't see the first 6 demonstrations she gave the dog pound last night, she will be glad to show you her bionic chronic move.

Wasted Days and Wasted Nights featuring Freddy Fender opened his new gig as pitcher and finally found the strike zone by inning 2. He also found his hamstring was fatally finished running to first base. He could have sang the blues but looked to his buddy Ray Charles for inspiration. Ray.....what happened to the specs? Only Corey Hart can wear his sunglasses at night.

Janet Jackson's rhythmnation tour around the bases was halted to a home run trot, as her idiot brother Tito (spanish for T-roy) waved her home on a grounder back to the pitcher. Poetic Justice was served as Tito was capped in the knee by Tra - Z the American Gangster and her Empire State of Mind.

Siouxsie and the Banshees cheered 'N Sync for Dustin Timberlake but he Cried a River for the wardrobe malfunction on Mrs. Jackson. Randy Travis, On the other Hand hit the ball deeper than the holler and thought it was forever and ever amen, but was coldplayed by Jumping Jack Flash in left field.

Mark Chestnutz was too cold at home so he showed up early In the Ghetto. He realized it sure was Monday in Left Center, and his bud light lime was Almost Goodbye in the dugout.

In the end, the Morons settled for a waltz instead of a two-step. The umpires turned out the lights and the party was over, but the beer was not wasted but warmly tasted. Our Escalante boys will be looking out their back door for us next Monday. So let's carb load on beer, ritas and white queso!


Na Na Na Na, Hey Hey Hey Goodbye!

Tito