Ouch!!!!

Oh Mariners, where art thou? Three back with five left. Can I get a little "refuse to lose" from 1995? I think I'm just going to go ahead and stick a fork in 'em.  This year was magical, yo.  My only problem is the fact that it was over before the money-shot.  Kind of like if you meet this chick at the bar, right?  She is okay.  But her body is killer.  The body, that's my metaphor for Robinson Cano. You get this bitch back to the crib, and she is puttin on a show, yo.  Blowin your mind.  Her mouth, oh, her magical mouth....That's the M's bullpen.  So, your scroggin away for 145 games, and it's a dream.  She's screamin, your moanin.  Shit is falling off the shelves. Neighbors are like, get that bitch an Emmy 'cause she's puttin on a show, yo.  But then, the little lady starts looking at the clock, right?  Your all like, "What's wrong baby?" She's all, "My boyfriend freaks the fuck out if I'm not home by 3." Then, she says, "I'm sorry, I gotta go."  Your all, "Wait, I haven't, um, ya know, cum yet." And she says, "We'll cum next year, see ya in spring training." Damn...