It is yet April. I know. But the confidence limits have narrowed, and loom like Scylla and Charybdis. I can state with some certainty that this San Francisco Giants season will prove to be the worst since 1996, and perhaps even as bad as the Frank Robinson-led squads of ineptitude from the mid-1980s. And all this, dear reader, if you still exist, is the fault of Pedro Feliz.
- Pedro Feliz will flail at sliders twelve feet outside the strike zone until he dies.
- Pedro Feliz cannot advance to third a runner on second with nobody out.
- Pedro Feliz was instrumental in the politically motivated firing of several U.S. Attorneys.
- Pedro Feliz looks at the toilet paper every single time he wipes his ass, even the first time.
- Pedro Feliz is self-righteously indignant that the hoi polloi failed to recognize Joshua Bell playing violin at the L'Enfant Plaza Metro stop in DC.
- Pedro Feliz finds ethnic cleansing "soothing."
- Pedro Feliz has three nipples and smells like fetid bongwater.
- Pedro Feliz is preventing our troops from receiving adequate body armor.
- Pedro Feliz wants to name his son Cody.
- Pedro Feliz has a Chinese character tatooed on the small of his back. He believes that it represents "strength."
- Pedro Feliz refers to Zinfandel as "Zin" and Cabernet as "Cab."
- Pedro Feliz wishes he were a woman so that he could have an abortion.
- Pedro Feliz is a single-stranded RNA retrovirus.
- Pedro Feliz arranges his pubic hair into cornrows.
- Pedro Feliz was totally trying to get with your significant other the other night. Seriously. I saw him. He was really, like, skeezy and shit. He was all, like, "I really think you have amazing eyes," and when he was told about you (you know?) he totally didn't care. He just kept on giving a really sensual massage and surreptitiously adjusting his awkward erection.
