Well...I'm back!
After my last attempt to restart this place on September 23, 2011, I had a bit of a breakdown. My doctors advised me to take a trip and get my mind off things for a while. Particularly politics. So I threw a dart on a map of the world and made up my mind to go there. What happened over the course of the next two months changed my life forever.
I arrived in Mozambique with nothing more than a duffel bag and a pack of smokes but within three days I pretty much found myself to be ruling the country. The doctor said to find something that would give my life meaning. So I decided to teach the locals how to play wiffle ball. The plan was to build a team from scratch and teach them well enough to land a spot on the prestigious World Wiffle Ball Championship Tourney. I almost succeeded.
The Mozambique Mud Eaters (starters)
from L-R, Zilda, Pappy Ringo, Lil' Meep, Whistlin' Beekwi, Hirita "Hayworth" Zoogmar, Crazy Carl Agbayani
My team was hard working, driven, patient and above all else, to my astonishment, murderous. They drilled, they studied plays, they were on time and they could throw and hit like their lives depended on it! And it did, as the beatings were frequent and unrelenting. But a team was formed and my mind was free. I no longer fretted about the unmitigated disaster the Obama administration brought upon my country back home.
It was all going well and flights were being planned to the championship when Lil Meep was found dead one humid Mozambique morning. They blamed it on me but I think it was obvious Whistlin' Beekwi wanted that short stop position from day one. From DAY ONE!! Anyway, the team broke up. I was given clearance to return home by my doctors.
All was not lost as most of the wiffle ball bats were cut up and used as fashionable jungle accessories for their hideous facial piercings... Plus I learned a great deal about team-work, organization and beating people with a stick so hard my shoulders would hurt for days.
Oh, And love. I learned to love.
Outfield alternate Big Moog with Wiffle Ball bat handle sticking out of his face. Pictured with Assistant coach Mike Stanton of the NY Yankees
Oh wells... Mozambique's loss is the Big Feed's gain. Let's rock.
Yours,
Ali
After my last attempt to restart this place on September 23, 2011, I had a bit of a breakdown. My doctors advised me to take a trip and get my mind off things for a while. Particularly politics. So I threw a dart on a map of the world and made up my mind to go there. What happened over the course of the next two months changed my life forever.
I arrived in Mozambique with nothing more than a duffel bag and a pack of smokes but within three days I pretty much found myself to be ruling the country. The doctor said to find something that would give my life meaning. So I decided to teach the locals how to play wiffle ball. The plan was to build a team from scratch and teach them well enough to land a spot on the prestigious World Wiffle Ball Championship Tourney. I almost succeeded.
My team was hard working, driven, patient and above all else, to my astonishment, murderous. They drilled, they studied plays, they were on time and they could throw and hit like their lives depended on it! And it did, as the beatings were frequent and unrelenting. But a team was formed and my mind was free. I no longer fretted about the unmitigated disaster the Obama administration brought upon my country back home.
It was all going well and flights were being planned to the championship when Lil Meep was found dead one humid Mozambique morning. They blamed it on me but I think it was obvious Whistlin' Beekwi wanted that short stop position from day one. From DAY ONE!! Anyway, the team broke up. I was given clearance to return home by my doctors.
All was not lost as most of the wiffle ball bats were cut up and used as fashionable jungle accessories for their hideous facial piercings... Plus I learned a great deal about team-work, organization and beating people with a stick so hard my shoulders would hurt for days.
Oh, And love. I learned to love.
Oh wells... Mozambique's loss is the Big Feed's gain. Let's rock.
Yours,
Ali
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