This Tweet in Baseball: I Can Has Cheezburger?

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Professional baseball players get hungry, too, and when they're at their home away from home each spring, they tend to switch from a clubhouse 'gatherer' to a vittles 'hunter'. Some find a single restaurant and stick to it unfailingly for weeks. Others wander the grocery store aisles stalking protein bars. Join me now as we examine the peculiar species as it roams the deserts of Arizona and the swamplands of Florida, sending out 140-charactered electronic dispatches in search of its next meal:

Mark Teahen (or his dog, I'm still not sure who is supposed to be writing these tweets) is pissed that someone ran over his old lady's foot at the Piggly Wiggly. Seriously though, a size 11? You know what they say about chicks with big feet.

Chris Coghlan cares not for your neighborhood rules and regulations. If he wants to char some meats with his Jesus freak friends, he'll do it, consarnit! (Oddly enough, Chris neglected to use multiple exclamation marks in this Tweet)

Either Matt Antonelli's per diem can't cover a $9 burrito on a regular basis or his insides are rejecting the hellish nightmare a constant barrage of pork shoulder, spicy salsa, and pinto beans brings. I guess I just feel bad for Matt's roommate.

Australian import Ryan Rowland-Smith isn't one of those Crocodile Dundee Aussies who sells out and does the whole "that's not a knife" game. Nope, he's more like one of those self-hating Aussies like Heath Ledger that hides his shame behind either hard drugs or a Bloomin' Onion.

Brad Ziegler is either a man after a quality hamburger or trying to get on the board in the Colonel's Scarfing Scribe contest. As an aside, is there any worse compound word in the English language than "lunchmeat"? Can't we all just agree to call them "cold cuts"?

Hippie doofus C.J. Wilson refuses to put any of that processed garbage in his body, maaaaaannnn. No sir, he'll shop at the local crunchy health food store, waste his hard-earned dough, and buy 100% completely natural garbage. Then he'll insult the rest of the clientele. Because he is a horse's patoot.

Either John Baker is referring to Leftovers Cafe, a popular dirty spoon joint in Jupiter, Fla or he's following in the footsteps of Bruce Bochy Bud Black and is embracing the freegan movement.

I don't know who Angels pitcher Rich Thompson is but he seems to enjoy hoagies and grinders made by a former teen tennis sensation. I wonder if that sub shop substitutes oregano with marijuana.

Manic manager Ozzie Guillen has a much more fancy palate than these young, inexperienced, boring ballplayers. When Ozzie's stuck in the middle of a desert for three weeks, he'll do the only thing that makes sense: track down some raw fish.

Lol yessss, indeed.

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Your old lady is your girlfriend/wife not your mom, dude.

Also, CJ Wilson is a wimp for drinking the Synergy Kombucha. That shit is mixed with JUICE! It's only 95% percent Kombucha. Go hard with your microbiotics or go home, fruitcake.


Hey dummy, the tweet was written from the persona of Mark Teahen's fucking dog.

Fucking dog has more followers on Twitter than I do. I NEED TWITTER FOLLOWERS TO VALIDATE MY EXISTENCE.

The bigger question: Why was Angels pitcher Rich Thompson in Delaware? Capriotti's is the favorite sandwich shop of the First State.

Mark Teahen's Dad's name isn't Sam, is it?

That doesn't change the fact that whoever/whatever wrote the tweet referred to their mom and you wrote "old lady" which does not signify someone's/somedog's mother. Changes nothing. Dummy.

Your sorry attempt at correcting me assumes I don't know what "old lady" means, when I obviously do. Really, you're nitpicking something A DOG TWEETED?

You clearly DON'T know what it means and YOU THINK A DOG IS ON TWITTER.

/jams fingers in ears


/child of divorce

/throws plate of spaghetti at wall

/plate slowly falls to floor

Just be glad you don't actually witness our Gchats, my friend. We go so deep that we have to invent insults.

I'm staying at my secretary's house tonight.

I think a live glog of the Red Sox game today would patch things up.

At least we can both agree on our least favorite commenter.

Custody battles would be a real bitch. Neither of them wants to get stuck with me.

Suck it Iracane!!

(who gets the Clooney fathead?)

That's an interesting question, phillas. Would whoever takes the Clooney fathead be admitting that they are, in fact, not the real Clooney?

Nah. It'd be a self-portait, kinda like Minotaur-Rod.

Liakos would totally be the weekend dad, letting all of us play video games past midnight and serving us ice cream out of clean-ish ashtrays. Iracane has "smartly-dressed single workin' mom" written all over him.

I can already picture Kris crawling out the window when the Party Patrol shows up.

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