It is not presently important how the author came to possess a Leisure Card of both former Reds right-hander Mario Soto and Grammy-nominated R& or B recording artist Al B. Sure. What is important is that these cards may be arranged in such a way so as to give the impression that Mr. Soto is about to heave the ball at an unsuspecting Mr. B. Sure. Please observe …
Note two things: First, that the author’s moron’s feeding table serves as our backdrop and, second, that the author couldn’t even be bothered to take a decent photograph with his dolt’s telephone.
After that note that Mario Soto is throwing the ball at Al B. Sure. Sure, Al B. looks self-impressed right now, what with his album sales and Wikipedia entry of Cistullian breadth, but what happens when Mario Soto hits him in the neck with a baseball? What then?
When Sartre called us “useless passions,” he wasn’t talking about this, that’s for damn sure.
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