Boston is clotted with bloody rage and drenched with a pissy mood. While Bostonians could have chosen any number of things to pride themselves on: Revolutionary US history, high proximity to the best East Coast breweries, gay marriage, an aquarium, the closest thing to universal health care in the part of the United States that's outside of San Francisco, over 100 colleges and universities, a public transport system that takes you to Cape Cod, anti-war protesters and rich folk on Beacon Hill,
Bostonians have chosen one thing upon which to pride themselves: the Red Sox. And now Tampa stole that. Tampa stole Boston's bride. Watch out Tamp-ons, Bostonians are going to dress up like everglade alligators and, under the cover of darkness, toss you overboard into the Gulf, where you'll float around in the gulf stream in circles for awhile, until a hurricane comes and blows you like cotton in a desert hurricane. That's right, the desert! Where you'll be roasted toasted by the Rays of the sun. And then Fenway will have the last laugh, you'll see. You'll see. Watch out for the Green Monster. He's comin' ta getchya!
Shit, I don't even care about sports and look what's happened to me after only a month of being here. Time to open another Sam Adams.
Or another Cocktail!
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