Note to self: When your crazy friend from Arkansas contacts you and says, “Hey let’s go out somewhere and watch the Sox game,” what she actually means is, “Hey, let’s go see Lester toss around some awesome and drink Pabst beer until our heads buzz and we start getting coded messages from Don Orsillo in our onion rings and see robots on Comm Ave.” This is the sort of behavior that invariably leads to the dreaded Friday hangover and, worse, a brutal beating at the hands of several robots.
So while we originally planned a new installment of everyone’s favorite NESN drama, Youk and Lowell: Cops With Guns, you will, unfortunately, have to settle for a summer repeat in the fall. Because my brain is still afloat on a river of Pabst. Just like Jimy Williams’.
So here it is, in all its repetitious glory. And I gotta say, I think it’s the sort of programming that NESN should seriously pursue for the offseason (we stand ready to surrender the rights. For a small fee involving me, Heidi Watney, and a cabin stocked with whiskey and latex). Tell me this wouldn’t be a hit. Damn it, look me in the eye and say that you wouldn’t want to watch a show starring Youk and Lowell as cops, with Lowell as the grizzled, wizened veteran and Youk the hot tempered, trigger-happy rookie.
You can’t. Because you would.
I promise a new Special Playoffs Edition next week. And will be back throughout the day, liver willing. In the meantime, feel free to pledge your allegiance to me and Denton at the SG facebook page. Because together, we can beat the Communists. I really believe this.
Youkilis! Lowell! Get your asses in here!
Didn’t I tell you two to lay off the Tandini case? Didn’t I?
Yes, sir, but–
And didn’t I tell you that if I caught either of you two lunk-asses drinking on the job again, you’d be on a southbound train to Shitsville?
Well, you did, sir. But–
And didn’t I say whatever the f–k you do, don’t get caught setting off twenty metric tons of explosives in Boston Harbor just to impress some hookers.
I have an explanation, sir, and it’s–
I oughta run you two out of here on a rail. But instead, I’m giving you both promotions! Now get the hell outta my office.
Well, that’s that. Time to get shit-tay! ::starts doing obnoxious “white-guy” dance as audience applauds:: [NOTE: I see this catch-phrase becoming a “Whatchoo talkin’ ’bout, Willis” for a new generation. T-shirts, coffee mugs, telescopes… the sky’s the limit.]
More later. Because I love.