Dear Justin Morneau, or as I like to call you, blank-faced douche lick,
I'm gonna need you to back the fuck up!
I'm "rewarded" with this.
Listen here, Justin...I'm gonna need you to step the fuck away from my Carlos, and I'm gonna need you to do it toot sweet.
I know you play all the way up there in the beautiful frozen tundra that is Minnesota, but let me let you in on a little information. CARLOS QUENTIN IS MINE MOTHERFUCKER!
I was the only guy I knew who was excited when Kenny Williams made this trade, and that was before I knew how fucking good looking CQ was. Just look at him. Christ!
You play one fucking game as his teammate and all of the sudden it's all hugs and fucking kisses! BACK THE FUCK UP! And while you're at it, go back to ice fishing with Joe Mauer, or whatever the fuck you assholes do up there in the north fucking pole!
Carlos and I are together. Carlos and I have something special. Carlos and I are soulmates, AND YOUR FUCKING IT ALL UP!!
BACK THE FUCK UP!
Okay, so in recap...back the fuck up...CQ is all Chicago and all mine. You touch him again, outside of incidental contact on the baseball diamond, and I will skull fuck you and your fucking eskimo buddies. Actually by the look that's usually on your face, you probably can't read, so I'll make this simple.
Okay I think we understand eachother. Thank you in advance for backing the fuck up, and if you're not too busy...BACK THE FUCK UP!
Oh, and Carlos. Don't think I didn't notice this while you were watching Mr. Morneau during the Home Run Derby.
You're sleeping on the couch tonight. Bitch.
The Oral Sox Podcast