Making Payroll
Thursday, 16 June 2011 13:23
Well, things are moving, people. Frank Frackin McCourt now can't make payroll!? What's next, volunteers manning the parking lot booths?!
Keep moving, keep thinking, we've got our best people working on this. With a little determination (and a lot of money [don't think I don't know how much frackin money this is gonna frackin take {I know, trust me, I know}]).
It could be upwards of a billion dollars, but with the aforementioned financial troubles destined to continue this news actually works in our favor. Five hundred million might be enough to dangle before Frackin Frank and his fracken estranged wife Frackin Jamie Fracken McCourt and have them leap at the opportunity to take more of LA's money just to skip town like the low-down, no-good, foul-mouthed, weak-kneed, carpet-bagging, beady-eyed (him not her) hobbledehoys they are.
Then all we have to do is convince 16 of those frackin other Frackin Owners to let the people of LA, the Dodger Faithful, Dodgertown denizens, the ones, you know, who pay all the frackin bills by buying frackin expensive beer and getting reamed at those fracking parking lot booths and pay for tickets in those frackin sweet new seats that cost so much to frackin install. It's all fracked up, people; it's totally fracked up (and, yeah, I'm not sure if I should've put a fracken semi-colon there [what the frack is it with semi-colons!?]) and we're the frackin clowns that are going to do something about it.
Who's with me!?!?!