Today at Josh's softball game I was noticing the girl to guy player ratio was more than a little skewed in favor of the lesbians. You couldn't swing a dead weiner dog without hitting a lezzie wearing a softball mitt.
Sure there are a few token gay guys on the teams but for the most part, girl power. Craig, I and Alasdair sat quietly on the bleachers carefully averting our eyes whenever one of the the lezbies sauntered by. They can be quite intimidating with their mohawks, scars, tattoos, sharp teeth and crazy eyes.
Once I accidentally bumped into a lesbian outfielder at the drinking fountain. She spat at me snarled, "Watch it pussy boy." I backed away slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements. Her red-eyed Rottweiler strained at the leash wanting desperately to bite me in the larynx.
I've noticed the the umpire's calls always seem to go in favor of the meanest looking lesbians. One pitch was so high it sailed over the batter's head and hit the umpire in the throat. One glare from the lesbian pitcher is all it took. "Steeee-rike," he gurgled, wiping the spinal fluid leaking out his ear.
I say leave the sports to the lesbians. We have more important callings in life such as making music, cutting hair and flight attendant-ing.
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