The Best of Epic Carnival Series: Hire Jim Essian!

by DCScrap, Our Book of Scrap

Every Wednesday Friday time we remember to do it, we thought we'd give you a little taste of what goes on at the home sites of our many fine writers. Amazingly enough, when they're not here entertaining you at Epic Carnival, they all have Web sites of their own in which they boisterously fantasize about Linda Cohn's sexual prowess express their opinions and display their deranged senses of humor. This way you can get a small glimpse into why they were chosen to be a part of this conglomerate of crazy.

This week's entry comes to us from Hire Jim Essian! ... enjoy!


Can You See Me, Carlos? I’m Pointing at My Balls.
Did anyone else catch the fact that the day after everyone at HJE and Desipio was mocking Cubs “ace” Carlos Zambrano for his frosted tips, he dyed his hair back to brown? Coincidence? I doubt it.

It’s been a day since Zambrano walked off the mound after another horrible outing to a loud chorus of boos from the Wrigley faithful. As Zambrano walked off the field, he pointed to his ear and nodded as if to say, “Carlos Zambrano knows that Carlos Zambrano is the worst pitcher in the starting rotation right now.” After the game, Zambrano went off on the fans.

Zambrano said:

I don’t accept the fans were booing me. I don’t understand that. I think these are great fans of baseball, but they showed me today they just care about them. That’s not fair.

When you’re struggling, that’s when you want to feel support from the fans. I don’t accept it. I just pointed to my head because I will remember it. The great moments of my career will come.

You see this, Carlos? This is me pointing at my balls. Go ahead and remember them. Most of us allegedly selfish fans are making five goddamn figures a year. We spend upwards of $100 to come out and watch you do your job, which you only work, at the most, three hours at a time, 33 days out of the year. And you get paid EIGHT goddamn figures to do your job. In case you’re not good at math, that’s probably about 250 times the salary than most of us selfish meanies make. Most of us are lucky to be able to afford to take the time off work to come watch you play the game we all adore. A lot of us work weekends and late nights just so we can take off early to watch you pitch.

And you know what? You’ve pitched like f*cking sh*t for over a month, and we didn’t say shit about it. You signed your massive contract for more money than most of us would ever dream of having, and you laid a huge f*cking egg during a CRITICAL month for the Cubs. You deserved booing long before you got it, Carlos.

You want support? Perhaps if you didn’t act like an over-excited imbecile all the time, showing up your teammates when they make a bad play and zooming off the mound after routine outs, we self-centered fans would be a bit more supportive of the turds you’ve been laying on the mound. Maybe if you wouldn’t have selfishly run through Mike Quade’s stop sign and gotten thrown out at the plate with no one out yesterday, we wouldn’t have booed so mercilessly.

As it stands, “Big Z,” I’m sick of your act, I’m sick of your mouth, I’m sick of watching you swing for the fences every pitch like you’re Babe goddamn Ruth, and I’m sick of your horrible pitching. I would have booed your underperforming ass if I had to watch your fifth straight loss in this pennant race, too.

From all accounts, I’ve heard Zambrano is a nice guy, a good dad, and a good teammate. And he was contrite about his comments. But I got enough friends.

Put up or shut the f*ck up, Zambrano.