First: Let’s talk RemDawg. The guy gets a contract extension from NESN, ensuring that no one will hunger for lack of Remy for the next five years. And this is just fine, because my man-love for Remy knows no boundaries. All it takes is a simple kick around the MLB Season Ticket dial or, god help us, watching a nationally televised game to realize just how lucky we are to have the Dawg. Is there any other media type more widely embraced — or dare I say loved — throughout all of Red Sox Nation? Can you imagine Michael Felger opening a hotdog stand across from Fenway? Friggin’ place would be burned to the ground day one. By me, no less. Need some tickets to “The Dan Shaughnessy All Star Game Celebration”? A Steve Burton bobblehead? How ’bout a Bob Kurtz sweatshirt for your troubles? I didn’t think so. But a goddam RemDawg Sports Bar and Grill? Let me at that shit, toot sweet. Hell, I want more. Give me Virtual Remy, a theme restaurant in which patrons are handed fake moustaches upon arrival, then seated beside animatronic Don Orsillos, so that we actually become Remy for a few hot moments. I would totally pay for that. So get on it, handlers.
In the meantime, thank you, Rem Dawg, for keeping it real. Because in my home, it ain’t springtime until the dulcet tones of “Buenos Noches, Amigos” echo down the halls.
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Tonight, we get David Wells against Mark Buehrle. It’s funny, but ever since Wells’ “he’s messin’ with my cake” comment, I’ve been ultra-perceptive to mentions of “cake” in the popular culture. Because cake is there, man. It’s in “MacArthur Park,” because someone left that shizznit out in the rain. It’s also in Bob Seger’s “Fire Lake,” where Uncle Joe was afraid to cut it. And, of course, Cake sings the classic tune “The Distance,” which can kinda sorta be aligned with Wells’ perfect game. What does it all mean? F–ked if I know. But if you’re heading to the game tonight, do stop by Comicopia, across from the Kenmore T station at 464 Commonwealth Ave. Denton and I will be there from 5-7pm, peddling our book like a couple of crack addicts looking for handouts. Come by and kick us in the nuts. Or, y’know, say hi.
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“Well, the way they make shows is, they make one show. That show’s called a pilot. Then they show that show to the people who make shows, and on the strength of that one show they decide if they’re going to make more shows. Some pilots get picked and become television programs. Some don’t, become nothing. She starred in one of the ones that became nothing.”