Roasting the Cubs

I watched the roast of Joan Rivers tonight on TV and found myself thinking in one-liners. So imagine a dais with a bunch of minor celebrities telling dick and gay jokes with me as the Master of Ceremonies:

Good evening. It's great to be here to pay honor to the 2009 Chicago Cubs. Before we get going, I'd like to announce that the Cubs have a new homepage at www.WebMD.com (h/t to Whitney Cummings).

Watching this Cubs team has been like watching the first twenty minutes of "Saving Private Ryan" in slow motion. Aramis Ramirez is still wandering around the clubhouse in a daze looking for his missing arm.

I never thought I would look back fondly on the days when it was only Kerry Wood and Mark Prior getting hurt.

You know your team has problems when the team trainers refer to Rich Harden and Milton Bradley as the healthy ones.

The Cubs are so concerned about more injuries, they've asked the broadcast teams to not be too critical of Aaron Miles because they're afraid he'll have to go on the DL with hurt feelings.

That is actually going to be pretty difficult because Aaron Miles sucks so much that even light can't escape.

Aaron Miles sucks so much that if his baseball talent was converted into money, we would have to invent a way to make change for a penny.

MLB officials recently took a sample of Aaron Miles' blood. They didn't take it to test it for steroids, they took it to synthesize an antidote they can inject into juicers who are caught.

What do we have coming up to look forward to? Jeff Samardzija versus Cliff Lee. Holy shit. The New Jersey Generals have better odds of winning.

Samardzija is like Kyle Farnsworth without pooka shells or a dominating fastball. He has less control than Lindsay Lohan.

The Cubs are contemplating giving him another $10 million to go back to playing football.

None of this would be possible without Jim Hendry, the Bob Vila of general managers. Jim never saw a reclamation project he didn't like. His biggest off-season goal will be signing Dave Dravecky.

Jim Hendry somehow managed to acquire all of Snow White's dwarves' retarded cousins to play second base: Shitty, Crappy, Dumpy, and Stupid. At one point, they had to resort to having Bobby Scales play there. Bobby Scales has been in the minor leagues so long he remembers when they were known as the Negro Leagues.

Most of these guys are so talentless that the Cubs wouldn't even ask them to sing "Take Me Out to the Ballgame."

The Cubs actually only have two people they would never ask to sing in the seventh inning: Kim Jong Il and Steve Stone. Not because the Cubs object to them as human beings, but because their egos wouldn't fit in the broadcast booth.

The only thing in the universe bigger than Steve Stone's love of himself is Geovany Soto's ass.

Speaking of things that stink like shit, we have to be thankful for the other teams in the National League Central. They are so bad they can't even pull away from a team that would have a hard time fielding a healthy squad in the Wheelchair Games.

But we only roast the ones we love and when it's all said and done, we'll always be there for the Cubs because they are in our hearts, like a clot that will surely kill us.

Thank you, good night, and tip your waitresses.