Murder 1

An Army of One

2007-10-03T14:07:00.000-04:00

I think it was either John Steinbeck or Maya Angelou who once said, "To survive a war, you have to become a war." Well, that's what I had to become. A war. A god damned war.

The bloody ATF agents bumped me around in their paddywagon for a while and then stopped by some federal installation and threw me into a holding cell. I collapsed like the 2007 Mets and fell to the ground. I started wining like a little baby, and then one of the interrogators came in- he looked liked like a young version of David Caruso.

"I loved you in Blue." I said.

"Fuck your mother!" yelled the Caruso lookalike, as he slapped me across the face.

Then he threw me up against a wall and strapped me into some sort of electric chair. "I hope you like pain, McStallen. Because you are going to be in a world of pain, McStallen, a world of pain." he said laughing gleefully as he walked out.

Well I was in a bit of a tight spot- trapped in a remote, heavily guarded federal compound in America's Pacific Northwest- strapped into some torture chair, waiting for some flunkee interrogator to return- but I hung in there- because that's what you have to do when you find yourself caught in the middle of a vicious cockfight.

Sometime later a young man came down with some food for me. He was visibly retarded, so I started laughing at him. He didn't get the joke. It was only moderate retardation, but it was still pretty damn funny.

"Here's your food, McStallen." he said.

This was my lucky break- the government, showing a sign of weakness, had foolishly employed a stupid retard and charged him with the simple task of bringing food to inmates.

The retard was ripe to be taken advantage of, as are all retards. And blind people too- I'm not sure if they count as retards- but you can take advantage of them, just the same. Hide stuff from them- rearrange the room- leave buckets of paint on the tops of doors and that way when they open the door the paint comes down on them- that sort of thing. Real funny. But anyway, like I was saying, this was my lucky break...

"What- am I on your pay no mind list, kid?" I asked the retard.

"Huh?" responded the retard.

"Where's my machine gun?" I asked the retard.

"Oh you wanted a machine gun- I thought you said you were all right." responded the retard.

"I am all right you mumblin' studderin' prick- but you ain't all right- now get me the damn machine gun!" I commanded the retard.

I was going to ask the retard to get me a shot of my favorite drink- Cosmonaut Vodka- really the only Vodka I've been able to handle since that IRA bomb took out half my colon- but I didn't want to complicate things.

So the retard stepped out for a minute and came back with an M-60 machine gun and several belts of ammunition. He undid my shackles and handed me the machine gun.

Even with the M-60, I didn't have the firepower to take on the whole compound. I figured my best course of action was to duck out the back and then return some time later with superior fire power and have it out with the confounded government. So I opened the side door and began to leave.

"Where are you going?" asked the retard.

"Shopping." I said, as I walked out the door.

Trouble at the Diner

2007-10-01T13:22:00.000-04:00

So I was driving up through the Pacific Northwest in a Greyhound bus, hoping to make it to Canada and then maybe do some sight-seeing- as a child, the great Mills used to tell me stories about the wonderful sites of Canada and its serene beauty- this included the vast wilderness of the Yukon, the Canadian capitol building that Mills was ejected from due to open and obvious intoxication, the wonderful Canadian horse tracks and betting parlors, the multi-cultural strip clubs of Montreal , and the fine art galleries that were filled with beautiful works the Germans had taken during the Second World War. I couldn't wait.

I got off the bus to grab a cup of coffee at a diner in Hope, Washington. There were a couple scruffy looking fellows outside- locals - so I brought in my panzer schreck just in case things got violent. The cashier looked at me strangely when I came in, and said, "I'm sorry sir- but you can't bring that panzer schreck in here."

I spit on her and kept walking.

Once inside, a little boy started staring at me, and mimicing the way I was drinking my coffee. I gave him the look of death, but he continued, unabated. I throat-slahed him with my middle finger.

Then some men starting pointing at me- apparently they identified me as one of the mercenaries who led the raid on New Baumstark. They flagged down a waitress and sent her over to me.

The waitress approached me. "Ma'am, I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave." I said. I figured I would beat her to the punchline, and maybe confuse her a bit. She was not amused.

"Sir, those men over there said you invaded America- I'm sorry but we don't serve your kind of people in this diner. You gotta leave." she said.

She was big and fat, and I was a little scared.

"Look ma'am, I'm just sitting here, drinking my coffee." I said.

"Sir don't make me get rough." said the waitress.

"Oh you want rough? How about I put a panzer schreck round in between your eyes?!" I asked.

At that point she screamed at me and told me to calm down.

"Look, I'm just sitting here, drinking my coffee- I'm perfectly calm." I responded.

"Calm- waving that god damn panzer faust around!?" screamed the waitress.

"Calmer than you are." I said . (I didn't address the fact that the waitress had confused a panzer schreck for a panzer faust.)

"Look sir- you're going to have to-" she started. I was going to interrupt about the Supreme Court roundly rejecting prior restraint, but at that moment our pleasant little debate was interrupted when a half-dozen ATF agents burst into the diner, their Tec-9's trained on me. One of them, who bore a striking resemblance to oft-injured catcher Mike Piazza, said : "Drop the panzer schreck McStallen- you're coming with us."

So here I was just trying to get a god damn cup of coffee, and now the United States federal government comes barging into a PRIVATE establishment and arrests me for NO reason. This was really just a big slap in the face to all the hard work I did in New Baumstark. As they cuffed me and threw me in the back of a Humvee, I prepared myself for the worst, because I knew due process didn't apply when it came to dealing with these savages.

Peace Talks

2007-09-23T19:16:00.000-04:00

We had been slugging it out in the trenches around New Baumstark with the Colorado National Guard for a couple weeks, and a stale-mate developed. We'd make some progress and take a few positions during the day, but then the National Guard would came in like the blasted Cong and took it all back at night. They had some of the best god damned night vision equipment I ever seen. We owned the day, but the Guard owned the night.

So when a guardsman approached our line waving a white flag, we were all ears. He invited us to meet with his field leader, a two-star general Winston, to discuss peace. Ideally I wanted to meet with the president- two stars is peanuts- but with the brutal Colorado winter looming, we were all ears- we wanted to work out some sort of deal and just get the hell out of there.

So I went with commissar Vandernutz to meet General Winston in the town square. Everyone else pretty much scattered so we had plenty of space to talk. General Winston got there first and he waved at us as we got close. Commissar Vandernutz smiled. I could tell the two had met before, and I smelled a rat.

What happened next pretty much eroded all my trust and confidence in communism. And I'm not just saying that to try and sensationalize this blog posting- god dammit, I mean it - I'm still hopping mad about it. So I'll continue-

Apparently the Colorado National Guard was equipped by some American defense contractor, Blackburton or something or other, that was going through some trouble- they were warned of a potential SEC investigation- something about lying on financial statements and misleading investors. Real greaseball shit that was between the management. So they needed a huge increase in earnings, and had employed this Vandernutz to recruit a small army and stage a nasty little mock incursion so that the Colorado National Guard would need to have their supply of munitions, vehicles and equipment doubled in a matter of weeks- the scheme must have netted the defense contractor billions. And it was all done in time so that the contractor could amend its filing to the SEC and avoid a nasty little investigation. Which meant there was really nothing left to be done here. So Vandernutz and the general shook hands while I shook in horror and the two parted ways. The Colorado National Guard moved into New Baumstark, and were told to scram and granted safe passage up to Canada.

But by god I was pissed- Vandernutz, a capitalist in communist's clothing, had scammed us all and started war for the sake of generating a large defense budget- Did you ever hear of such a thing? Can you imagine that- a defense company starting a war just to make money? Well I immediately put Vandernutz atop my list of people to kill, got my knapsack and BAR, and hopped on a Greyhound, destination unknown.

All's Well That Ends Well

2007-08-31T13:02:00.000-04:00

After the nasty little friendly fire incident I ran back to battalion, hopping mad, and determined to make someone pay for all the inane shelling.

I headed for the sand-bagged .88 batteries that we kept next to the hospital and came upon an artillery unit.

"God dammit- Who ordered in all that artillery?! I haven't seen a shelling that bad since Jose Lima was pitching for the Mets!" I screamed.

"What about Gallardo? The Rockies put 11 on him about a month ago." said one of the artillery men.

Well that did it- getting cute with me, and taking a shot at future staff ace Yovani Gallardo. What did Gallardo ever do anyway? I had heard enough. I grabbed the man and held my .45 to his head.

"Now you guys are going to start talking or I'm going to start wasting people! We start with the funnyman!" I yelled at the artillery unit.

The men appeared stunned, but remained quiet. I needed them to start talking.

I cocked my .45 and pressed it on the artillery man's forehead.

"I caca dao VC! I caca dao VC!" I yelled.

The situation grew more and more tense. From one of the watch-towers, Barnes and Elias looked on in disapproval.

"Stay out of this you two- this ain't your fight!" I screamed at them. Elias just shook his head and looked away. Frickin' condescending water-walker.

I was about a split-second away from pulling the trigger when a man in a French military uniform came forward from the artillery team.

"C'est moi." he said.

"You ignorant ass-hole! You killed alot of people with that fouled up fire mission!" I screamed.

I recognized this guy- he was the same guy who accidentally fired on us when were storming the Anthill outside of Boulder about a month back- we lost alot of good men up there.
Well this dog's time had come- I was going to make an example of him. I put a pair of handcuffs on him and told him that I was going to blow him away.

He didn't respond.

Then I drew my .22, and at point blank range fired. The artillery man dropped to the ground, dead.

A medic who heard the gun-shot came rushing out.

"Is everything OK he asked?"

"Yeah we're fine now- just a little flashback." I responded.

I walked back to the barracks to get some sleep. I had been up fighting the whole night- Things had gotten pretty hairy at times, but it looked like everything was fine now and I could finally just lay down and get some well deserved shut-eye.

Night Attack!

2007-08-26T19:24:00.001-04:00

I hopped into a bunker with Procop, Pacman Jones and Commissar VanderNutz and got ready for the attack. We had modest cover- mostly just sandbags. But we could hear them out off in the distance- yelling at each other- it was the whole god damn third division of the Colorado National Guard, and they were about to swarm our positions. They started by probing our positions- they sent up a few scouts, launched a couple flares, and then there was a little small arms fire- just a cromulent distraction. This went on for about an hour or so- maybe longer.

Then around 2100 hours it got quiet- like real quiet- that's when we knew they were getting ready to make their push- one of the guardsman blew a whistle, and the soldiers poured at our positions- they were dressed in full body armor and firing hi-tech XM-8 assault rifles that even the U.S. military wasn't using- plus they a couple unmanned predator drones circling overhead directing their artillery, and dropping snake and nape on our pos. We fired up our remaining flares and the sky was lit up by tracer fire. Our perimeter was compromised almost immediately, but our concertina wire slowed them up real good and made them pretty good targets. I fired my BAR at the wire- burst after burst at those running dogs- just hoping to get some dumb sons of bitches that got swallowed up in it.

We held off their first wave, but then suddenly the bunker next to us went up like a roman candle- must have been a direct hit from a bazooka round- this freaked Pacman Jones out and the bastard ran out on us- I tried to shoot the deserter as he fled, but he dodged my pistol fire and left the battleground. I vowed to get him next time.

Our radio bunker went up next, and then two of the perimeter bunkers- slowly but surely the guardsmen were overcoming our defenses with their bloody bazooka and grenade attacks. Then they ambushed a platoon of Soviet paratroopers that were trying to relieve our position- our reinforcements- they cut the poor bastards to pieces- and that was all we had for relief.

Then, with everyone else out of the way, the guardsmen turned their attention to our bunker.
"Dude- Where'd all these fawkin guardsmen come from?" asked Commissar VanderNutz.

Beats the shit out of me. But the man in the green fatigues- a worthy adversary- was everywhere. Nevertheless, we fought on- hoping for our miracle. And that's what we got- the remaining troops rallied around our bunker and we shot the shit out of their initial assault and stopped them cold. The second wave ran right into our claymores, and sustained heavy casualties. Rather than attack again, they regrouped around the perimeter and began to retreat. It looked like they had had enough for one night. Our men crawled out of their bunkers- many badly wounded- and we started cheering and celebrating. Procop cut his thumb off in joy. It was a great time.

But then our .88 batteries opened up- someone back at battalion decided to saturate the whole perimeter in artillery rounds as a last-ditch effort to stop the guardsmens' advance- they didn't realize that we had already chased them off.

The rounds were hitting anything and everything around the perimeter - then the rounds started coming in even shorter, and some were landing in our interior fortifications- they even hit our supply wagon and elephant train. Appalled, I hopped out of the bunker and grabbed a field radio off of a dead comrade and put a call in to battalion.

"Ripper bravo six- Ripper bravo six- Check your fire! Check our fire! Enemy has retreated! You're lighting up friendlies! " I screamed.

But the message did not get through and the barrage continued for what must have been the longest 20 god damn minutes of my life- seemingly longer than the opening statement in any Sacramento misdemeanor criminal trial on record. So me, Procop, and Commissar VanderNutz buried ourselves in the bunker and hoped we didn't take a direct hit.

When the barrage was finally over, we emerged from the bunker to look at the wasteland around us- the sun was coming up- Eos rhododoctoros - and we were confronted with a landscape of scorched earth, twisted bodies, and obliterated buildings.

Battalion had sent some medics and a dog handler to look through the rubble for survivors.

One of the medics looked at me. "You all right sir? Y'konw, we're real sorry about all that artillery." he said.

"Yeah to you people it's just a game. Well it doesn't matter anyway- your apology is just too little, too late." I said, as I stormed off.

I was going to find out who at battalion gave the artillery order, and I was going to put a bullet in his head.

Una Banana Daiquiri!

2007-08-06T14:02:00.000-04:00

We had heard some rumors bout a band of teenagers roaming around the mountains surrounding New Baumstark, attacking supply convoys in hit-and run assaults. We did not pay alot of attention at first, but then they went over the line and ambushed one of our armored columns.

Ivan was quite displeased with all this, and so he dispatched Pacman Jones, myself, Procop, and a platoon of Cubans into the mountains on a search and destroy mission. We were to locate and engage the guerrillas, and to inflict as many casualties as possible in the hopes of eliminating them as an effective fighting force.

As we proceeded up the trail I spied a large cocktail glass containing a yellow frosted fluid. There appeared to be some sort of detonator cord coming out of the back. "Una banana daiquiri!" I yelled.

But it was too late- our point man, Juan Pablo, heard my scream and tried to jump back, but at that point the daiquiri blew-up and Juan Pablo was blown in half.

We weren't going to fight our way past any more booby traps. We called in some engineers, collected Juan Pablo's remains, and walked back to town, quite dejected. As we headed back into town, Commissar VanderNutz rushed out and greeted us with a profanity-laced diatribe about how we were a bunch of wimps and he we needed to go back into the mountains and finish things off with the guerrillas. We told him we were done for the day, and he shook his head at us, cocked his AK-47, and ran into the brush to flush out the guerrillas on his own. Fool's courage.

We started to relax, but in the distance I could hear artillery fire- Some of it outgoing, and some of it was incoming. And then from the opposite end of town I saw one of our men running- he was one of the Soviet paratroopers who had been out on an ambush- he was badly wounded now, and was covered in blood and bandages.

"Get it together man!" I said, in a spot-on Mills impersonation.

The injured paratrooper did not seem amused. "The national guard- they're everywhere- they're coming right at us- they're right on my tail and they're not stopping for shit!" he screamed.

Then he grabbed a canteen and frantically hobbled off. Worthless deserter. I drew my pistol and proceeded to shoot him in the back as he tried to flee. The yellow-bellied coward dropped to the ground like a ton of bricks. You don't cut and run from a fight- not in my army anyway.

Then I got in one of our bunkers and loaded my BAR- and our troops poured out into our trenches and earthworks to defend the perimeter. I stared off in the distance as nightfall blanketed the horizon in darkness. There was going to be a long night of fighting ahead.

Invasion U.S.A.

2007-07-30T10:01:00.000-04:00

The jump itself was pretty god damn hairy. Things went pretty smooth for most of the trip. But once we hit the Rockies we started taking flack. A couple transport aircraft went down, and several others took heavy damage. A glider flying right next to me carrying two-dozen highly trained Moscow circus bears took a direct hit from a stinger and went up like the a roman candle. Poor bears- never even knew what hit them. But by the grace of Lenin, my plane made it through all that and we were ready to jump at 1200 feet. I jumped next to my old buddy Crotop the Moldovan Bear- a former Soviet paratrooper, I knew Crotop would look after me on the jump. He packed my chute, checked my oil, and I was good to go. I told him to save the reach-around until after we hit the ground, and he agreed.

The jump itself was fine- Crotop fired a bazooka round while in free fall- the round slammed into the broad side of a barn and blew the crap out of it. Got the hen house as well, and badly damaged the pigeon coup. Our spotters said some shrapnel even landed in the pig pen. That was the only bazooka round Crotop had with him, but he got the most out of it. Some would argue that he should have saved the round for something more threatening- such as an enemy tank- but dammit you only get so many chances to blow up captive enemy livestock while free falling- you have to take your shot when you get it.

Once we landed we had to secure our four drop zones for re-supply. We managed to hold onto three, but the blasted Colorado National Guard over-ran the fourth one. We had to fight tooth and nail up a ridge to our objective, but finally made it to New Baumstark, a sleepy and creepy Colorado town with a vital bridge that we had to capture.

After several days of fierce fighting, we captured the town and the bridge. Comrade Commissar Vander Nutz, our propaganda minister, commandeered the library and demanded they burn all their books as well as any handicapped individuals. The librarians were a bit puzzled, but complied. We enlisted the help of a brutal American criminal genius, the sinister Pacman Jones, to round up any trouble-making citizens, place them in outdoor holding pens, and crush any resistance. For my part, I drove around the town with my squad of crack Soviet stormtroopers and tipped over porta-potties, egged the elderly, urinated on cable dishes, and committed similar acts of espionage and terror designed to cause widespread panic and instill fear among the local population. They needed to know that resistance was futile.

To round out our crew we also hired B-movie character actor Danny Trejo to intimidate and whip the locals. I wanted Robert Davi, but Mr. Davi indicated he was appalled by our attack on his homeland and declined our offer. At any rate I think Mr. Trejo is a nice little pick-up on our part- not an evil dictator that you can build a major military around, but more of a complementary back-of-the-rotation bully that will eat alot of innings. Championship armies need guys like that.

Pacman Jones captured the leader of the local resistance, and everyone laid down their arms except for a few teenagers that fled into the mountains- I'm sure that's the last we'll hear from them- I wouldn't expect a half-dozen untrained teenagers to be able to mount any sort of insurgency against our highly professional and heavily armed forces.

And I have good news from Afghanistan- Although we have not located Enemy of the State #1, Domanick Williams (formerly Domanick Davis)...our contact in Kabul reports that we have captured his #4 man, Christopher Cooks, who was Domanick Williams' former high school coach. Our commandos raided an Afghan village in which Mr. Cooks was conducting a pee wee football clinic - I was told Mr. Cooks was actually captured while being unexpectedly tackled from behind by a commando as he was attempting to show some children how to punt. They said the commando used good form on the tackle before dropping and bludgeoning Mr. Cooks. I'm happy the kids got to see a good open-field tackle at no additional charge. Maybe there will be some future special teamers out of that lot- some budding little Afghan Steve Taskers if you will. Oh hello boo.

Back from the Dead

2007-07-26T22:30:00.000-04:00

Good day loyal readers

Well first I would like to apologize for my leave of absence- it's been a year. Maybe longer. I can't really remember anymore. I don't suppose that matters, really.

But I have been away the past year or so recovering from the fever. I was doing some work in Burma managing a bridge-building operation along the Burma railway- a civic works project- sort of like the Tennessee Valley Authority, except you shoot the lazy workers and any social undesirables that happen upon the work site. We were ahead of schedule and things were going well, and then I came down with something the natives call "agbayani" - which in English translates roughly to something like "typical over-hyped marginal new york met," or "the yellow fever," depending on how you pronounce the "i" at the end.

And so I lay bed-ridden for many months and I thought. There wasn't much else to do really, so I just thought and thought and thought. And then it occurred to me that what I was doing was abominable- that I lived a terrible life and caused great pain to myself and to many others. And I realized that there is a higher being out there- and that one day I- we- you -us all- we will all go before that being and face our day of judgment. You can't run, and you can't hide. And I realized that my life must change before it is too late- that it has to change.

Eventually however, the bloody fever subsided, and with it, my delusions. I reread the collected works of Marshall Tito and got my mind right again. Then I trained with some Cossacks for a month- shooting, cavalry techniques, sword-play- really the whole nine yards. And that got me back to where I needed to be physically. And then some promising work recently came along after I reconnected with my old friend Ivan.

Ivan told me he had a major operation in the works- something real big with the Soviets and the Cubans- and Ivan asked if I wouldn't mind coming aboard- he said the youngsters could really learn a thing or two from a man like me- and he said there was something in it for me- on my own. So I trained with them for a few weeks and no D-Day is upon us.

We will be flying out of our undisclosed camp in about 0300 hours. Disguised as commercial airliners, we should hit US airspace in 1200 hours and the drop zones in about 1300 hours. Once we land, we are to capture a series of bridges with thunderclap precision, and set up a base camp at the foot of the last bridge. Personally I think we're going a bridge too far, but I'll defer to the event planners for now. And so God willing, I shall write again after the jump.

I'll close by briefly discussing my fantasy football "keeper" team. As many of you know, the team has been one giant charlie foxtrot since its founding in 2002. A grand disappointment on par with Mills' fruitless call-back interview campaign of 2002-03. But we have restructured management, executed our special teams unit, burned all our playbooks, and are hoping to make a great leap forward in 2007 for the glory of the State.

And we continue to do all we can to pursue Enemy of the State #1 and grand traitor to the cause Domanick Davis. You may recall that Mr. Davis faked a thigh injury last season that devastated our fantasy ranks, costing us a series of campaigns and untold suffering. Since his act of treason, he has reportedly fled to Afghanistan where he is hiding out in a remote mountainous region. He has reportedly changed his name to Domanick Williams, cut his hair, and changed his jersey number. But rest assured that we're going to catch this guy- maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow- but our friends in Afghanistan like Ham Karzes are doing all that they can. And then we got the wacky Packy, Pervis Mushareef Abdur-Rahim, over there in Islamabad makin sure Davis doesn't try an end run. So it's just a matter of time.

And further, I swear to Trotsky that we will catch that paper-hanging son-of-a-bitch, and I will personally run him down with my K-bar.

OK I've got to prep for the jump- take care!

Day of the Miriachis

2006-06-06T11:34:00.000-04:00

Dear readers,

I apologize for my absence. Work had been slow and I got depressed in my apartment in Bolivia, and I ended up going on this month-long bender through downtown La Paz, where I used up most of my money and ammunition. I had trouble paying my cable bill, and lost internet access for a little while.

But the Bolivian government paid me handsomely for beheading a wealthy land-owner, and my financial burdens were temporarily eased. And with a little extra money to spend, I took a chance and flew to Cancun (Mexico) for this mercenary convention. I was a bit apprehensive from the start, because these "conventions" tend to be loser fests of novices, has-beens, and never-weres in the world of mercenarydom. The real mercs are out in the field racking up body counts and toppling monarchies, and the conventions are for the outsiders and newbies that are looking to get into the shit. But work has been slow and I went, hoping to get a good lead.

There were a few booths peddling second-rate assault rifles (I don't think anyone outside of Africa would want them), a couple ex-mercs signing autographs, and then some sign-up tables for people looking to join developing militias to stage coups, take on warlords, blow-up factories, or that sort of thing. Covert ops for suckers. No thanks. I'm not signing up to be the monkey-boy of some flunky third-world ex-treasurer or ex-governor staging some unprofessional one-man war to settle a grudge.

Depressed, I strode out to the beach with my BAR and squeezed off a few rounds at some dolphins that had swum in for high tide. I soon ran out of bullets, and then lobbed a grenade at the blasted ocean-rats. There was alot of glare form the sunset, and I couldn't tell if I got any of them. Dejected and worn-out, I just sort of shrugged and sat down in the sand.

And that's when I saw the fuckers....three miriachis, seemingly oblivious of my presence, strode across the sandy beach like ghosts in a landscape. Now in Spanish, the word "miriachi" loosely translates to "he who sings with the devil." And when I was a child in St. Kitts, my grandmother used to tell me stories of "the Miriachi"- grown men turned into zombies by Latino witch doctors, eternally roaming the earth to feed on the flesh of the living and bellow their praises to their master, the prince of darkness, occassionally kicking babies and spitting on the weak and the elderly as they did their evil master's bidding. So these bellowing demons strummed the devil's music as they got closer, and I had a flash-back to the Football Gods. I thought I was dreaming and rubbed my balls to make sure I was awake. Yep, I was awake.

The miriachis got with-in rifle range and I raised my BAR and took aim- I pulled the trigger expecting to see body parts and blood flying into the air, but nothing happened- rats- of course, I wasted my ammo on those bloody dolphins. I was out of my grenades, and I had thrown my Ka-bar at a babbling drifter only hours before, so I was essentially unarmed. The miriachis came closer -with-in a few feet of me, and I cowered in their presence. I put my hands over my eyes, and curled up in the fetal position, and wept for 10 to 15 minutes. Their demonic singing pierced my ear drums, and I wept harder- but I dared not look up-

Later- maybe hours later, I looked up again. The miriachis were gone. I looked at the sand and the surf, and aside from a seashell and a dolphin flipper, there was nothing else- no foot-prints, no guitars, no evidence that the miriachis had ever strolled through. They were toying with me- tempting me at a moment of weakness.

I immediately swore revenge, but knew it would take time before I was strong enough to take them out. Fore I presently lacked the weapons and man-power to conduct a house-by-house search through downtown Cancun city to find and summarily execute the bastards. There was no solace for me. No vindication. No revenge. And that's just the way it is sometimes. But tomorrow is another day.

More of McStallen's Email Bag of Terror

2006-04-19T09:08:00.000-04:00

I tracked across Africa a bit, and I'm just resting on an abandoned tank on a little beach on Lake Victoria, and I figured I'd "take five" and answer a few reader emails.
Here goes...

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McStallen, I think your blog's violent content is very tasteless and troubling and has no place in society.
-Bundy

Conflict and anarchy are coming to your neighborhood very soon Mr. Bundy- and you will need to be prepared- So when armed bands are speeding down your block in pick-up trucks maniacally firing AK-47s at everyone and everything, or when the Chinese tanks roll through your town's Main Street, you'll thank me for doing my best to prepare your community for the sanctimonious carnage on the horizon.
Remember- the organizing principle of any society is its capacity for war-making. And the final stage in any military campaign is the mobilization of the children. -M

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Mr. McStallen,
I have tried to trade with this very stubborn man in my fantasy baseball league. I have offered him great deals, including Kent Merker and Danny's Baez for Huston Street and Miguel Cabrera. This Cabrera is very over-rated- everyone knows that. I am just trying to do my friend a favor and take Cabrera off his hands. But still he resists, and quite frankly, I am at my wits end. Should I persist, and perhaps throw in Tomah Ohka, Luis Vizcaino or Paul Assenmacher? Or should I just cut to the chase and kill everyone in the league?
-Anthony K.

Anthony, I think you really need to give this guy your best offer before resorting to mass murder- try throwing out Robb Nen or Dean Biasucci and see if he bites. -M

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Mr. McStallen,
With my back against the wall, and the entire world aginst me, I was duped into trading Steve Smith to a predatory owner in my Yahoo! fantasy football keeper league. I don't think I can get this Smith fellow back through conventional barter- the predatory owner is far too stubborn for that- So I plan to kill him. Will that work?
-Anthony K.

Anthony, thanks for writing again. I would email Yahoo Customer Care first and see if they will transfer ownership of Steve Smith to you if you kill his present owner- if they will, then you should go through with it. -M

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Do they sell Budweiser in the Sudan?
-Tim M.

What do you care Tim? The only way you'll ever leave St. Louis is in a body bag, you pathetic pud. -M

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Mr. McStallen,
I am unable to consummate any transactions in my fantasy baseball league. My negotiations have failed because the other "owners" in the league are conspiring against me and have made concerted refusals to deal. I have exhausted all administrative remedies, including statutory relief granted by the Smoot-Hawley tariff. Alas the government will not help me... Should I take the law into my own hands and murder the other owners in my league?
-Anthony K.

Anthony- thanks for all the emails- I am starting to notice a few themes here...I think you take these fantasy sports too seriously and all too often are projecting false feelings and motives on people and/or reading too much into their actions. I think you should relax and maybe just let some stress out by lobbing a few grenades at the handicapped seating section of a sporting contest. Most of those phonies can walk. -M
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Ah Mr. McStallen,
I find myself writing to you once again for additional counsel. Would you be so gracious as to answer one final query?
You see, for the last 3 months I have been stalking this alcoholic horse-trader that I shall refer to as only "Mills." This man Mills is terminally ill with many diseases, and I believe he will die before the year is through. Terminal illness notwithstanding, I also believe it is my manifest destiny to slay Mills, and repeated efforts to do so have been stymied by malfunctioning weaponry. Should I persist in my efforts to kill Mills? ...or should I move on to other prey and let Mother Nature take care of things for me?

Anthony, that's a really good question. I think you should take one more crack at him and then if it doesn't work, just move on. -M

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OK children, that's all for now, I'm going to take a nap and will write more later.

Backpacking Through Darfur

2006-04-11T09:01:00.000-04:00

So I've been out of mercenary work for a bit, and this happens from time to time. Usually there's a real lull around the holidays, and then sometimes you get hiring freezes if there's some big international conflict spilling out of control or something, and then you can even get some dry spells throughout the year.

And I had been loafing around for a bit, and I decided to take a little vacation and try to make the most of my time off. I grabbed a backpack, a few light firearms, my lap top, and my Panzerschreck, and headed to Western Sudan to backpack around the bucolic Darfur region that I have read so much about.

I flew into Sudan as a passenger on my friend Ricky Beltran's cargo plane, and then parachuted out over Darfur. After landing, the first thing I noticed was the sense of anarchy- you could just feel it in every bone in your body. Sort of like the first time I got off a plane in St. Louis Missouri (USA), and I turned to my father and said, "Do you feel that Papa McStallen? ...That's racial tension."

And so the first couple days in Darfur were bliss. I walked peacefully around the ravaged countryside, taking pictures of the charred structures, burning homes, bomb craters etc. I used my metal detector in some of the ruins and came up with alot collectible Sudanese currency.
I encountered bodies here and there, and on a few occasions I would prop the body up and take a "novelty" picture of me pretending to engage the deceased in conversation- they were real hit or miss- but I think a few came out quite well, especially ones where I set it up so we were all looking in different directions.

Along the way, I met a few children that were missing limbs, and I felt badly for them, so I gave them some of my surplus grenades to play with. And I made sure to tell them that if they were just playing catch with a friend, they should not pull the pins- not even pretend to as a joke. The kids really liked the grenades and took a bunch home, and two of the kids even asked if I was Santa Clause- but then I told them that Santa Clause doesn't come to Africa.

And then I spent my nights sleeping out in the open sky, sipping vodka and using my sniper rifle with silencer and infrared scope to pick off some of the hapless local militia that had the misfortune of conducting their nighttime patrols with-in rifle range of me.

So on the third day I awoke to the sounds of a government chopper hovering above- they were probably tipped off by the local militia- and they began to pound my position with their .50 cal. So I dove into a roadside ditch and got ready to return fire with my Panzerschreck.

As everyone knows, a Panzerschreck is an anti-tank gun, and it doesn't do much on aircraft. So I fired a round and of course it veered off about 10 meters from the chopper and then crashed harmlessly into an orphanage. Fortunately though, there was a big explosion, and the chopper crew must have thought I had a Stinger or something, because they hauled ass and took off.

So I got up, cleaned my Panzershreck, and then hiked up a steep ridge because I had heard a rumor that a southern Sudanese tank column was approaching from the west and might engage some of the amateur mechanized forces of the local militia.
And I was curious to see some tank battles- fighting in the desert is very different than fighting in a triple canopy jungle- yes sir. The man in the black pajamas- a worthy adversary.

But as my luck would have it, the armored units went in opposite directions and there wasn't any fighting at all. So I threw my binoculars down with disgust, and to let out some stress, I fired a few mortar rounds at some near-by farmers trying to repair an irrigation ditch. And after the rounds hit, that was it for me- I decided to leave.

You see Darfur is one of these places that's fun to visit and stay at for a bit- but I wouldn't want to live there. Oppressive heat, almost no access to any sort of food or drinkable water, constant rocket and mortar attacks etc. I don't need that shit now.

McStallen's Fantasy Baseball Preview Part IV- Attack of the Corner Infielders! (and outfielders)

2006-04-04T14:52:00.000-04:00

OK, the season has started and these "previews" are quickly growing stale. So I'll wrap things up with this post and be done with it.

1) Third Base
Holy shit I remember back when Mike Schmidt and Tim Wallach were the only two good third basemen in baseball. Well things have changed and third base is loaded.

Do not get left out in the cold in this position folks. I have a friend from America in an NL-only league, and he is using Joe Randa as his three-bagger. A couple of years ago that would have been OK, since most fantasy teams were starting marginal 3Bs. But now most teams have studs and you will lose out big-time (in relative terms) if you are starting some schlub like Mr. Randa- even in an NL-only league.

Here are 3 guys you can probably find late in drafts that should help you:

Aaron Boone- Boone hasn't played well in years, and no one wants him on their fantasy team because of the threat posed by super-prospect Andy Marte. That might not happen until 2007- so don't be afraid to cut one of your bench scrubs like Reggie Sanders or Gustavo Chacin and sign this guy.

Edwin Encarnacion- struck out 3 times yesterday. But it's going to be real hit n' miss with him, so take the 120 Ks if it gets you 30 homers.

Ryan Zimmerman- Zimmerman is an elite prospect who has been handed the Nationals thirdbase job without any competition. He should thrive, but be careful, he has had some real fielding problems and this could lead to playing time problems down the road.

2) Firstbase
Here are 5 under-rated first baseman-This position is loaded...

Connor Jackson- Super-prospect who tore up the minors last year and then tore up pitching during spring training in 2006. Had 2 hits in the opener and could work his way into the role of clean-up hitter. I just wish he gets traded to Boston some day so one day I can hear one of those despicable bean-eaters say "Fawkin Connah Jacksin"...

Scott Hatteburg- if Hatteburg gets the at-bats, he could smack 30 homers as a Red. But beware he'll probably sit against most lefties. He hit a homer in the season opener.

Mike Sweeney- a very solid hitter who plas on a terrible team- he has a little protection (Reggie
Sanders, Matt Stairs) so if he stays healthy, he could put up nice OPS numbers.

Casey Kotchman- Kotchman has been a hyped prospect for a few years, and this year he appears ready to produce. He ripped up opposing pitchers during spring training, and went 1-3 with an RBI in the opener.

Jim Thome- you've heard the name before...well Mr. Thome should rebound nicely, back in the AL, DH'ing on a team that plays in a hitters' park. He's homered in both WhiteSox games already- so there's a huge ceiling for him. IF you drafted him, congrats. Just don't get snookered into trading alot for him, because he's old and coming off an attrotious season.

3) Outfield
The outfield is weak- I think there are more good fantasy first baseman than outfielders, even though there are three times as many starting outfielders.
But here are some guys to look out for:

Brad Wilkerson- Wilkerson is playing through injuries, but when healthy, he should thrive as a Ranger. 1B-OF eligible.

Jonny Gomes- Put up great numbers last year- doesn't quite have the pedigree of alot of other star outfielders, but this guy is a great day-day deal. He went 2-4 in the 2006 season opener, with a dong. 21 HRs in 348 at-bats. Only problem is that he needs to cut down on the Ks- He was on pace last year for 200+ had he played a full season.

Eric Byrnes- the streaky Byrnes is playing in a hitter-friendly park, and could post career highs. If he gets off to a hot start, he could lock up the #1 or #2 spot in the D-backs lineup, and that will certainly help his production. Byrnes had 3 hits in the season opener.

Austin Kearns- Kearns has been a hyped fantasy prospect for years, who still hasn't arrived. In fact I recall having him on my 2002 team- and cutting him. But this year it may all click- there's no more Wily Mo Pena, Jose Guillen, Ruben Mateo, Reggie Taylor, Juan Encarnacion etc to steal playing time, and Kearns will be given a full shot to make it. It's on him- if he stays healthy, he could be very serviceable.

McStallen's 2006 Fantasy Baseball Preview - Part III- Starting Pitching

2006-03-31T00:42:00.000-05:00

Starting pitching is where it's won or lost, I shit you not. A-Rod, Pujaholski, Vlad etc are outstanding players. But you cannot win without good reliable starting pitching.

Now I love talking about young arms, but today I would rather talk about young starting pitching. And here is my priceless theory on starting pitching:

The first time around the league, the young pitcher has the drop on everyone and puts up great numbers. The second time*around the league, the hitters adjust, and the pitchers gets rung up alot. The third time around the league (and thereafter) the pitcher readjusts and settles into his groove as a mature hurler.

And now I'll apply the theory:

A. First time around the league - these guys should be good
1) Brian Bannister- Pitching out of the friendly confines of Shea stadium, Bannister is one to watch.

2) Justin Verlander- should do pretty well for the Tigers. Not related to this guy, although their names sound similar.

3) Taylor Buchholz- Who? Well the former Phillies prospect will have a few nice starts for the Astros. And that will probably be the highpoint of his career.

4) Jonathan Papelbon- in the BoSox bullpen now, but he'll be starting at some point this year.

5) Sean Marshall- the Cubs plan to give this guy a few starts while some of their starters (Mark Prior, Kerry Wood, and/or Wade Miller) recover on the DL. If Marshall pitches well, Dusty Baker has already promised management that he will completely wear down Marshall's arm in 2 months or less.

B. Second time around the league- Avoid - will experience and growing pains and will not be worth it:
1) Zach Duke- I'm thinking 8-8 with a 4.00 ERA. it's not like he'll get run support anyway. For 2006, expect to be disappointed. Long-term, expect good things.

2) Matt Cain- this guy has always had control problems- he'll break out in 2007- if you're not in a keeper league, than kick this guy to the curb and drop a brick on him Reginald Denny style.

3) Gustavo Chacin- this crafty lefty will get lit up like a X-mas tree this year- err "Holiday tree"- he'll probably get alot of run support, but not enough...

4) Jason Vargas- the NL version of Chacin

5) Joe Blanton- 9.58 ERA this spring- may not take a step backward this year, but probably won't take a step forward

6) Scott Baker- Just gave up 11 earned runs and 10 hits in 1 2/3 innings during an exhibition game that supposed to be his final preseason tune-up- and OK, he edged out DUI-boy Francisco Liriano for a starting spot- but Liriano's the better pitcher. And Kirby Puckett's dead.

7) Chris Young- one word- "dead arm"

C. Third time around the league- ready to turn the corner
1) Erwin Santana- Young Erwin is developing as a pitcher, and will have a great offense him, which should really help -and the Angel pen is diesel, and can pitch him out of alot of jams.

2) Scott Kazmir- last year he had an ERA below 4.00, unheard of for a Devil Ray starter. This man will do great things- and the Mets gave him away for Victor Zambrano.

3) Gavin Floyd- just edged out Ryan Franklin for a spot in the Philadelphia rotation -as Matt Potalivo once sad, this guy has nasty nasty stuff.

4) Brandon Claussen- former Yanquis prospect may develop into a good pitcher this year- but it will be hard to tell since he pitches in Coors Jr

5) Dewon Brazleton- may have finally figured things out in San Diego- Tampa Bay gave up on him, but McStallen, and apparently San Diego, have not

6) Kyle Davies- only thing holding this guy back is the fact that the Braves only good coach (Leo Mazzone or Lee Mazzili- whoever the pitching coach was) left, and Davies' development is left to the mercy of functional alcoholic and admitted wife-beater Bobby Cox

7) Noah Lowry- hopefully he gets a little more control and lowers the WHIP - but he's a great strikeout pitcher who should be really comfortable this year, especially after signing a new 4-year contract.

8) Dave Bush- another Demon Deacon making good, and arguably the most boring player in professional baseball, the Bushman will likely enjoy the transition from junior circuit to senior circuit and put up nice numbers in dreary Milwaukee.

D) Exceptions to the rule
Felix Hernandez- this guy is going to be so fucking good that my theory is just inapplicable- the only thing holding him back is endurance - he had some preseason shin problems, but they are allegedly behind him (if you believe what you read)

Zack Grienke- the guy is nuts - all bets are off

McStallen's 2006 Fantasy Baseball Preview- Part II- The Middle Infield

2006-03-29T11:11:00.000-05:00

OK we did catchers and closers in the last post, so let's talk middle infield now. And although fantasy seasons are not won or lost by the middle infield, it's still an important area- so pay attention.

Shortstops
We'll do shortstops first. This used to be a really stocked position, but alot of the older stars have dropped off or become ineligible (Nomar, A-Rod, Omar Vizquel etc) and alot of the new blood (Bobby Crosby, JJ Hardy, Josh Bartlett, Khalil Greene, and BJ Upton) hasn't really arrived yet.

So what are we left with? Well there are still a bunch of good shortstops (Tejada, M Young, Reyes, Furcal etc), but not enough to go around. So don't wait to long to plug this whole.
And here're some players you may (not?) want to consider...

Abraham Nunez- a nice sleeper who can do almost all the positions- look for him to get alot of PT with Philly and maybe even earn a starting role by bumping David Bell off thirdbase. He is the second coming of Placido Polanco, and that is a beautiful thing for the lowly city of Philadelphia.

Clint Barmes- I think this is a guy to avoid- after his controversial deer-meat injury last year, he was never really the same. Barmes came back and hit poorly in September and October '05 (.216), then hit poorly in winterball, and then hit poorly during the spring (.212). He's pretty high-strung, and this could be physical or mental- whatever it is, just stay away.

Luis Gonzalez is the good value when you're talking Colorado Rockies middle infielders- and who doesn't like to talk about that? Gonzalez hit nearly .400 this spring, and this year he should finally get his chance to start- don't expect huge numbers, but hopefully he can hit .280-.290 and play virtually every position but catcher.

Nomar Garciapara- this guy keeps falling in drafts, and I think he's a real sleeper- he'll play firstbase, but be eligible at 1B, 3B, and SS- if he stays healthy, he could be very effective, and a great value pick. He'll avoid the DL all year long so long as he plays 1B- I god damn guarantee you that.

Cesar Izturis is one to watch- he was an all-star last year, and will miss at least half the season with an injury. Given the lack of depth at this position, he's probably worth stashing on your DL. Beware- even when healthy, he has about as much pop in his bat as Coco Khoury.

Second base
There's a bit more talent here, but I wanted to go over some of the less obvious talent...

Ian Kinsler- The Rangers unloaded Alfonso Soriano because they think Kinsler is ready to take over. Or was that just face-saving propaganda promulgated by their GM? Hmmm... Kinsler ought to be eligible at 2B and SS in most leagues, and could be a 20-20 guy. But don't take him too early- alot of time guys like this are sent to the minors after a month and disappear faster than a high school senior in Aruba.

Bill Mueller- Bill Mueller is about as boring a player that there is. Aside from the fact you pronounce his name oddly (pronounced "Miller"), I don't think this pack of shit stands out for anything. But he's eligible at 2B and 3B, had a hot spring, and should hit .290-.300 this year- so take notice.

Josh Barfield- a top prospect who is the son of a 1980s baseball star playing in the San Diego infield? Hopefully this will be better than the last time that happened- with Sean Burroughs that is. A few years back I remember some fantasy pundit writing, "It's only a matter of time before Sean Burroughs wins his first batting title." Egads- that's another reason why young writers need to steer clear of sensationalism - it's like I tell my students- most things don't end up being sensational, so keep the hype to a minimum and act like you been there. But many of those fucking kids don't learn, and that's when I go to plan B and beat some common sense into them.
Anyway Barfield has had a great spring and will be starting at 2B and batting lead-off- should be a nice sleeper 2B with alot of upside.

Mark Loretta- Mr. Loretta finally got himself into a nice spot- he should thrive batting second for the BoSox- count on alot of runs and a very nice OPS. Steals and homers won't happen much, but Loretta will be a very good draft value nonetheless.

OK that's all I got now. Again if you want all my cheatsheets, rankings and blueprints, you'll need to become a McStallen Insider, best $19.95 you'll ever spend on something non-lethal.

McStallen's 2006 Fantasy Baseball Preview -Part I- Pitchers and Catchers

2006-03-27T12:44:00.000-05:00

I originally started this blog to talk about fantasy sports. But many readers kept hounding me about the personal details of my life as a deranged mercenary- and so gradually over time I just started using my blog to write about people I tried to kill in order to appease the littles. But every once in a while I like to kick it old school and return to my true passion, which is not cold-blooded murder, but rather fantasy sports.

Ergo I'm going to use the next few blog postings to provide abbreviated fantasy baseball insight. If you want all my rankings and baseball wisdom, you'll need to pay $19.95 and become a McStallen Insider. The first 500 people to sign-up get free claymores. And membership is free to anyone who has purchased an assault rifle from me over the last 180 calendar days. As always, all proceeds go to my charity to rebuild the Berlin Wall- which is tax deductible in Syria.

All right so let's talk about pitchers and catchers- seems like a natural place to start...

Catchers
-I know Colorado catchers have a terrible track record, but I'm really surprised no one has jumped on any of them in the drafts I've been monitoring. It seems like Danny Ardoin is duking it out with Yorvit Torrealba for a race to the bottom. But keep an eye on this situation- if Torrealba gets healthy, he could be a solid producer. Similarly, if Ardoin stays hot, he could plug a big fantasy hole. More power to him.

-And how about Baltimore? With Javy Lopez and Ramon Hernandez on the roster, I think both could have great years- To start the season, Lopez will play firstbase and Hernandez will catch, but that could change alot and both could be DH'ing or likewise getting more time off from behind the plate, and that ought to help them out alot.

-Las Molinas- the Molina family (Ben, Yadier, and whomever the third guy is) has ravaged the catching position like the Gramatickas desecrated the world of NFL kicking. Don't buy into them- they are garbage and Bo Diaz could outcatch all of them- well, he could if he hadn't been impaled on that fateful day in November 1990 by a satellite dish.

-Mauer vs. V-Mart? So who's the best catcher? Both these guys have very good K-BB ratios. Mauer can steal and Martinez cannot- but here's what really sells it for me- after the all-star break last year, Martinez hit .380 and Mauer hit .284. So I have to give a big edge to Mr. Martinez

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And now for some closer talk

Closers
-Florida- they're officially going with Joe Borowski, but I wouldn't be surprised if Kerry Lightenberg ends up in there soon. Also, Matt Herges has closing experience, and Travis Bowyer (recently sent packing to AAA) could always be called up and get a shot later in the season.

-Cincinnati- this stuff changes alot, but for now look for righty David Weathers to be the primary closer, and lefty Kent Merker to get the call when the Reds are facing a predominantly left-handed line-up in the 9th.

-Pittsburgh- I'm not sold on Mike Gonzalez- great numbers- but he's a lefty, and I think Pittsburgh may occasionally use Salomon Torres, Damaso Marte, or another righty to close depending on the situation.

-Atlanta- Chris Reitsma has done an OK job at closer, but Atlanta has traditionally had very effective closers under the leadership of confessed wife-beater/functional alcoholic Bobby Cox- they made a big mistake with Danny Kolb, and Reitsma is sort of the damage control that was left-over- but I think it's only a matter of time before "lights out" Joey Devine gets the call and Atlanta once again has a quality closer. And Oscar Villareal might keep the mound warm for a few weeks as Atlanta transitions from Reitsma to Devine.

-Tampa Bay- Chad Orvella is technically the closer this week, but there are alot of hats in the ring on this one- Dan Miceli, Jesus Colume, Chad Harville etc. Look for Miceli to actually get the first save opportunities. None have much of a track record, so don't put too much faith in any of them. At least that boner Lou Pinella isn't around to confuse things even more with his misinformation.

-Cleveland- Bob Wickman is a fat pud- over the past few years, he has clung to his closer role and fended off a bunch of bums like Raphael Betancort and Doug Riske or whoever they hell they are- but I think he has met his match in one Fernando Cabrera- it should be only a matter of time before the young flame-thrower takes over- maybe even before the all-star break.

-Kansas City- Ambriorix Burgos will close while the oft-injured Mike MacDougal is on the DL for the next 4-6 weeks, and Burgos could hold onto that spot if he pitches well. Burgos had a great preseason so he could be a nice sleeper.

-WhiteSox-this time last year, I was calling for the head of the abominable Mr. Zero (Shingo Takatsu)- this year I am targeting another closer- Bobby Jenks- who seems to have lost all his velocity. Neal Cotts is healthy and has nasty stuff and is just waiting to get his chance to close. I was right about Mr. Zero, and I had the inside goods on Winnie Mandela long before the Truth and Reconciliation Committee did, so have a little faith in me, and stay from Jenks. And don't worry about Dustin Hermanson- he's going to start the season on the DL.

-Detroit- I just don't have any faith in Todd Jones- I think last year was a fluke for Jones- Keep an eye on this one and be prepared to grab Fernando Rodney if Jones falters.

A Trip to Mother Russia

2006-03-20T14:05:00.000-05:00

So I planned a trip to Russia in order to pay my respects at the Milosevic funeral. This was rather sudden and I didn't have time to find a ticket to use my frequent flier miles, and so I was a little burned up. And I was little nervous going there, because I had sort of cheated the Russian mob during that diamond heist in Leningrad right after those bastards starting taking the Wall down in '89, and I figured the Russian mob was still a little sore at me. And when people like that get a little sore at you, they try to kill you. And so I took a few bodyguards with me, just in case.

So I'm sitting down at the ceremony, and everyone's coming up paying their respects and throwing flowers and what not and saying how great Milosevic was and how much he did for the rights of Serbs everywhere, and then all of a sudden Crotop the Moldovan Bear comes up to me. I thought he had been working in the States, but apparently he was deported again. I asked him why- if it was his visa or something- but then he shook his head and told me it was because he broke someone named Megan's law or something. What a country America is! That individual citizen's get their own laws. That's a bit too free-spirited and wishy-washy if you ask me.

So then Crotop tells me that without Milosevic protecting me in the Balkans, I could be through- the Russian mafia would see to that- and that I should go with him to a meeting and that they could work out a deal with me and then I'd be safe.

And that's how I knew they were going to come at me. The Russian mob was going to arrange a meeting through Crotop, and at that meeting I was going to be assassinated. That's the smart play for Crotop. Crotop was always smarter.

That's the way people are in this business- they come to you in your moment of weakness- they come as your friends- and you don't see it coming. And so I recognized this Moldovan wolf in sheep's clothing for what he really was, and decided to make my move.

So I told Crotop we should leave the funeral and take my car to go meet with the mob. He made a call to his boss Barzinov, and then we headed for my car. I had my bodyguards already waiting by the car- they knew the drill.

"You get in the car Crotop- but I'm not going with you." I told Crotop.

"But you have to go with me to the meeting -otherwise you'll mess everything up...." he explained.

But then Crotop paused for a second, and suddenly it dawned on him what was coming next, and his heart sunk.
"McStallen - can you get me off the hook- for old time sake?" he begged.

I just smiled and shook my head. "Can't do it, Crotop."

"Mikhael- It was nothing personal, just business." said Crotop.

And then I pushed him into the car and one of my body-guards fired a .22 slug into his head.
We dumped the body in the Volga and headed off.

Well that wasn't business for me- that was all personal, I god damn guarantee it.

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On to more cheery news...

"Among individuals, as among nations, respect for the rights of others is peace."

So said Benito Juarez. And today is the 200th birthday of Benito Juarez, the former president of Mexico and champion of "La Reforma." Mr. Juarez served two terms as Mexico's president in the 1860s, and worked to fight both oppression by the Roman Catholic Church and the French government. The French probably deny this now- just like they deny everything else in their past pertaining to misdeeds, violence, aggression etc. A decade from now they'll probably deny the chronic rioting and civil disobedience that's been ravaging their landscape.

Anyway Feliz Navidad Mr. Juarez. Feliz Navidad.

Milosevic Remembered

2006-03-13T11:47:00.000-05:00

Today has been a very emotional day for me, and I now report to you that the father of Serbian nationalism, and the patron saint of Balkan genocide, Mr. Slobodan Milosevic, has passed away of natural causes.

It seems like everyone has a Slobodan Milosevic story or two, so I figure I'll share mine with you all. Now way back in early '98 I was working for the KLA, and was out with a frog-man team mining the Danube when a Serb riverboat spotted us with their searchlight. They fired some warning shots form their .50 cal, and plucked us right out. They tortured us a bit, standard Geneva convention violations- nothing noteworthy- and then took us back to headquarters.

My Serbian captors were familiar with my work, and figured "the Boss" would like to see me.
So they put me in an armored personnel carrier and took me off to Mr. Milosevic' chateau.

They brought me into his chambers under heavy guard and I was quite nervous.
He was seated, busily sorting through 8x10s of various Croatian citizens, putting them in one pile labeled "Kill" and another labeled "Put in jail- probably kill later."

Then he looked up for a second and winked at me.
"Ahh McStallen- I know of your work in El Salvador, South Africa and Eritrea. And the Laotian circus animal massacre in '77... beheading those circus monkeys...It was, how you say, big inspiration?"

Then he looked down at one of the 8x10s and spat at it. "Fuck your mother." he mumbled to the 8x10 under his breath. Then he looked up at me again.

"If a man kills your child, the way you get back at that man is to kill several of his children. And maybe someone else' children too. And blow something up and torture your neighbors. And then kill your neighbors. Then you get vengeance for your dead child, and you can sleep easy. And that's the way we do it here."

Brilliant. I knew at once this flawed man was a kindred spirit.

We were roughly the same age, and had both killed lots of people, and so we had alot in common and hit it off pretty well. So we got talking, and he worked out a deal for me. He'd forget about the stuff in the Danube if I'd train and fight with two companies of anti-aircraft units so that we could fend off the criminal NATO airstrikes that were destroying the beautiful Balkan countryside and causing untold harm to a great number of innocent people.

So for about 6 months, I trained brave young Serbs, and later myself fought in the Great War of NATO Aggression, and Mr. Milosevic treated me like a son. It was alot of work, but there was some play time too- me and "Slobo" would usually spend our Sundays fishing and sniping for Croats at the local market or go tear-gassing war orphans.

Work wasn't that bad either- with help from fellow mercenary Crotop the Moldovan Bear, I shot down a commercial airliner from South Korea (that'll teach 'em), and also had several unconfirmed hits on NATO bombers. NATO would never own up to losing one of their aircraft if we shot it down anyway- you know the way they are. And Wesley Clark? What a joke. And that's the way the West is- always disseminating false propaganda to further their own agenda- like the Gulf of Tonkin, or the lunar landing, or evolution...long live William Jeninngs Brian and death to the gold standard.

Right, now so I saw that American twit Owen Wilson make a mockery of our efforts with his jingoistic "Behind Enemy Lines." Alot of people tell me "The Wedding Crashers" is good, but I've never seen it- and I never will unless that bastard Wilson apologizes for "Behind Enemy Lines." His next movie could be a bloody Oscar winner - I don't care- he's not getting any money from me any time soon.

So anyway as 1998 came to a close, I thanked Mr. Milosevic for his hospitality and told him I needed a change of scenery. He thanked me, we exchanged genital hand-shakes, and then parted ways. My heart was in the south, and I left for Bogota to recruit for FARC, but every so often I think back to the fond times I spent in Yugoslavia.

So long Slobodan- the world will be a different place without you around.

A Blundered Siege

2006-02-27T16:08:00.000-05:00

So these past two weeks I've been training a company of mercenaries to mount a full-frontal assault on a Lebanese cave that the dastardly Sacramento Civil Servant is hiding out in. I was going to lead the charge myself, but I sprained my ankle playing a game of lawn darts in Tel Aviv over the weekend, and so I delegated authority and put the company's head NCO, Stavros, in command to lead the charge.
Stavros, a hulking Balkan, led the boys toward the cave, and we covered them with our two .88 batteries. I watched from an adjacent hillside and figured the whole operation would take a few minutes. But after about 15 minutes I could see they hadn't gotten too far, and I got a little impatient with 'ol Stavros....

-------------------------------------
MCSTALLEN
Hello Stavros! Hello! How many emplacements did you locate? Did you knock any out? Over.

STAVROS
I don't know...I don't know sir...

MCSTALLEN
What the hell do you mean, you donÂt know?! What's the matter with you, Stavros? Those men should be reinforced immediately! What are they doing? They should be up and out, cleaning out those machine guns! Over!

STAVROS
I don't think you understand what's going on, sir. We've had... heavy casualties. We had a man... His gut got shot out on the slopes, sir. Created quite an upset. And for reinforcements, I have...two squads to-

MCSTALLEN
Two squads! What the hell do you mean, two squads?!
Goddamn you, Stavros!When I say reinforcements, goddamn it, I mean it! You commit everybody- I mean everybody- you have there!

STAVROS
Sir, I must tell you, that I refuse to obey your order. My company alone cannot take that position, sir... The Civil Servant is too well dug in... He's got a well-manned bunker up there...We can't see it, and it's...it's chewing my men to pieces, sir.
I request permission for patrol reconnaissance to the right of the cave.
I have two witnesses here. I request that you do the same with witnesses there. Over.

MCSTALLEN
Stavros, don't you pull this guardhouse-lawyer bullshit with me!!! Now, I know you're a goddamn lawyer!
But this is not a court of law.
This is a war- It's a goddamn battle!
....But if you feel that strongly, maybe you have a reason, so I'm coming down.

-------------------------------------------
So I got off with Stavros and went to plan B...Borgnine was waiting in the McStallen assault helicopter on a spy ship in the gulf. I figured I would call him in and he'd fire a few rockets into the bunker, maybe even drop some snake and nape, and that would be the end of that.

I called his cell and didn't get an answer. I waited a minute and called again. Still no answer. I called a third time and left a message.
I waited another minute and called again but it went right to his voice-mail! The bastard had shut his phone off. I got young men getting shot to shit on that bloody hill, and that bastard is coppin Z's and too lazy to answer his phone.
Disgusted, I threw down my AK and left the battleground.

The shooting died down, and eventually the mercenaries took the cave. They took a few prisoners (which they promptly executed), confiscated some light ordinance, but of course they didn't get what we came for- the Civil Servant. He took off and split in the middle of the fighting like the paranormal coward that he is.

----------------------------------------
Later on in the day I was on-line checking my fantasy basketball scores, and I was feeling really good because it looks like my boy Josh Smith is really turning things around and starting to live up to his potential- more blocks than any other player in the NBA in the last month- and he's guard-eligible. That's some shit.
So just then Borgnine IM's me, and say he's sorry about not napalming the Civil Servant, and that he just fell asleep and he hoped everything went well. I didn't even respond- I was so hopping mad at him I was tempted to remove his name from my buddy list- I didn't of course, but I shit you not I was really close to doing it.

One Year Anniversary

2006-02-15T12:03:00.000-05:00

Well that blasted little excursion into Nepal was a real Charlie-Foxtrot, and I had to bail out of that bus about 50 yards from a government checkpoint on the outskirts of Katmandu. The U.N.'s got the nukes now, my employer is pissed, and now that boner Kofi Annan is trying to piece it all together. Good luck Kofi.

Christ, Nepal's always been a bad place for me- that's where we lost Rodrigo in '05.
But at least it's over for now.

But this post is really special to me because it represents the one-year anniversary of this blog. And I've done alot this year- there were coups, assassinations, kidnappings, napalmings, and beheadings. A couple villages completely wiped off the mat. I even cupped Reggie Roby's balls. I destroyed a UFC convention. Lots of action. And I killed more people this past year (52) than most mercenaries do in a career. I mean 52 confirmed kills in one year- that ain't fucking peanuts- that's all's I'm saying.

And don't get me started on "unconfirmed kills"- by my own account I think I bagged another two-dozen people this year- maybe more because I'm not sure how many people were in that pet hospital in Sarajevo- but mercenarywatch.com wouldn't give me any credit for those other kills for lack of evidence. Those bastards...it's not like any of them have the balls to go out and waste someone- but boy are they quick to set-up a web-site and pass judgment on others as to what constitutes a confirmed kill and what doesn't. They're just a bunch of parasites. Someone should frag them- that's what someone should do.

I digress...So where to next? Well I'll tell you- There's a multi-national task force, led by my old acquaintances Hyman Mills and Gary, that has gone tear-assing across the globe looking for the Sacramento Civil Servant. After a month of that, they've finally got him cornered in a cave in Lebanon. And they're paying me to go in and be the one to extract him. That's highly dangerous, but hell let's be honest here- I would have done that for free- pleasure is all mine.

So here's the transcript of my debriefing this morning with Mills, going over my mission in Lebanon...

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

MILLS: (unfolds map of Lebanon) They call him "The Civil Servant."
He's holed up in a cave outside of Beirut. Fighting's confined to the cave area. Now If we're gonna stop the Civil Servant, we've gotta do it right there. The rest of the task force has done its job. Now it's your turn.

MCSTALLEN: (nods)

MILLS : I admire you, McStallen. I do.

McSTALLEN : Thank you, sir.

MILLS: Most men your age would have retired by now. But that's OK. We need mercenaries with maturity and character Iike you. But once a mercenary gets wounded a few times, he can't wait to take a desk job. He becomes a politician, right? Goes along to get along. So goddamn hard to stay upright.

MCSTALLEN: You said it there, sir.

MILLS: With Gary watching- which he will be. There's always someone watching.
Like a hawk. Always someone ready to jump in, if you're not.
Do you have a son, McStallen?

MCSTALLEN: Yes, sir. I think several actually.

MILLS: Good. Well we don't want our sons or grandsons fighting the Civil Servant years from now, do we?

MCSTALLEN: No, sir, we sure don't.

MILLS: Then you crush him without mercy. You dig him out of that cave and you bring him back.

MCSTALLEN: Yes, sir.

MILLS: You wonder why... Why would the Civil Servant hide there of all places? I guess we don't know the bigger picture, if there is such a thing... What do you think?

MCSTALLEN: Well, sir, I never asked myself that question.

MILLS: You're a humble man... Nobody wants the Civil Servant... but you. How much do you want him?

MCSTALLEN: As much as I have to, sir.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Interview with a Borgnine

2006-01-25T14:33:00.000-05:00

Good day loyal readers. I realize I have been away for a while, and I apologize once again for my absence. Some things are going on right now that I can't really get into- without getting too specific, I'll just say that I kidnapped some Ukrainian scientists, stole a bunch of plutonium and am on a rickety school bus packed with nuclear explosives speeding towards the Nepalese border.

So things are a bit hectic. But I'm writing today not because of the imminent nuclear holocaust that I will probably cause, but rather because I recently came into possession with what I assert to be the Holy Grail of sociopathic paranormal mercenary paraphanelia.....
Yes- you guessed it- my buddy Borgnine got a hold of The Sacramento Civil Servant's illustrated daily diary and traded it to me for a bag of severed heads and a shoebox of ears. That's a steal if you ask me.

This is a diary full of passion and insanity, containing wisdom and insight completely alien to the human psyche. I can't keep it all to myself, so I figured I would share a recent passage with you in which the Civil Servant spouts off against his former friend Borgnine- here goes:

"Oh clever Borgnine, why have you forsaken me, you wolf in sheep's clothing?
I gave you my heart and my soul, my life and my Steve Smith, and all you gave me was Ahman Green via a three-way trade and a dagger through the heart.
Oh Borgnine I tried for many months to reconcile your recent devious behavior with the traditional upstanding nature of your character. And finally I saw the light, and now I see you for who you are- you are a heartless bastard.

You're just like all the others- all my other enemies- like the pint-sized bullies in the cafeteria in Marseilles, or the Jewish tailor in Lebanon, or the inter-mural beach volleyball coach at UCLA, or the lesbian park ranger in St. Louis, or the gizz-mopper claiming to be Randy Culture's life partner in Fresno, and all the rest. Just another traitor getting his or her jollies off of my destruction.

Why did you do this? I know why...because you have sold your soul to Gary- and I wished and hoped long ago that we were done with all this Gary nonsense. But I know now we will never be done with this Gary nonsense- well not until I make things right and end it my way.

So this is going to stop and all of you will pay for your treachery. And pay dearly you will, for the time has come, to say fair's fair. To pay the rent. To pay our share."

Yes boo, How can you dance when your bed is burning boo? My god quoting Midnight Oil is a new low even for the Sacramento Civil Servant, but fortunately it gets better a few paragraphs later. And if you want to read it, you'll have to buck up. I will be selling copies of the diary for $39.95- order yours today- the first 200 orders get a free 18-inch McStallen attack helicopter complete with McGelboim and McStallen action figures.

As always, I will be donating all proceeds to my relief fund to reconstruct the Berlin Wall. Send a check or money order to:

"Where there's a Wall there's a Way Fund"
c/o Mikhael McStallen and Nicoli Ceacescu
1348 Honecker Sq, Suite 411
East Berlin, 18345-AB-201

A Romantic Interlude

2006-01-19T14:41:00.000-05:00

Oh my god my beloved readers it has been too long.

Well I would just like to apologize for my absence. I have been unavoidably detained in some romantic escapades. It is not often that I talk about women on this blog, and indeed I am still scarred by the death of my one true love in life, Appolonia, who was killed in a tragic car-bomb blast in Malta in 1968 perpetrated by a band of gypsies that were targeting me.

But being the hopeless romantic that I am, I had a month furlong with this blessed angel named Chow Mein. I really have to thank modern science, because without some recent developments such as the penis pump, mechanized testicle, or prosthetic anus, I dare say there would have been no intercourse at all.

And all this gratuitous defiling of course led to a great deal of writer's block. Some authors are able to use romance or romantic figures as their muse(s). But I draw my inspirations from pain, suffering and terror, and so this month of happiness has really been hard on me.

Fortunately, two days ago Chow Mein was run down in the street by a retarded milk-truck driver and rendered brain-dead, and that snapped me out of my sappy mental state. Reinvigorated, I contacted some old friends and tried to find a very violent mission that would pay me alot of money. So I'm shipping out to Borneo in a few days to meet up with my Bulgarian associate Borgnine, and his bodyguard Carson Pumper.

We've got a powerful Indonesian chieftain on retainer, and we will be carrying out some vengeance attacks for him on various persons and animals that have wronged him over the past few years- we've got a few hits planned already and we might even detonate a Buddhist temple depending on how everyone feels.

I shall write more in a few days- in the mean time please log onto e-Bay if you get a chance- I realize I no longer have any use for my penis pump, and I will be auctioning it off- my screen name is McStallen11@aol.com (same as my email)- all proceeds will go to my charity to rebuild the Berlin Wall.
Or you can just donate on-line (if_these_walls_could_talk.com)

Next Question!

2005-12-30T16:12:00.000-05:00

So I've been trying to law low in the American southwest for a bit while all that nonsense with the Viet Cong and the UFC fans and the Indian reservation blows over. I had been camping out in the desert for a week or so, but I was running out of food and water, so I decided to drive my armored-personnel carrier into town and look for money and supplies. And I was really hoping to sell my services to the townfolk as a gunfighter/mercenary and maybe settle a dispute between rival gangs or take on a local railroad barron and his cronies.
But to my dismay I encountered nothing but technology and progress. The horse was replaced by the motor-car, the cell phone had replaced the telegraph etc. The Old American West that I had read so much about as a youth while imprisoned in Crete had not just shrunk, it had disappeared.

Pissed off, I went into a local watering hole that was nothing more than some college bar for young folk, and ordered a couple Long Island Iced-Teas.
"And hold the ice you son of a bitch!" I screamed belligerently at the bartender as he prepared my beverages.
I drank for a bit but was interrupted by a meat-head frat guy and a smarmy middle-aged man. They seemed intrigued by my appearance.

"What are you- in the army?" asked the meat-head.

"Yes, but not the American one." I responded.

"What army then?" prodded the meat-head.

"Well I sort of have my own. But I like it better that way- less rules."

"My name is Matt and I play football for the Trojans. This is my new agent Drew." replied the meat-head, as he introduced me to the smarmy older man.
The meat-head told me his full name was Matt Weiner or Leiner or something and I got a few pictures for the blog of him molesting the local bimbos. Matt muttered to me that he was going to be "the next Kyle Orton," and then walked off. So it was just me and Drew the agent.

"What's that?" I asked, pointing to a line of coke on the bar that the agent was preparing to snort.

"Next question!" snapped the agent.

The agent then swallowed several pills of ecstasy.

"What were those?" I asked.

"Next question!" snapped the agent, as he injected himself with heroine.

"What's in the needle?" I asked.

"Next question!" snapped the agent again.

Then the agent pulled out a Terrell Owens bobble head doll and shoved it up his ass.

"What's that do for you?" I asked, as I calmly began to reach for my .45.

"Next question!" snapped the agent again.

I pulled out my .45 and stuck it in his chest.

"Now you're going to start giving me straight answers here, or I'm going to blow you away. You hear me chief?" I asked.

But before the agent could answer, the Weiner fellow returned and grabbed the agent by the arm and fled the bar. Matt looked back at me in total horror and tried to yell some apologies at me for the conduct of his agent. Incensed, I chased after them into the parking lot. They piled into a pick-up truck and sped off. I quickly reached for my stick grenade, lobbed it at them, and then hit the ground. But nothing happened. It was a bloody dud. Damn Gerry ordinance. Oh well. They got away this time but maybe we'll cross paths again- that's really all you can hope for.

We got UFC fans in the Wire!

2005-12-16T13:21:00.000-05:00

So we dee-deed out of Vegas and flew back on the HIND to our base-camp in NorthWest Arizona. It used to be a Hopi Indian reservation, but back in 1989 Evan Belgium swindled the Hopis by trading them three hundred smallpox infected blankets, 200 St. Louis arch trinkets, grapefruit and soap-on-a-rope (what could be more worthless?), a used condom autographed by Chuck Berry, a baseball allegedly autographed by Christopher "Kit" Crokes (it was in fact a mere facsimile), and a box of Bluesfelter stationary, for the rights to the reservation.

Now the bigoted whites that rule America refer to these indigenous Indians as "Native Americans." Can you think of anything more demeaning and degrading than referring to these proud people as "natives?" Neither can I. Damn hate-mongers.

Anyway back to the story- so we swindled the Indians, stole their land, and moved in to set-up a mercenary training compound/fire-support base. When the Hopis realized the Crokes autograph was fake, they were hopping mad, and they said they'd sue us over it. But then they got preoccupied with another case involving peyote use for religious purposes, and never got around to taking us to court.

So on the reservation we set-up a garrison of 30 men, and Belgium constructed a series of fortifications, tents, and sandbags, surrounded by heavy concertina wire. We had one guard tower, an .88 battery, and a few lightly-armor APCs (armored-personnel carriers)with low-caliber anti-tank guns. Not much, but we couldn't go overboard on the firepower thing since we were trying to fool the American government by posing as a legitimate Indian reservation. We even put a few tee-pees and a cardboard saloon around the barracks, and cardboard indians and paper-mache buffalos around the wire. It looked really good although the paint on the buffalos was chipping.

Now after we landed, I waited a bit and then confronted McGelboim in the barracks.

"I know you it was you McGelboim...you left Mills out there to die at the hands of those animals...and the Viet Cong. We don't leave men behind. Ever." I said.

"It was either I save myself, or I die with Mills- so I saved myself. Mills was sacrificed. Are you prepared to sacrifice the lives of any of your men, McStallen?
How many? One? Two? Twenty?
Lives will be lost in this sort of business.
And if you don't have the stomach for it, now is the time to let me know." lectured McGelboim.

"How dare you speak down to me McGelboim!" I yelled, and charged him with my K-Bar.

We started tussling on the ground and gashed each other with our K-Bars, but we were interrupted a few moments later by Evan Belgium--

"I hate to disrupt your sword-fight, but we're under attack! We got UFC fans in the wire! They followed us right through the desert! They're over-running our base camp!" explained Belgium.

McGelboim and I quit wrestling and put on our helmets and flak jackets. We got outside and looked around- incredibly enough there were masses of these blood-thirsty animals laying siege to our base.

I pointed to the HIND. "Belgium- you get that chopper in the air and start laying down some suppressing fire. McGelboim- get in the guard tower and start using that 'fifty' on 'em. I'll take some men and fall back to the command bunker- that's where we'll make our final stand." We parted ways and I grabbed some munitions and any mercenaries I could find and raced to the command bunker. There were about a dozen of us holed up in the command bunker, and we were quickly besieged by hundreds of KFC fans and Viet Cong.

Though lightly armed, the UFC fans were an imposing lot, and worthy adversaries. Many had taken 5 or 6 gun-shots already, and were still standing. Most had bits of their face and brains missing, and their eyes were blood-red as they closed in on us like undead zombies.

Inside the command bunker, our morale was getting low and our ammo was dwindling.
"I'm out! I'm out!," yelled Tshimnaga Bradley, as he threw his SAW to the ground with disgust.
"Yo tambien!," exclaimed Juan Boca as he tossed his M-60 to the ground.
"Don't worry guys- you're with Audie 'friggin' Murphy tonight!" yelled Bunny as he ran out of the command bunker firing his shot-gun at the UFC revelers. We never saw Bunny again.
Otis carson turned to me and said, "Oh crud McStallen, it's now or never..."

I agreed. So I called in one last time to Belgium.
"Belgium- this is Bravo-Six- They've over-run the base- For the record, it's my call! Dump everything you've got left on my pos! I say again, expend all remaining in my perimeter!"

"Roger that Bravo-six, get them in their holes and stay down, this is going to be a big one." responded Lux- err -Belgium.

And with that, Belgium dropped the HIND's massive pay-load on the base camp, explosions and flames ripped through the base, and everything went black for me.

I awoke early the next day in the heavily damaged command bunker. There was alot of blood and crying, but most of us had survived thanks to all the fortifications. But when I emerged from the compound I saw first-hand the true magnitude of the devastation. Bodies, smoke, heaps of twisted metal, and fires were everywhere. The bodies were mostly just UFC fans- I didn't find any of the Cong- and you never do- I learned that the hard way when I was an "advisor" with the ARVN.

Eventually, I came upon McGelboim, who was badly wounded and sitting atop a heap of bodies of former UFC revellers.
"Get me a medic, boy." McGelboim commanded.

I just shook my head and raised my AK-47 at him. He looked angry for a second, but then he relaxed, because he knew what was coming, and he knew there was nothing he could do about it. Now was my chance to get him back for Mills...

But there had been too much killing already, and I just couldn't do anymore. So I threw the assault rifle at him and walked off. It was his lucky day.

One of the APCs was still in usable condition, so I grabbed some rations and hopped in. I didn't know where I was going, but I knew I needed some time off. Some time away from all the death and destruction. A vacation from the slaughter.

So I sped off humming a Steve Winwood song. I wasn't sure which one it was, but I think it was the one in Back To The Future when Michael J Fox is on the skateboard in the beginning. It didn't matter.

But once I got about a mile away from the camp I eyed a few severely wounded UFC fans limping along the side of the road, screaming for help. Evidently they had escaped the attack. Evidently...Despite my recent apparent catharsis, I yelled "Bloody Murder!" and ran them down and crushed them like the dogs they were with my APC. Old habbits die hard.

UFC 67 Part III -The First Casualty of War is Innocence; the Second, is Hyman Mills

2005-12-14T16:02:00.000-05:00

So I fumbled my sub-machine gun, and Frank Trigg got with-in striking distance of me with his knife. Luckily, I had the foresight to place McGelboim in the crowd as a sniper. A former marksman in the Mossad, McGelboim promptly took out Trigg with one shot from his Mannlicher-Carcano bolt-action rifle, and Trigg fell to the ground and died in my arms just like Anwar Sadat had 14 years ago.

With Trigg neutralized, I turned my attention to the Octagon. The Civil Servant now had Mills in a full-body anal suplex and was preparing his finishing move. But I opened up with my sub-machine gun and clipped the Civil Servant and the ref. At that point several of Trigg's henchman as well as some of Crotop's goons and some assorted members of the crowd all started firing on each other and into the Octagon. I dodged the gunfire and ran into the Octagon serpentine and pulled Mills out.

Fortunately, I also had an emergency escape plan- I set-up a rendezvous point outside the arena, and Evan Belgium and Bunny were going to fly in on Belgium's HIND and pick us up and get us back to their base camp in Arizona.

So I radioed to Belgium, "Ripper Bravo Six- Be advised we got beaucoup mayhem in here and everything's gone to hell- We need that evac pronto! Bravo Six out!" Belgium told me to hang in there and that he'd be there in five minutes, so now we just had to get out of the bloody arena.

Mills had taken a few slugs and was bleeding profusely. To calm him, I said "Just hang in there Mills- bird's on the way!"

"Oh yahh!" responded Mills, before he passed out from blood loss.

Some of the gunfire died down and began to give way to a giant no-holds barred melee. There was blood and body parts flying in every direction as members of the crowd tore each other to pieces like animals. There were some explosions and lots of smoke, but I was able to make my way toward the exit carrying Mills on my back, firing at anyone in my path with my .45 -better stopping power than the sub-machine gun. Then I eyed one of Crotop's henchmen in the stands getting ready to fire on me, but I shot first and dropped him with a single shot to the head.

When I got to the exit I bumped into McGelboim and gave Mills to him.
"You and Mills haul ass to the chopper- I'll cover you!"

So McGelboim took off with Mills, and I laid down some covering fire with my sub-machine gun for a minute or so- I went through two clips and then figured it was best I get to the chopper as well.

I got outside and met up with everyone around the HIND, which had just landed in the rendezvous point. But then two pick-up trucks came roaring down the road right at us, concentrating heavy automatic weapons fire on our position. We took cover around the HIND and returned fire. From the cock-pit, Belgium fired a rocket and took out one of the trucks, but the other sped closer to us. I could see the Civil Servant at the wheel, with that blasted maniacal grin of his, driving the pick-up with one hand and firing an uzi with the other. He was yelling something about Smush Parker and diversity jurisdiction. The Bastard.

Bunny fired his shot-gun into the Civil Servant's pick-up truck. He hit the Civil Servant right in the face and the Civil Servant's head blew apart, and the pick-up truck sped out of control, crashed into a parked petroleum truck, and went up in flames.

"Oh man- you see that head come apart?!" inquired Bunny excitedly.
I just shook my head. "The Civil Servant's not dead. You can't kill him. But he's out of the picture for now- that's the best we can do." I responded.

We all got back in the chopper and McGelboim gave a thumbs up to Belgium and we took off.
I was relieved, but then I looked around for a few seconds and realized Mills wasn't on board.

"Where's Mills?" I asked everyone.

"Dead. The Cong got him." responded McGelboim tersely.

The "Cong?" I was shocked. I looked back solemnly at the arena as we flew off, thinking about all the unnecessary violence and death that had just occurred. Why god? Why?

But before I could finish blaming God for all my problems, I saw this strange lone figure- way off in a far corner of the parking lot- running for his life. It was Mills- covered in blood, and being chased by dozens of Crotop's henchmen, some UFC revelers, and a handful of Viet Cong, who seemed a bit out of place all things considered.

"We still got a man down there- its Mills! Turn this crate around and head back!" I yelled.

Belgium nodded and turned the chopper around and headed back towards Mills. Belgium unloaded on Mills' pursuers with the 30 mm cannon and rained bullets on most of the pursuers. I grabbed the .50 cal on the door and took out a few others. But before we could get close enough to pick Mills up, a few of the Viet Cong caught up to Mills and shot him up real good. Mills threw up his arms in silent agony, and then fell to the ground. Dead.

Belgium looked down at Mills, mumbled "Poor bastard," turned the helicopter back around, and we headed back to the base camp.

I leered at McGelboim and he stared back at me for a second or two, and then looked away. Something was rotten and when we got back to base camp I was going to find out exactly what the hell was going on. Mills had been sacrificed, and I needed to know why.

UFC 67 Part II- Ground and Pound!!!

2005-12-09T14:44:00.000-05:00

We ran into all sorts of trouble on our way to Las Vegas- a Peruvian destroyer in international waters, a Miriachi band of Zapatista rebels in Chiapas, and finally a few truckloads of Minute-Men in Arizona --and so the trip took alot longer than expected and we got to KFC 67 about 20 minutes before it was supposed to start. There was a huge line to get in, so Mills and I decided to go in around the back thru the handicapped entrance. We pushed a bunch of wheelchair bound invalids and retards out of the way as we sprinted up the ramp.

But one of their handlers or trainers or whatever you call them, looked over and scolded us, screaming, "Are you guys crazy?? These poor people are disabled and you're pushing them over and trampling them?!"

Angered, I whipped out my sub-machine gun. "Shut-up you!...or I'll give everyone here some real disabilities!" I yelled back.

To show the handler I meant business, I fired a sub machine burst into the air, but Mills looked at me disapprovingly. "They're callin' the cops McStallen. Callin' the cops..." warned Mills.

When we got near the ring we were approached by a big fellow named Cahill, who was a notorious Las Vegas gangster and former button-man for the Ruggeri family.
"Mills is scheduled to fight Frank Trigg's protege tonight. We don't know much about the guy, but we hear he's nuts-- real basket-case-- gotta be to train with Trigg I guess- but the fix is in, RIGHT...?" questioned Cahill.

I nodded.
"One by one, our old friends are gone. Death -- natural or not - prison -- deportation. Hyman Mills is the only one left -- because he always made money for his partners." I said.

Cahill smiled, shook my hand, and walked off.

So then I told Mills to put on his diaper on and get ready for the match.
And the blasted arena was loud as hell with all the cheering and roaring from the crowd, but I could make out one distinct voice from all of that...

"What is this Mills nonsense? I can't believe I have this match with Mills! I mean really, who is this Mills character? I mean Mills, he is in bad bad shape- he has totally let himself go and certainly is no natural athlete. Plus he is lazy like Brian- he does not have the self-discipline to have a routenized and consistent workout schedule. This will hardly be a contest....Shiiiit...."

That voice. I recognized it immediately, and so I slowly looked over and caught a glimpse to confirm things... Sure enough it was the Sacramento Civil Servant, alive and well, and preparing to enter the octagon to fight Mills.

I grabbed Mills and poked his neck with my K-Bar.
"Situation's changed Mills-you can't take a dive. You remember that bloody Sacramento Civil Servant fellow I was telling you about? ...The guy who traded Steve Smith for a bag of peanuts in that fantasy keeper league? ...The guy who burned up that titty bar in Mogadishu? ... And the guy who I think is some sort of super natural demonic spirit put on this planet to plague humanity? Well that's the son of a bitch you're fighting. And you've got to kill him tonight-- because he needs to die." I explained.

"Bastard- that was my favorite titty bar in all of East Africa! I'll waste him!" exclaimed Mills.

Then the ref signaled for the fight to start, and both pugilists immediately charged each other throwing flying hay-makers. Both punches missed, and the combatants collided with each other and fell to the ground, locked in a strange wrestling position.

For the next fifteen minutes the pair appeared dead-locked in a disgusting orgy of Kamasutra-esque grappling and body-locking. Finally, the Civil Servant finally seemed to get the advantage after performing a near flawless reverse anal lock on Mills.

"Check the oil!" yelled one of the spectators.
"Kill him Tony! Kill him! Blood! Blood!" yelled another.
"Release Barabas!" yelled still another.

Mills was barely conscious and taking quite a licking- I knew he couldn't hold out much longer. Then the Civil Servant ripped off Mills' diaper and began to pummel him with it.

"Ground and Pound! Ground and Pound!" chanted the bloodthirsty crowd.

I figured it was now or never- I had to intervene. So I reached into my duffel bag for my sub-machine gun, but at just that moment Frank Trigg charged at with a knife...

UFC 67 Part I -The Fix Is In

2005-12-08T12:04:00.000-05:00

Crotop was really worked up at me after I blew the Hyman Mills hit. So some of Crotop's underlings grabbed me on the street and then grabbed Mills at his hotel and we were taken back to Crotop's compound. Mills and I were forced to sit down, surrounded by skinnies with AKs and itchy trigger-fingers, while Crotop began another lecture. He once again presented me with a task, and once again threatened my life if I refused or failed

"I need you to fix fight. Mills- you will fight. McStallen- you will train. You are going to fight match and lose on purposes. I will bet against you and I will win lots of money. If that goes well, your debts is forgiving and I will let you go. But if not- and if you messing up again- sniper in building will blow your heads up." explained Crotop.

"But I'm a Quaker- I don't fight- not even for my country or my family!" exclaimed Mills.

Crotop socked him in the gut. "Mills, a Quaker don't go around a village cutting off heads and shit, or mowing down prairies dogs with a suped-up golf cart."

"Hey, those rats were mucking up one of the sand traps!" exclaimed Mills

Crotop socked him again. "Mills, you are truly a disgrace." he said.

"Leave him alone!" I yelled.

Crotop stared me down. "OK Mr. Tough-guy- now I punches you too."
And the bugger wound up like a Slavic Pop-Eye and decked me. I just kept my mouth shut from that point on as Crotop outlined the plan...

Mills and I were to go to UFC (Ultimate Fighting Championship) 67 and pose as a fighter and a trainer. As the trainer, I had the responsibility of shaving Mills' back and chest before the fight. Besides that, all I had to do was sit in a chair near the ring for a couple minutes and make sure Mills took a fall. And all Mills had to do was put on a diaper, walk out into the octagon, and let someone kick the crap out of him. And that was it. We didn't know who Mills would be fighting, but Crotop explained it would "probably just be some ass-hole with a shaved head in a diaper."

Mills asked a follow-up question. "That fighter will probably be queerer than a Wausau plumber! What if the bastard tries to sodomize me out there?"

Crotop responded, "Well if and when that happens, you TAKE THE PAIN!!!!!....TAKE THE PAIN!!!!!"

Shiiiit.... UFC 67: THE ULTIMATE REVENGE. Now I'm not sure what exactly the participants are attempting to get their revenge upon, but I suspect they are trying to exact revenge on everyone who has picked on them their whole lives by putting on a diaper, stepping in a ring, and murdering a complete stranger who has done no wrong by them.

The match is in a week in Las Vegas Nevada (USA) so I'll have to sneak back into the States through its unsecured southern border, dodge the minute-men, doctor up some paperwork, and then pose as a trainer. Should be fun and hopefully I can catch a UNLV game out there -although it's not the same without Tark.

Not to digress too much- but about 10 years ago in Malta I killed an innocent bystander in a shoot-out at a market following a botched assassination attempt. The poor bastard looked exactly like Jerry Tarkhanian and for a second I thought it was, and that I had killed a legend through my negligence. So I grabbed his wallet and checked the ID- luckily the fellow's name was something like Anton Buttigieg or something. What a relief.

I'll write more from Las Vegas

Killing Hyman Mills

2005-12-01T09:44:00.000-05:00

So I couldn't get Crotop a girl, and I went back to his compound a little dejected and expecting to be executed. I walked into his office and took a seat across from him at his desk. He was sipping on some borsh and cleaning his .45. I told him I couldn't find him a girl, and he looked at me somewhat sympathetically.

Then he rose to his feet and we talked...

CROTOP
Well McStallen, Did you see that old friend and business partner Hyman Mills is in the news? The superior court of Michigan turned down his request to live there as a returned Quaker. His passport's been invalidated except for Somalia. Mills is holed up in a heavily guarded hotel in Mogadishu. Mills did all my taxes and all the book-keeping for my mercenary work, and I think he's going to rat me out in order to get back into the United States. So I want you to sneak into that hotel and kill him. If you do that, we're even.

McSTALLEN
Ole moneybags Mills? He's a sick old man-his medical condition's reported as terminal -- he's only gonna live another six months anyway.

CROTOP
He's been dying of the same heart attack for twenty years. I want you to finish him off.

McSTALLEN
Crotop that's impossible -- if he is going to cop a plea, they'll turn him over to the Internal Revenue, customs, and half the FBI. It'd be like trying to kill the president -- there's no way we can get to him!

CROTOP
McStallen, you know you surprise me --if anything in this life is certain-- if history has taught us anything-- it's that you can kill anybody.

That Crotop is one stubborn Moldovan Bear. So I did what he said and went to find Mills and kill him. I went in through the back and was pleasantly surprised to see the hotel was unguarded. I snuck into Mills' hotel room and the whole place was a huge mess- beer cans, cigarette butts, AK-47 rounds, and golf balls everywhere. I caught Mills sleeping in bed- he was covered in vomit and beer and mumbling in his sleep about some Emerson kid never calling him back.

I couldn't bring myself to shoot someone who was passed out, so I shook him a bunch of times and tried to wake him up. But he was out cold and didn't budge. I fired a few AK-47 bursts in the room, hoping the gun-fire would wake him up, but it didn't work either. I shook him a few more times and then punched him. Still nothing. I punched him in the face again and chipped a tooth. Still nothing. So I urinated on him and left. Crotop will be pissed, but I live by a code of ethics, and I don't kill women, kids or people that are passed out unless it's by accident.

In the Den of the Moldovan Bear

2005-11-26T17:10:00.000-05:00

I had been wandering around Mogadishu for several days looking for work and getting no love from the locals. Five years ago a well-known international mercenary such as myself walking through Mogadishu's Bukhara Market would get solicited for work in about ten minutes, but hell I must have gone through the damn Bukhara Market fifteen times already this week and not gotten any work. There's too many god damn mercenaries here, and just not enough work or money to go around. And they don't out-source much here- if there's killing to be done, the Somalis just hire other Somalis to do their dirty work, instead of going with more professional, international mercenaries that would do better jobs. The Somalis' close-minded, provincial way of thinking really bugs me, but there's not much I can do about it.

I was however fortunate to come upon a pair of UN relief workers, whom I robbed and then beat the hell out of. They had food and medicine and a little money, so that tided me over for a few days. But when that stuff ran out, I went back to the Bukhara market, hoping for a break.

So I was scanning the crowd, debating whether or not I should just take a random passerby hostage in an effort to get a little ransom money, when suddenly some ass-hole stuck a gun in my back.

"Doan move, McStallen!" said the gunmen.

Immediately I recognized the voice- it was Crotop the Moldovan Bear. He was a moderately successful trial attorney in America for several years until he was deported back to Moldova. Enraged over the deportation, Crotop turned to a life of professional international violence.

Crotop became a well-respected mercenary, and we eventually crossed paths in Chile. I was guarding my old buddy General Augusto, who has been a victim of alot of unfair, biased international press. There were alot of people out to get General Augusto, and some of them paid Crotop to lead an extraction team into General Augusto's house to kidnap him. But Crotop's point man tripped a claymore out front and that alerted us, and we opened up with a couple of .30 calibers from the house- it was a real turkey shoot. We got about half his team right there on the front lawn, and the rest retreated. The mission was widely considered to be a huge failure for Crotop, and he had alot of trouble getting work for the next six months or so- rumor had it he was even black-listed by the entire Latin American mercenary community. So needless to say Crotop was not very fond of me.

Anyway Crotop took me at gun-point to his compound in northern Mogadishu. He sat me down in a chair and tied me to it.

"If you're not CCCP, you're not shit!" he roared as he pointed to his T-shirt emblazoned with the words "CCCP."

I wasn't in the mood for Soviet propaganda.
"What do you want, you poor-man's-Romanian?!" I demanded.

"I want American women. Get me late McStallen. You know American women. You introduce me and get me late. I doan know American women, and I doan know what to say to them. But you do- so get me late. That's all I want now- American women. All I want. Get me late." he said.

Well, let me tell you, that is a tall order- I only know a few American women, and the possibility that any of them are currently in Somalia is extremely low. Compounding matters was the fact that Crotop is a bloody social retard and it's tough finding any poor girl to pass him off on.

I asked him if he had tried J-Date or some other on-line service, but that only enraged The Bear and he fired a .45 slug right by my ear.

"YOU get me late. No J-Date. No mail order. You McStallen- You get me late!" roared Crotop.

I told him I'd get him a girl if he let me go, and that it was "laid," not "late." He told me I had 48 hours to produce "American women," or one of his underlings would whack me. He put a couple of tails on me, and I embarked on a presumably hopeless search.

McStallen and the Devil

2005-11-18T18:31:00.000-05:00

So we went to this traditional Somali nudie bar and I had a few Genessee Cream Ales and was feeling a little bit tipsy. I bought the captain a few lap dances and he seemed pretty content. It looked like everyone was having alot of fun, but suddenly an explosion went off outside and a giant ball of fire crashed through the window of the titty bar.

People were panicking and trying to flee and trampling each other and it was a big mess. The captain escaped by crashing through a side wall and left a cartoonish silhouette in the spot that he exited. Then I saw a man in a wheel chair helplessly burning up, and I started laughing. But I quickly covered up my grin when I realized it was in poor taste to laugh at something like that. But a few seconds later I caught myself laughing again, and once again I had to compose myself.

The smoke and flames began to clear a little, and low and behold, who should appear but the Sacramento civil servant. Two skinnies rushed at him swinging their machetes, but the civil servant fired his eye-beams at them and they instantly burst into flames. Then the civil servant turned its attention to me.

I aimed my BAR at him, and he once again fired his eye beams, this time easily melting the trusty weapon that I had killed so many people with. The civil servant got with-in a foot of me and I tried to look away but couldn't. This demonic figure was about 5'10, and sweating profusely. He had horns on his head, and was wearing a badly singed L.A. Rams sweatshirt. He had very hairy horse-like legs, hooves for feet, and an evil fork-shaped devil tail.

He stared me down and bellowed, "I believe you have something that belongs to me, and I want it back!"

I held up the fantasy sports binder and pointed at the name tag on front, which read "LA Sports Buff."

"Is that you? Are you the 'LA Sports Buff?'" I asked.

It nodded and coughed up mucus on its face.

"Well the binder can burn in hell!" I growled, as I threw the book into the flames.

The civil servant howled "NOOOOOOO!!!!!" and put its arms over it's eyes. The book quickly incinerated in the flames, and when it did, the civil servant spontaneously combusted in a poof of smoke.

One of the skinnies approached me and asked what all this was about. I told him it was a long story and that he should mind his own god damn business. I grabbed an AK-47 that had been hastily discarded in the fracas, and left the bar. It was time for some sight-seeing.

Terror on the High Seas

2005-11-17T21:17:00.000-05:00

I made it to a port in northern California, and boarded the SS Petros, a large Greek freighter bound for the horn of Africa. I asked to see the captain- he was a large burly man with a goatee and mustache, wearing a dingy Dallas Cowboys hat. I offered him 15 cases of cigarettes if he'd let me tag along and drop me off in Mogadishu, and he said "Sure!," but that I also owed him a lap-dance when we got to Africa. I gave him a puzzled look. Once he clarified that the lap-dance was to come from a stripper and not from me (I was merely to pay for the lap-dance), I felt relieved and agreed. So here I was heading to Somalia, by way of the southern shore of Africa, just like the great Vasco De Gama.

But things aren't going well. The civil servant I meant at Kinko's -well, I stole one of his fantasy binders- I just had to see what kind of insight this dark spirit had. His binders contained numerous legal pads that meticulously out-lined 4 way fantasy trades involving players like Smush Parker, Brad Johnson, and Eric Moulds, to fantasy owners named "Hapless Kyle" and "Evil Rick Y" and "Lazy Brian" and "Flakey Mike," plotted NFL schedules for the next 68 years, identified the penis size of every kicker in the AFC, and even outlined an assassination plot of Gray Davis.

Once we made it to the Indian Ocean, we noticed that we were being followed by a small black vessel. The vessel eventually got within 1000 feet of our ship, and that's when I realized it was that same blasted Sacramento civil servant, pursuing us half-way around the world like a cursed ghoul chasing a stolen sacred relic. His eyes were burning red with rage, and he had a maniacal grin on his face. Although he had a coat and tie on, by God I don't think he was wearing any pants.

As the civil servant followed us, several of the crew of the Petros became ill, and one even fell overboard and drowned (he was a Turk so no one even tried to save him or throw him a life-preserver). So the civil servant was scaring the shit out of the crew, who believed he was some sort of evil spirit seeking vengeance upon us. The crew begged me to throw the fantasy binder overboard in hopes that would end the civil servant's pursuit, but I refused them. I persuaded them that violence was the proper and only solution for this scenario. So when this demonic figure brought his craft a little closer, I opened up on him with my BAR. I got him with a few rounds and he let a fiendish howl, and then he pulled his craft back out of range and eventually disappeared into the horizon.

We thought we had lost him for sure and we drew course to settle into port as night fell. The captain reminded me about the lap-dance, and we were preparing to dock and head into town for a night of debauchery. But then the unthinkable occurred....Pandellos, the first-mate, caught a glimpse of the civil servant- there he was maybe 3 miles out to sea, like a dancing devil, back-pedaling through cone drills on the top of his craft in the moonlight, seemingly oblivious to our presence. And from our vantage point it appeared as if he had grown horns, hooves, and a tail. We figured something big was about to happen.

The captain told us to batten down the hatches and to prepare to defend ourselves. We aimed the ship's .88 deck gun at the craft, and the crew armed themselves with whatever sorts of rifles, knives, bottles, etc they could find. But at just that moment an overwhelming fog descended upon our ship. Many of the men began to cough and cry, but fortunately it cleared up after a few minutes. We then looked out upon the haunted sea preparing to open fire, but to our dismay the civil servant and his craft were nowhere to be found. The captain stared with awe for a few minutes, but then instructed the crew to dock and head into town to buy lap-dances and cigarettes. "No doubt." I said, as I followed them into town. No doubt.

An Incident at Kinko's

2005-11-08T13:47:00.000-05:00

So I was just sitting there Sunday, listening to this old hick named Grampa Nuttelman spin yarns about his heroes like Bert Starr, Paul Horny, Marge Scott, and Teddy Higuera, and I just had it. I couldn't stay in that hell-hole another day. So I went upstairs, grabbed a back-pack full of clothes and my BAR, and decided to hitch-hike out of here. I am violating the terms of my plea bargain, but I just don't care.

I had been reading about some shit going down to Somalia. People have been running into those blasted Somali pirates again. Loyal readers will recall I had some trouble with a band of Indonesian pirates in July. And as many of you know, Mogadishu is to me what Mecca is to Arabs. So I just feel that's where I need to be- in the shit - in Somalia. So the plan was to go cross-country to California, and then sneak onto a freighter bound for East Africa.

I've made it to Sacramento CA, and I am in a Kinkos' copy store which features pay-by-the-minute internet access. So I am updating my blog, and sitting next to this well-dressed man in a suit who is scaring the hell out of me. He appears to be some sort of civil servant, but he is carrying many binders full of fantasy football stats and appears to be accessing numerous fantasy football sites. He keeps mumbling the phrase "Toma-oka," and is holding a nude doll of Steven Jackson in one hand, and a vintage WWII German potato masher grenade in the other. He's got a hunting rifle with an infrared scope in his back-pack- it takes skill to kill with a rifle- and I can tell this man is prepared to use it. I stared at him once out of curiosity, but he stared back at me- with this cold, lifeless look- like he was just seeing right thru me- I've seen it once before- about a decade ago in Srebrenica- and I could tell just by the look in his eyes that he had killed many people- probably more than me. Whoever or whatever he is, I know this evil figure parted ways with the rest of humanity long ago. And now he's starting to shake, so I can tell he's going to try something- so I'm going to log out in a minute and just try to leave real quietly- not make any sudden motions or anything like that. If all goes well I'll write when I make it to Mogadishu.

The Revenge of the Football Gods

2005-11-01T10:28:00.000-05:00

So this Hmong trapper comes down from the mountains to re-supply his cabin. A couple of the locals spotted him as he left the general store and decided to harass him- you know how they feel about outsiders. But this trapper guy- he was pretty irritable and one thing led to another and then some shooting started. The trapper took a .22 round in the leg but managed to shoot his way out of town and headed back into the mountains. We ended up having to form a posse and track the trapper into the wilderness with some dogs, sleds and we even got this RCAF canuck to help out with his bi-plane. It was pretty damn cold- and God knows I hate the cold- but it was all worth it when we finally cornered the poor bastard and filled him full of lead. We let the dogs eat the trapper's body as a reward for all their hard work.

I think these strange Waukesha Lutherans with plastered-down hair are really taking a liking to me. They told me I did a great job on the death hunt of the trapper, and they were thrilled I was teaching their children the proper form and eitquette for hand grenade lobbing that I had learned during my black op days. So on Saturday night I was really feeling good about things and just trying to settle down for a good night's sleep. And that's when it happened- that's when I was visited by cursed The Football Gods...

First I noticed the smell of burning incense, and then three ominous figures suddenly appeared. They were each about eight-feet tall, clad in bed-sheets, and they were chanting apocalyptic predictions regarding the collective fates of my fantasy football teams. I grabbed the .44 from under my pillow and fired six rounds into them. Nothing happened- blasted slugs went right through them. So I jumped under my bed and tried to hide, and the sons of bitches circled my bed for what seemed like hours- chanting as they went. At some point I passed out, and I awoke the next morning in my bed hoping it was all just a dream. But my .44 was empty, and the days' NFL events confirmed the Football Gods horrific predictions...

Here's a summary of some of the doom and gloom...
Daunte Culpepper -Daunte injured his knee yesterday and is done for the season, proving that things can indeed continue to get worse for the pitiful Vikings. And if you just signed Brad Johnson, you're an idiot
Anquan Boldin -'quan had a nice TD catch but then bruised his knee and may miss some time
Mark Bradley -Bradley had an excellent preseason and was en route to a break-out game yesterday before he went down with a torn ACL. Season's over, rook
Priest Holmes- add "concussion" to the laundry list of injuries for the Priest. Does Larry Johnson get the start next week?
Randy Moss -Randy has a whole mess of injuries, and he is presently serving as a decoy, fooling both oppising defenses and fantasy owners alike
Jevon Kearse -the Eagles defense surrendered 564 yards and 49 points to the Broncos yesterday, as the Freak spent most of the game on the sidelines with a shoulder injury

My First Week in Waukesha

2005-10-25T14:17:00.000-04:00

Somebody once wrote "Hell is the impossibility of Reason." That's what Waukesha feels like. I hate it already and it's only been a week.

I live with a bunch of right-wing insane Lutheran dildo farmers that all have their hair plastered down in the front, drive suped-up IROCs with manziers, and can't make a decision without first considering what their grandfather would do. We get up at 5 a.m., work on the farm all day, camp around 4 or 5 p.m., dig foxholes, eat, then put out an all-night ambush for mettlesome big-city folk that may are known to wander into our town every once in a while. A few nights ago we came upon a city-slicker from New York city who was attending Grinnell College. He was a long way from Grinnell, and an even longer way from New York City. So we took him out to the main cornfield, tied him to some stalks, and then burned him alive.

Anyway, if you're lucky you get to stay in the perimeter at night and then you pull a 3-hour guard shift, so maybe you sleep 3-4 hours a night, but you don't really sleep ...

It's scary cause nobody tells me what to do because I'm new and nobody cares about the new guys- they don't even want to know your name. The unwritten rule is a new guy's life isn't worth as much because he hasn't put his time in yet - and they say if you're gonna get killed in the Waukesha, it's better to get it in the first few weeks, the logic being: you don't suffer as much...

... the hardest thing I think I've ever done is gone cow-tipping. I don't even know what I'm doing. A cow could be standing 3 feet in front of me and I wouldn't know it, I'm so tired. I don't think I can keep this up for a year, grandma - I
think I've made a big mistake coming here ...

--------------------------------------
I tried to talk football with these people, but they are all delusional cheese-dick FudgePacker fans and I can't have a reasonable conversation with them. One told me Don Majkowski ("the Magic Man") was robbed of the league MVP title in 1989, at which point I pointed by BAR right into his gut.
Oh well. It has been a tough fantasy football season for alot of people and I guess emotions get high. I had drafted Ahman Green and Deuce McAllister in one of my leagues, and I can't help but blame the "football gods" for the demise of that team. But the "football gods"... HA! Who would believe in such nonsense?

Leaving the Life

2005-10-22T11:16:00.000-04:00

The UN guys, they offered me a deal. They said I'd go free if I'd rat out some of my old acquaintances. So I made up a lot of stuff about them because that's what they wanted to hear- but it was all lies - uh - everything. And they kept saying McGelboim killed this guy, and Ricky Beltran blew-up that guy, and that intoxicated Kick Save Records CEO defrauded his shareholders... And I was like "Sure... Why not?!" The tribunal bought it, so some of my old friends are in alot of trouble.

They had me in an army barracks air-tight for a few days but yesterday they moved me to Waukesha Wisconsin (USA) so I can begin my new life in middle-America as part of the witness protection program.

The hardest thing is to leave the life. I loved the life. We were treated like kings. We had it all. I had bags filled with severed heads stashed in my kitchen. I had a bowl full of ears next to my bed. We controlled everything. We paid off judges. We carpet-bombed a home for the mentally challenged. We strafed the Sacramento Kinko's office every Wednesday at 1pm EST. Everything was for the taking. And when we wanted something- we just took it. We looted Middle Eastern museums. We spit on wheelchair-bound senior citizens. I stole a little girl's bike once (don't worry- I gave it back after I rode around the block once or twice).

And now it's all over. And that's the hardest part. Now everything is different. There's no action in Waukesha. I have to wait around for welfare checks just like everyone else in the town. I can't even get decent food. After I got here I ordered a bratwurst with sauerkraut... ...and I got a penis with relish. I'm an average nobody. I have to ride the bus like an ass-hole. I get to live the rest of my life like a schnook.

Mercenaries are Good

2005-10-17T10:50:00.000-04:00

Apparently the International Criminal Court has been building a case on me for a while, and this morning I was put on trial before a joint UN-ICC tribunal. It's quite a spectacle really- there were more people here than at a ball game- political reps from all sorts of countries and NGOs, Willie Cicci, Tyson Chandler, the great American patriot Oliver North, and a whole bunch of other criminal justice and military folk. The tribunal allowed me to make an opening statement, and I have provided a transcript of that statement on the blog...

----------------------------------------------------------
"I appreciate you giving me the opportunity to speak, Chairman Cromwell...
...since you are putting me on trial for crimes against humanity... (laughter)

The world...the world has become a mess.
Countries are always bickering, stock-piling weapons. Illicit regimes come and go. Armies lay massed at borders waiting for a spark to start a fire.
In the days of the great dictators, there was order.
Men like Ghengis Khan and Alexander the Great built great empires, controlled everything, and brought order to the world!
Today, there are no great leaders... and there is no order!

So who controls the world now?
You do. That's right, you, the citizens of the world.
And you are all being royally screwed over by the UN and all these other international organizations ...with their oil-for-food scandals, their tolerance of genocide, and their refusal to put an end to international conflicts! There must be 50 different officials in here from 50 different international organizations, and I have no idea what any of them do!

That's where I come in- In the last fourteen deals that I have done, I have deposed four illicit regimes, destroyed 125 tons of enemy equipment and munitions, and slaughtered over 300 armed combatants.
(applause)

I am not a destroyer of nation-states...
I am a liberator of them!
(more applause)

The point is, ladies and gentlemen, that 'mercenaries,' for lack of a better word...
...are good.
Mercenaries are right.
Mercenaries divide, mercenaries unite, mercenaries clarify, and mercenaries cleanse
Mercenaries have marked the upward surge of mankind.
And mercenaries, you mark my words,will save the world.
Thank you very much.
(applause)"
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McStallen Captured!

2005-10-12T10:41:00.000-04:00

This is about as bad as it gets folks. I'm still in Chad, and this morning I was meeting in an urban compound with a bunch of mercenaries and some clandestine government officials, mapping out our latest campaign against the subversive indigenous forces. Suddenly several American helicopters appeared overhead and a US ranger squad burst into our compound, yelling that they were going to take us prisoner. Well I can assure you, we're not the type of people you take alive- so naturally everyone started shooting, and the proverbial shit really hit the proverbial fan when Tshimaga Bradley shot down one of the US choppers with his RPG. The chopper crashed in the middle of the square right smack in a crowd of skinnies - Horny Ed and Evan Belgium ran out to try and kill any survivors in the chopper, but they were cut down by a ranger firing a SAW from a rooftop -the whole scene was very surreal- like right out of a Ridley Scott fantasy movie like Bladerunner or Alien or something. Anyway I shot my way out of there with my Thompson, and made it back to the safehouse about a mile away.

About an hour later I was attending to a wound on my arm, when suddenly a lone American government agent dressed in black with a beard and big black 80's sun-glasses appeared outside on a motorcycle. I went to grab my panzerfaust from the weapons cabinet as the American zipped around the house. Before I could get to the weapon, the American burst thru the window of the safehouse on his motorcycle, and floored me with an elbow. Now on the ground, I reached for an AK-47 lying on the floor. But he stepped on my hand and broke a few fingers. Then I reached for my boot-knife but he grabbed the knife from me before I could use it on him, and threw the knife out the window. Then he pulled me up and administered several damaging karate chops. Finally he dragged me outside the house and proceeded to give "high-fives" to the other American agents that had gathered outside. He loaded me onto the motorcycle, and as we sped off he blew up the safehouse with a blast from his rear-firing motorcycle rocket

So anyway he took me back to the US consulate and I am meeting with a US Justice Department official in a few minutes. Now I'll have to resort to making some sort of deal with this American puppet- sell out some old acquaintances thru a plea- you know how it goes

A Guest National Football League Prognosticator!

2005-10-05T17:38:00.000-04:00

Friends

Well boy do I have a treat in store for all of you. I went down for a little R&R in Zimbabwe and ran into former Purdue Boilermaker and current Chicago Bear quarterback Kyle Orton who was vacationing there for his bye week. I cornered Mr. Orton and pleaded for him to give me his NFL week 5 picks. Although he was extremely intoxicated, he spewed forth several paragraphs of gridiron wisdom that I will pass along to my loyal beloved readers. Without further ado, I present to you my interview with Mr. Kyle Orton:

McSTALLEN:
Mr. Orton- my name is McStallen and I kill people. I am a fan of American football and would appreciate it if you could handicap some NFL picks for me- specifically your contest this weekend against the Browns of Cleveland Ohio. Fear not- in your intoxicated state you lack the requisite mental capacity to be charged with illicit gambling activities.

ORTON:
You say you kill people old man? Well you don't look so tough McStallen. What are you going to do ...Arrest me?

McSTALLEN:
No no - I simply want your football pick.

ORTON:
My what?
(pointing to a Somali recently killed in a knife fight on the other side of the bar)
Hey is that your friend over there on the floor? You know he died like a pig?

McSTALLEN:
What friend? Where?

ORTON:
I said your friend died like a stuck Irish pig.
(starts to comb his hair and walk away)
-you think about that when I beat the rap.

McSTALLEN:
Did he sound anything like THAT!!!!
(at this point I am infuriated, and do my best Charles Barkley impersonation and toss Mr. Orton out a bar window. Fifteen minutes later Mr. Orton comes to, and we resume the interview- this time he's tied up in a chair and I am standing a few feet away with my Browning Automatic Rifle aimed at his head)

McSTALLEN:
You have to answer for the Bears, Kyle.

ORTON:
McStallen, you got it all wrong...

McSTALLEN:
You fingered Sonny for the Barzini people. Ahhh that little farce you played - you think that could fool a sociopathic mercenary?

ORTON:
Wait- Sonny who? McStallen, I don't know -- I swear on the kids -- Please, McStallen, don't kill me!

McSTALLEN:
I'm not going to kill you- c'mon Kyle- You think I'd kill the Bears only serviceable starting quarterback? Just don't tell me you don't know who's going to win. Because it insults my intelligence -- makes me very angry...
So who's going to win? You or the Browns?

ORTON: (sobbing)
We're going to win...we'll cover- expect big fantasy games from Thomas Jones and newcomer Matt Bradley.

McSTALLEN:
Good. There's a camel waiting for you outside to take you to the airport. I'll call Coach Smith, and tell him you're on your way.

ORTON:
McStallen, please...

McSTALLEN:
Come on -- get outta my sight.

Government Raid/More Worthless Football Picks

2005-09-30T16:41:00.000-04:00

I killed a man today. It was the first man I killed in 3 months. Granted it wasn't the first person I killed in 3 months, but that's neither here nor there. Anyway he was a young guy, maybe 18 or 19, unarmed, manning a guardpost with a pair of binoculars on the outskirts of a northern Chad desert village believed to be harboring rebel forces. Anyway I crawled up within about 50 meters of the guardpost and got him with the cross-bow. Arrow went right through the throat and he had it. With the guard eliminated, the government commando unit busted in and met little resistance. My squad leader, who is about 45 years younger than me, congratulated me on the shot. We searched the village up and down but didn't find anything. I guess we have these rebel forces on the run because a few months ago vilages like these used to often contain weapons caches and equipment. Anyway everything went smoothely and I really felt good about myself for the first time in a long time. And the best part is that no one got hurt - well except just the guy I killed with the cross-bow- but he probably had it coming to him.

I haven't paid much attention to the NFL recently, so I thought I'd forward along some NFL picks I have recieved from some of my loyal readers:

Arizona (giving 2 1/2) covers vs. San Fransisco
"It's gut-check time in San Fran. If we lose we're the worst team in the NFL. If we win we're just a young up-and-comer that got off to a bad start. We're at home and I'm guaranteeing a victory- and that we cover- so take Arizona giving 3 to San Fran."
Denny G, Phoenix AZ, USA

Detroit (getting 6 1/2) covers vs. Tampa Bay
"Tampa Bay is off to a nice start, but we had a bye and we're playing a must-win game. We're going to try and finally establish the run and hopefully wear these clowns down. And what the hell- we're getting 6 1/2. Tampa Bay only beat Green Bay by a point last week- failing to cover- so I don't think Griese and wil beat uus by 7."
Tshimnaga Bradley, Gross Point Mich, USA

Buffalo (even) covers vs. New Orleans
"The Katrina hoopla is fading and so is the Saints' morale - Joe Horn is a game-time decision and the 'Aints got nothing to play for. Buffalo's an up-and-comer, fresh off a 140-yard performance from Willis McGahee. Sure the Saints are the 'home-team,' but what kind of homefield advantage is that?"
Kyle R, Buffalo New York

Houston (getting 10) covers vs. Cincy
"Folks we could see the Bengals in the Super Bowl. They got great odds so lay some money out now. But as for this week, the Texans are fresh off a bye and likely have some perverbial tricks up their perverbial sleeves. Ten points is alot to cover- so take a chance on the Texans and their new offensive coordinator."
Homer Van Meter, the Midwest

Mucking thru the Desert/ Uncle Redd's Week 3 PigSkin Picks!

2005-09-22T10:03:00.000-04:00

Who would have thought at my age I'd still be humping through the bush like an 18-year old raw recruit? Well that's what happened here- basically Horny Ed needed every swinging-dick he had in the field, and my assignment in Chad has evolved into a bloody search and destroy mission for the government of Chad. Basically, we drop alot of bombs and then walk through the desert like ghosts in a landscape, searching for opposition forces. Well here I am - anonymous all right, with guys nobody really cares about - they come from the end of the line, most of them, small nation-states you never heard of- Lesotho, Gabon, Comoros, Kiribati, Turkmenistan, Wampum, Pennsylvania. Two years of elementary school is about it, and maybe if they're lucky a job waiting for them back at the local rice paddie or irrigation ditch- They're the bottom of the barrel -that's why they call them 'grunts'- cause a 'grunt' can take it- can take anything. They're the best I've ever seen - maybe I've found it finally, way down here in the sand - maybe from down here I can start up again and be something I can be proud of, without having to fake it- like Gandpa in the Boer War- maybe I can see something I don't yet see, learn something I don't yet know ...
----------------------------------------------------------
Sorry for all the soul-searching- anyway Uncle Redd has e-mailed me his "NFL week 3 PigSkin Picks"- feel free to gamble away all your life-savings on a few paragraphs of his drivel:

Sunday
Jacksonville at the Jets- folks I have been talking up the Jags all year- now it's time to get on the bandwagon and start winning money with me- take the underdog Jags in this one- they're getting three points and they have been nothing but spectacular this year. They covered last week against the Colts and an injury concern to Byron Leftwich and Donovan Darius has bettors taking the home team in this one. But Curtis Martin is dinged up and the swarming Jags defense will cover- I shit you not

Carolina at Miami- Miami is improving, at home, and getting 3 1/2 points. But I say "So what!" The Panthers are an elite team playing solid smash-mouth football and they will win and cover. Miami has a great defense (and many bettors are still sore that the Fish beat Pats near the end of last year) so don't expect too much scoring. Expect alot of running early on from both teams, and expect to see the Panthers wear down the Dolphins on the ground- the combination of Stephen Davis and DeShaun Foster is alot more potent than Ronnie Brown. Stud DT Kris Jenkins is out for the Panthers, but the Panthers stopped Corey Dillon cold last week sans Jenkins.

Tampa Bay at Green Bay- The Bucs are giving 3 1/2 despite playing in Lambeau, but I say take them anyway. Tampa Bay is emerging as a very solid play-off contender and Green Bay is a dog-shit franchise. The Packers' defense is terrible and Tampa Bay will score early and often. If you saw Braylon Edwards' or Steve Heiden's TDs last week, you'd know exactly what I mean. Expect a blow-out, and some last-game heroics from Burt Favre that come up about 10-15 points short. But remember, the Packers are the underdog and the game is in Green Bay, so check the weather report before you lay down any money...

Monday Night
Kansas City at Denver- Time to double-up on Monday night to make up for all your Sunday losses. And it's time to take the Chiefs. The Chiefs have played sound football this year and are getting 3 points. I think they pull out a victory. The favored Broncos have home-field advantage, but that's about it. Their backfield is a mess and their passing game is very inconsistent. Gamblers are high on them after they snuck out a victory over the 0-2 Chargers last week, but I don't think they can pull it off two weeks in a row. After years of tinkering, the Chiefs are finally playing the type of solid football under Dick Vermeil that Vermeil's Super Bowl Philadelphia and St Louis teams played.

Not with a 10-foot pole...
The 0-2 Vikings are garbage and are favored against the emotionally charged New Orleans Saints. Folks, no one really knows how good or bad the Vikings are yet- that will all come out over the next few weeks- so either team has the capability to win this game by 20-30 points, and they both have their backs against the wall, so stay away and don't lay any money down on this one, because anything can happen here...

Killing time (and people) in Chad

2005-09-14T10:15:00.000-04:00

I made my way to Chad with McGelboim. He chided me for failing to provide any background data about him on my previous blog postings. Well here goes- McGelboim is an ace pilot who comes from a family of distinguished mercenary pilots- his grandfather claims to be the first man to ever drop an incindiary bomb on a population center. And his mother claims to be the first woman to have done so.

To the right, here I am saying "Hi" to some of the nice citizens of Chad

Anyway so we were just hanging out killing time playing a game called "Toss the Baby." If you're unfamiliar with the game, it goes something like this- two people scan the streets for a woman with a baby carriage. When you find one, the one guy distracts the woman, while the other runs up to the carriage, grabs the baby, and throws it as far as he can. Then you both run like hell. Sort of like "ring and run," although it pisses people off alot more. And if you can't find a baby, you could try a dog or a cat, but be careful because they bite alot more than babies.

Well we did that for a bit but then it got too hot and we ducked into a local bar for a cool drink. In the corner of the bar I saw an old friend of mine, Horny Ed. Ed goes way back with American intel- pre-dating the CIA - so this is OSS real old school covert ops. God Ed's about 10 years older than me. So one old war horse to another, I asked him what was going on and then quickly got down to business. I told him I was out of work and had been shot numerous times over the past few years, and was looking for an assignment that wouldn't entail too much leg work.

Well Horny Ed told me he was in Chad because he expects something big to go down. He wouldn't get too specific but he said several Western intelligence organizations are setting up shop here. He expects things to get a little hairy and he needs some help. I offered to be his consiglieri for the duration of the operation, but he told me he didn't think I would be a good war-time consiglieri. Nevertheless he offered me some work as a body-guard and contract killer for him. He told me to just lay low and wait for him to get back to me- he also wanted me to knock off the baby-tossing because he figured that might draw too much attention.

McStallen's New Orleans Relief Fund

2005-09-01T17:44:00.000-04:00

Kruschev never had the balls to do it. Al quaeda couldn't do it. Tojo didn't have the resources to do it. Pancho Villa tried but couldn't do it. But an incompetent mayor, mother nature, and the pathetic dispositions of 400,000+ ignorant complacent southern retards could do it.

What am I talking about? Why destroying an American city of course. And in the last one hundred years, no one has been able to destroy an American city, not until now anyway, when Hurricane Katrina turned New Orleans (Louisiana) into Atlantis meets Mogadishu. It is the 21st-century, yet the hapless civil engineers of the Big Easy were no match for mother nature, though they've been expecting a massive flood for hundreds of years, ever since the French constructed this soup bowl-esque city. New Orleans mayor Ray Nagin is "pissed" about the slow federal response- well hey Ray, maybe alot of outsiders are "pissed" that you don't know how to handle a hurricane, had absolutely horrific civic planning regarding the disaster, and that your citizens seem to be developing latent paramilitary complexes. This clown Nagin and his bungling beaurocratic cohorts negligently permitted this town to be protected with insufficient levies, allowing New Orleans to swept away like it was some ancient Babylonian city, and he had horrific contingency planning. But like all Americans, his first reaction is to blame outside forces for this. Christ Nagin, look in the mirror man!

And instead of coming together as people often do in times of trouble, the beleaguered citizens are blaming the rest of America for not coming to the rescue quickly enough, shooting at their would-be rescuers, looting for useless electronics, and just disgracing themselves as human beings. I don't think there're any people left in the city really- just animals.

And now I say we finish this city off once and for all. So I am starting the "McStallen New Orleans Relief Fund," in which I intend to permanently relieve the world of New Orleans by obliterating the city and its remaining inhabitants with a strategic bombing raid. Look, the city is screwed up and will cost billions and billions to fix. Yet I can make the entire problem go away for less than $500,000. Yes, that's right folks-less than $500,000.

"How?" you ask. I'll tell you how...With your help- I will need your donations. And for every $20,000 I receive in tax-deductible donations from you all, I shall drop one (1) 10,000-pound bomb on New Orleans. By targeting the few remaining functioning levies, the relief centers, any gas or fuel reserves, and any other nerve centers, I think I can wipe New Orleans completely off the map for $320,000 (16 total bombs). As you all know, the McStallen Assault Helicopter holds 18 bombs (though the children's toy version of the helicopter holds only 12), so this should all take about 20 minutes.

And every donation matters- no matter how big or how small- just so long as it's from the heart and helps pay for bombs that kill people. So even if it's just fifty cents, -yes, that's right, as little as the price for a cup of coffee- I'll make sure your money counts and blow some people up for you.

And I know many of you are troubled that the corrupt incompetent southern bureaucrats responsible for this mess will be spared from the bombing as they are likely safe in their mansions on high ground, talking about how they're going to get the Duke boys. And that's a valid concern. But in time, maybe I'll devise a way to kill or imprison them as well. So my dear friends, please be patient.

As for now, I am asking all of you to dig deep from the bottom of your hearts and send me money. Time is running out and the urban population will be too scattered with-in 72 hours for this sort of bombing to be effective.

Please, send money now

Contact info:
Mikhael McStallen
187 Napalm Lane
Old Somersette
Saint Kitts & Nevis

Thank you

Expansion Site?

2005-08-25T10:37:00.000-04:00

Over the last few months I have received quite a few e-mails from readers requesting I open up another web-site to record my manifesto and chronicle more of my exploits. That's an outstanding idea and you all should be pleased to know that I am currently in negotiations with NFL runningback-turned-arms-dealer-turned-web-site-entrepeneur Moe Williams to purchase his web-site. Here is the transcript of our most recent correspondence from earlier this week:

MCSTALLEN
My credit good enough to buy you out, Moe?

MOE
Buy me out?

MCSTALLEN
Your web-site- I want to buy it.

MOE
You want to buy me out? No -- I buy you out, you don't buy me out --

MCSTALLEN
Your web-site loses money -- maybe I can do better...

MOE
You think I'm skimmin' off the top, Mikhael?

MCSTALLEN
No- You're unlucky.

MOE
You goddamn mercenaries really make me laugh -- I do you a favor and let Juan Boca post on my site when you're having a bad time, and then you try to push me out?!

MCSTALLEN
Wait a minute -- you let Juan Boca post on your site because his jibberish attracted readers and helped bankroll your web-site! And because the Molinari family guaranteed your safety- Now we're talking business -- let's talk business...

MOE
Yeah -- let's talk business, Mikhael. First of all, you're all done. You don't have that kind of readership anymore. Juan Boca's dead, right? You're old and you're getting chased out of cyber-space by Geocities and a bunch of pacifist teeny-boppers using their web-sites to protest violent idiots like yourself-- What do you think is going on here? You think you can come to my web-site and take over? -- I talked to Geocities -- I can make a deal with them, and still keep my web-site!

MCSTALLEN
Is that why you slapped Juan Boca around in public?

MOE
Whooaa...I gotta business to run. I gotta kick asses sometimes to make it run right. We had a little argument, Juan and I, so I had to straighten him out...

MCSTALLEN
You straightened my former sidekick out?

MOE
He was writing posts entirely in Spanish two at a time! Readers didn't know what the hell he was trying to say! What's wrong with you?

MCSTALLEN
I leave for St Kitts tomorrow -- think about a price.

MOE
Sonofabitch! Do you know who I am?! I'm Moe Williams! I was strafing day-care centers in Nepal when you were going out with cheerleaders!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
So Moe's a tough nut to crack- he runs hard and bargains hard. If he doesn't agree to sell me his site I'll probably have to shoot him.

Uncle Redd's PigSkin Preview

2005-08-23T15:36:00.000-04:00

So I caught up with Uncle Redd at that second wedding in Russia- I followed him into the men's room and and drew my firearm and shoved it up his ass and told him I was going to waste him. He started begging for mercy and offered to post some fantasy football tips on my blog in exchange for his life. I figured it was a great opportunity for me to finally get some American football stuff up on my blog since my knowledge of the sport is rather limited- so I took him up on the offer. I edited out most of the profanity and racial slurs, and posted his thoughts here...

Uncle Redd's Late Risers
Mike Anderson, RB Den -despite all the Tatum Bell hoopla, Anderson is slated to start for the Broncos. He rushed for 1500 yards and 15 TDs when he started in 2000

Carson Palmer, QB Cin -he has a great cast around him and all the requesite skills, so he should be ready to turn the corner

Drew Brees, QB SD -has looked sharp in the preseason and is picking up where he left off in 2004 - you may be able to steal him late because of the Antonio Gates hold-out nonsense

DeShaun Foster, RB Car -injury-prone but with tremendous upside- great big-play potential and right now he holds the #1-back spot

Reuben Droughns, RB Cle -a better fit for Cleveland's running game than Lee Suggs -will benefit from Suggs' preseason injury-problems

JP Losman, QB Buf- This second-year QB has everything you could ask for as he prepares for his first year as a starter- he has great size and skill, a great cast around him, no QB competition, and had a year to learn the system

Mewelde Moore, RB Minn- Michael Bennett may be starting for now, but Moore is the best fit at RB on the Vikes. Bennett is missing the next preseason game and may miss the opener, which could open the door for Moore

Brandon Jacobs, RB NYG -this giant Giant (6'4, 256 lbs) has impressed alot of people this preseason with his hard-nosed running

Laveranues Coles, WR NYJ -reunited with Chad Pennington, Coles should put up great numbers so long as he stays healthy

Chris Perry, RB Cin -a tremendously talented young running back currently held back from fantasy stardom by chronic injuries and the presence of team-mate Rudi Johnson. He's replaced Kenny watson as the Bengals featured back in passing formations

Thomas Jones, RB Chi -Jones may start every game this year for the Bears- Cedric who?

JJ Arrington, RB Ari -lots of fantasy pundits are predicting great things for this rookie- Denny Green loves to show-case his rookies, so Arrington will get plenty of opportunities early on. But Marcell Shipp is looming in the background like impending danger should Arrington falter, and Arrington could end up being the next Leeland McElroy

Frank Gore, RB SF- may get a chance to start if Kevan Barlow picks up where he left off last year. Had a fine collegiate career at Miami that was disrupted by several injuries

Uncle Redd's Busts
Cedric Benson, RB Chi -his hold-out is killing his fantasy stock. As Steve Spurrier once said, "Hindsight is 50-50," but what was Benson thinking making those ridiculous hold-out demands?

Ronnie Brown, RB Mia -can anyone run behind the Dolphins' offensive line? Line coach Hudson Hawk better get his act in gear

Michael Bennett, RB Min- he's had an injury-plagued career, and he has an injury-plagued 2005 preseason

Mike Williams, WR Det -currently the #4 WR on the Lions depth chart, behind Charles Rodgers, Roy Williams, and Kevin Johnson

Clinton Portis, RB Was -Jon Jansen's back, and Portis is 20 pounds heavier, but that still won't be enough when teams start stacking the box against the Skins because of their horrific passing game

Tatum Bell, RB Den -will eventually be the #1 back in Denver- but it may take time

Lee Suggs, RB Cle -injury-prone and not an every down back- look for him to slide into the role of third-down back -now it looks like he will sit out the next two weeks, opening the door for Reuben Droughns or William Green

Domanick Davis -I just don't have alot of confidence in him- injury concerns, competition, limited talent etc

Rudi Johnson -when Johnson and Chris Perry are both healthy, who's better?

Aaron Brooks -gets worse and worse every year. Jim Haslett should just take him into a field and shoot him

In Pursuit of Uncle Redd

2005-08-15T01:31:00.000-04:00

In the business I am in (and when I say "the business," I mean "the industry"), you can't afford to lay idle and wait for work. At this point the Carson wedding mayhem is a mere afterthought, and it's time for me to move on to bigger and better things. So needless to say I was very happy when I opened a package in my office this morning and found dozens of photographs of the infamous wannabe dictator/pedarist "Uncle Redd" Martin.

Uncle Redd (center) seen here with two former KGB operatives at a wedding this past weekend in Belarus

Possessing a masters in American tax law and a felony child molestation conviction, Uncle Redd sought to take over several small Caribbean islands, enslave their native populations, and create a series of utopian tax shelters/child molestation communes- sort of like the Neverland Ranch but with better tax breaks. So in the 70s and early 80s Uncle Redd orchestrated a series of bloody and ultimately failed coups throughout the Caribbean that were intended to bring his dream to reality.

A frequent guest of the Johnny Carson show, Uncle Redd once quipped, "In my country I'll let my people talk all they want...from behind bars!" A free-thinking economic visionary, Uncle Redd also proposed clumping all national holidays together in order to reduce transaction costs. An "old school" tactical nuclear weapons proponent, Uncle Redd advocated randomly nuking Middle Eastern cities as a means of resolving any crisis in the region. Uncle Redd made alot of enemies during his escapades, but throughout his career he had the backing of Haiti's Duvalier family (both Papa Doc and Baby Doc) who helped him to consistently evade law enforcement personnel and contract killers. He disappeared in the mid-80s and the last I heard he was supposedly training the Zappatistas in Chiapas.

And that's all anyone knew for a while...But this morning I got a package from Jack the Bear who spotted Uncle Redd at a wedding in Belarus over the weekend and took dozens of pictures of him before Uncle Redd was eventually kicked out for repeatedly fondling one of the caterers and an ice sculpture of Josef Stalin. The Bear retired of course after he was shot in the back and nearly paralyzed by Juan "BigBalls" McGahee outside a Puerto Rican gay bar. But the Bear still owes me some favors, and I guess he felt passing on Uncle Redd's whereabouts was the right thing to do. The Bear also tells me Uncle Redd will be at another event in Russia next week to celebrate the anniversary of the recapture of Kharkov- and that's where I'm going to make my move. So now I'm heading to the old Soviet Union, and Uncle Redd's a dead man, he just doesn't know it yet.

Uncle Redd gets down and dirty with his escort while Jack the Bear (background) chears him on

Wedding Carnage

2005-08-09T15:22:00.000-04:00

I would like to thank Evan Belgium, the white whale, Brant Emerson, Tshimanga Bradley, and everyone else who helped facilitate large amounts of carnage and bloodshed in St. Louis Missouri this weekend. Although Otis Carson escaped, I think enough people were killed that I was able to make my point. Here's my log from the weekend's festivities...

Friday 1800 hours- Bradley, Emerson and I parachute into the St Louis suburbs and take refuge in the home of fellow mercenary Evan Belgium, and set up a 50 caliber, PIAT and sandbags in the upstairs bedrooms. This will be our temporary HQ for the operation.

Friday 2100 hours- As we are planning our attack on Carson from a local watering hole, a buxom female bar patron unwittingly catches my eye, and I do the standard thing and threaten her with a butter-knife. The management is displeased, some idiot starts shooting, and we run out the back.

Saturday 0300 hours -Bradley, Belgium and I interrupt a drug transaction involving several enterprising St Louis youths outside a local bar. Belgium and one of the drug-dealing children begin to reach for their guns. But suddenly Ricky Beltran (left for dead by me several times in the last two months) appears out of nowhere in a pick-up truck and begins to yell at everyone and inexplicably flashes thousands of dollars of American currency. I reach for my panzerschreck but realize I left it in Tunis. Rats! More gun-shots erupt and everyone scatters. We look back in the direction of Ricky Beltran, but "poof," he's gone.

Saturday 1600 hours (H-hour)- As the wedding goers gather inside the chapel for Otis' wedding, I ready the explosive charges. After much preparation, I flick the detonator switches, but nothing happens. I flick them again. Still nothing. Something went terribly wrong, and the charges do not go off. My god now I know how those poor Krauts on Nijmegan bridge felt. Our back-up plan is for McGelboim to strafe the wedding party with the McStallen Attack Helicopter, but the helicopter remains grounded all weekend due to nasty St Louis fog patterns, and the back-up plan never comes into fruition.

Saturday 2200 hours- We flee to another bar to drink away our sorrows, vowing to locate and destroy at least one enemy village before we leave St Louis as a sort of consolation to the botched wedding massacre.

Sunday 0300 hours- Unable to locate such a village, Emerson, me, Bradley and Belgium return dejected to Belgium's house and begin to cap off our night with a few rounds of Russian Roulette. Our fun is interrupted when Bradley hallucinates and begins seeing visions of an imagery accountant. He pulls his handgun from his waste and attempts to leave the house, clutching Emerson as his hostage.

Bradley states, "I'm taking the bookkeeper and I'm walking, Belgium. Me and the bookkeeper are walking out of here, getting into a car, and driving away. Or else he dies... and you got nothing!

Evan shakes his head in disapproval and asks me, "You got him, McStallen?"

I say, "Yeah, I got him."

Emerson yells, "I'll talk Belgium- I'll tell you everything you want to know!"

Bradley mumbles something about his friend Charlie and tries to count to three.

Evan interrupts him and says, "Take him!"

I shoot Bradley in the head and blood and guts spill all over Belgium's terrifyingly underfurnished home. Bradley stumbles over a bean-bag chair and then tumbles to the ground dead. We molest his corpse with fresh fruit, which I guess is a St Louis thing.

Sunday 0800 hours- A few of Carson's underlings track me down and try to break into Belgium's house and kill me. We capture them, urinate on them, and then execute them in the bathroom. And then urinate on them again. And then we mop up the mess.

God what a weekend

The Wedding Crasher/ Bud Selig War Criminal

2005-08-02T11:15:00.000-04:00

Friends,

I am writing from a safehouse in Panama City, Florida (USA). I recently circled the coast of Africa like the great Vasco DeGama on a fast moving cargo ship, and then made it into the continental United States on a rubber raft, undetected by these American "Coast guard" imbeciles.

I am readying myself for a trip that will entail much violence and blood-letting. My arch-nemesis Otis Carson plans to finally carry out his wedding this upcoming weekend. The wedding is to take place in St Louis Missouri and it is my opportunity for vengeance. I am going to string claymores all around the wedding grounds, and then McGelboim will be riding in on the McStallen attack helicopter laying snake and nape. Then I'll probably run around the wedding grounds with an AK-47 mowing down survivors. Sort of like a bad episode of "Dynasty." Sounds tricky, but we already have the McStallen attack helicopter stored in a warehouse in East St Louis, so this should be just like shooting monkeys in a barrel

And I must comment on this troubling news about our old Cuban acquaintence Mr. Rafael Palmeiro, whose niece I once helped smuggle into the United States in exchange for a case of 2001 Texas Rangers autographed baseballs. Palmeiro is a cheater. That makes 4 of the top-10 all-time homerun hitters total cheaters- Sammy Sosa, Mark McGuire, Barry Bonds and Raffy. These evil-doers perpetrated this fraud under MLB Commissioner Bud Selig's watch. Mr. Selig was a small-minded backwoods Wisconsin twit, and this simpleton was easily impressed by a mindless homerun, much in the same way that a small child would be. Mr. Selig condoned this unnecessary, nonsensical homerun barrage that destroyed over a hundred years of sacred baseball records in a few seasons. Millions of baseball fans will forever feel the effects of Mr. Selig, just as millions of Cambodians will forever feel the effect of Pol Pot, just as millions of Chileans will forever feel the effect of Augusto Pinochet, just as millions of small business owners will forever feel the impact of Ronald Reagan.

And How did this Mr. Selig ever come into power in the first place? ...because he made alot of money selling cars in Wisconsin and owns a baseball team there? Jesus Christ, everyone from Wisconsin is an idiot. And that makes Selig the king of the idiots, so don't give him any credit for what he did there. Even the most savvy businessman in Wisconsin would run a business into the ground in a competitive city like Chicago, New York or DC. Comparatively speaking, a Wisconsin car tycoon is about as financially competent as a New York homeless man. People from Wisconsin should not be put in charge of anything on a national level. They just aren't smart enough to handle it. And all they do is interact with other idiots from Wisconsin- which just makes them stupider- but some of these morons think they are intelligent just because they beat those other idiots in a battle of wits. Shame on you Bud Selig you war criminal, Go back to selling cars to illiterate Wockashaw pig farmers.

R & R in Mogadishu

2005-07-28T11:44:00.000-04:00

Hello loyal readers!
I am typing today from the lawless land of Somalia, resting in a compound in Mogadishu. And what a glorious and gorgeous place it is. The country isn't governed by laws mind you, but it is governed by power. The weak are hunted and often mowed down for sport, and armed bands of Skinnies roam the streets at all hours in lightly armored vehicles. And there are wild dogs everywhere- that's the thing with Somalians- they love animals, but they hate people.

I'm not sure why, but yesterday a Skinny took a shot at me in the Bukara market. The little ass-hole missed, and I returned fire and blew his head off. The rest of the market-goers looked up for a second or two and then went on about their business. And I just walked out. No hastling, no paperwork, no nothing. It doesn't get any better than that. I think every blood-thirsty mercenary owes it to his or herself to make a pilgrimage out to Mogadishu at least once in their lifetime.

Now the key with the Skinnies is eye contact. Always make eye contact with them- it shows you're on the same page with them. And then they'll usually look back, acknowledge you, and move along. And that's fine- no trouble, nobody dies. The only time you have trouble is if they keep looking at you for 4 or 5 seconds or more. If they stare that long, you know they're going to try something. So you have to go at them first- shoot to kill and make sure to finish them off.

So anyway I was taken in by a local warlord named n'Dugu. Apparently several of his ships had recently been raided by Indonesian pirates, and he lost nearly 100 cases of rifles, some surface-to-air missiles, and even a WWII-era Soviet .45 mm anti-tank gun. He was really pissed about the anti-tank gun. n'Dugu had heard of my recent raid against the pirates off Borneo and was quite impressed- he told me I could stay in his compound as long as I wanted. He hated those bloody pirates, and I spent many hours recounting the raid, going into all of the lurid details.

I would like to stay here- I feel safe and comfortable here and I don't think there's another place on earth like it- but I swear I saw an Algerian agent in the Bukara market today and I think the Algerians are onto me. They've been trailing me off an on since I bombed a few cafes in Algiers and Tunis in '03, but I've always managed to stay a few steps ahead of them. So I'll have to go soon in order to stay ahead.

Garrison taken! / Beane Ball

2005-07-24T00:56:00.000-04:00

The night push worked like a charm and we took captured the garrison and killed all those bloody pirates. We killed nearly half the pirates in actual armed combat, and then as per orders, executed the remaining survivors after they threw down their arms and begged for mercy. Mercy? You've come to the wrong place fella. I don't do mercy.

We took alot of casualties on the last push, so my men really enjoyed finishing off those damned pirates. We even saved their parrot for last. So although the attack went well, troubling news soon followed. Apparently this Suharto fellow, who played himself off to me as the "president of Indonesia," has been out of office since 1999. I guess he figured I wasn't that up on world politics, and he guessed right. So when I found out, I instructed McGelboim to attack Suharto's command bunker in Sumatra with the McStallen assault helicopter to exact swift and complete revenge on Suharto. Unfortunately Suharto and his cronies had already fled to one of the other islands. So although McGelboim blew up alot of people, he was unable to kill anyone actually involved with all this. Just lit up a bunch of "innocent" people I guess. But you know how I feel about that- no one's innocent- not me, not you, not Mother Theresa, and not some dumb bastard Sumatran fisherman. We all go through life with degrees of guilt and culpability.

Alot of people died, the mission was basically a set-up/sham, and I didn't get paid. So needless to say I think the whole operation was at best only marginally successful

So I feel bad. And seeing the baseball team of the insideous capitalist Billy Beane succeed is only making things worse.

The starters
Barry Zito- 5-0 in his last 6 starts, with a 1.17 ERA
Touchdown Joey Blanton-has dropped his ERA nearly two full points since June 1 (1.98 to be exact)
Danny Haren-has not lost a game since May
Rich Harden- yeah we all know he's really good at baseball

The closer
Huston Street- in 16 of his last 17 appearances, opposing teams have been unable to score an earned run against him

The bats
Nick Swisher- he just hit his 14th bomb of the season tonight, and has raised his average 50 points since June 1st
Eric Chavez- he just hit his 15th bomb of the season tonight and has raised his average over 60 points since June 1st
Jay Payton- has homered in 3 of his first 6 games as an A. Big ups to Mr Beane for rescuing him from the Red Sox bench

Still pinned down

2005-07-22T01:37:00.000-04:00

Oh god well this is pretty bad right now but i managed to get back to our base camp and can finally post again. well children, as you may know my forces are still pinned down on hill 128

for those of you that don't know, i took up that offer for a bounty on those indonesian priates, and the indonesian government gave me fifty raw recruits and we had an amphibious assault on the pirate's island stronghold about 200 miles south of borneo

the landing went unopposed but the shit really hit the fan when we went inland. we took mortar fire from all over and they've got a machine gun bunker on the hillside. i can't see it but it's cutting my men to pieces. i was thinking about trying to bypass it by going around it through the jungle and hitting their camp from the south end of the island. but i just got an executive order from suharto or sukarno or whatever his blasted name is that i shouldn't be avoiding firefights and that i should just push ahead and go at them head on. god dammit i've bled with these men for 10 days and now i might be sending them all to their deaths. but that's the only way i'll get paid. property, this whole thing is about property

anyway we're going to make another push tonight. we're going all the way. all the god damn way. you either go all the way, or you don't go at all
hopefully we get that blasted bunker, and i'll get back to you about it- with pictures if possible

McStallen's Mailbag of Death Part II

2005-07-05T14:59:00.000-04:00

Sorvatz P. writes, "McStallen, What do you plan to do with this Otis Carson fellow?"

You know how you get Carson? He pulls a knife, you pull a gun. He sends one of your boys to the hospital, you send one of his to the morgue. That's how you get Carson. That's the St. Louis way. And I am planning one last attempt on the life of Otis Carson. If Carson escapes again, I shall declare an end to my personal war against him and even attend his wedding just to show everyone that I am a good sport about these sorts of things.

Gary Shapsteen writes, "I haven't heard much from Juan Boca recently. Where is he?"

'Ol Juan just went on a little fishing trip off Cape Girardeau with Carlos McGelboim. I don't think we'll see Juan around anymore.

Dan Michelless writes, "McStallen, What's with your man-crush on Placido Polanco? Is it like my non-sexual boy-crush on Tom Cruise?"

No Dan, it's nothing like your boy-crush on Tom Cruise.

Vladimir P. writes,"McStallen, you seem to know alot about American sports memorabilia. How much could I get for a New England Patriots american football championship ring?"

Fuck your mother.

why am i out mcstallen!...?

2005-06-29T10:43:00.000-04:00

I don got alot to sae to ju McStallen.
Ju keepen me in dark an mostly of your plans

an i sorry i bumpen ju arm in sudan- i sweare i don do that en purpose. and that was that. but now i'm out. for that- why am i out?

Ju say ju alwas taken me care of McStallen but ju ever thinken about that? ju ever juance thinken about that? sending juan off to do this!
senden juan off to do that. senden juan to bomb micky mouses' night club
or send juan pick uping sr. roberto at the airport.

i your writing handman and i got passover for carlos mcgelboim

this no is the way I wanted it. i handle thins- i smart- no like everyone sayen- no dumb- i smart and i wan respecten!

my pleasure,
Juan Boca

The 4th of July Comes to St. Louis, Missouri (US) a Bit Early

2005-06-26T11:36:00.000-04:00

I don't like working in the United States. Things get pretty hairy there- lots of police and government forces, and us foreign nationals really have to watch our backs now that they have this blasted Patriot Act. What a bunch of shit that is. Three Super Bowl championships, now that's a Patriot Act. Nevertheless, every once in a while if the price is right, I end up somewhere in America, and usually destroy something or someone and take in a professional baseball game or two.

Anyway an old nemesis of mine, Otis Carson, is getting married in America in a few weeks. Carson and I traded a few AK-47 bursts in a refugee camp in Sierra Leone in '98, and he "rescued" an OPEC executive I was holding for ransom in Yemen in '02, which cost me millions. As revenge, I swore I'd ruin his wedding. But this bastard is pretty crafty, and he has been engaged eight times and staged a half-dozen mock weddings, all just to confuse me and draw me out. But I never took the bait and waited for the real one.

My American liason, the callous Evan Belgium, confirmed that Carson was planning to get married for real this August. Carson and Belgium served together in the American military in Vietnam, and they have a long-standing rivalry stemming from an argument they had when deciding which villagers to excute after they raided a South Vietnamese strategic hamlet suspected of harboring Viet Cong subversives. In the 1990s I frequently played Carson and Belgium off each other to further my own business interests. Carson and Belgium live in the decrepit, plague-infested midwestern town of St. Louis, Missouri (US) where everyone wants to know where you went to high school and the girl who dies with the tallest boyfriend wins. And what a mess it is driving in this town-it reminds me of Saigon '75, except without all those bloody North Vietnamese tanks.

So I devised a two-man mission for me and my new right-hand man, Carlos "The Jackal" McGelboim. Carlos is a former Mosad interrogator but the Israelis let him go because he cut off the wrong Arab's tongue. I left Juan Boca at home in my training camp in Tunis. Things could get rough here, and Juan's not really a war-time right-hand man. Even though Boca is a US citizen, I can't take the chance he would screw something up- not after the flame-thrower debacle last week in Sudan.

Carlos and I posed as American telephone repairman and drove to Carson's neighborhood. Carlos and I strung up about 1500 pounds of plastic explosives in the telephone poles around Carson's compund and we detonated them when we were a few miles away. I guess we used more explosives than we needed to, because the whole neighborhood started going up- very reminiscent of last week's fun in Sudan.

I'm not sure if we caught Carson with the blast. For now I am living in a small spider hole with a rustic pistol and my laptop in Evan Belgium's backyard, waiting to see what becomes of Mr. Carson and his treacherous wedding plans. Fortunatley SouthwesternBell does an outstanding job as a wireless internet provider, and I get hi-speed internet access from the spider hole.

National guardsmen scurry children along in the predominantly Asian St. Louis neighborhood that was devastated by the blast

And for more photos of the explosion, be sure and check out these copy-written snapshots here taken from the McStallen attack helicopter. I am trying to market a scaled down version of the McStallen attack helicopter as a children's toy. E-mail me at my hotmail account if you are interested in helping me finance the project.

Oh and I will close with the latest Placido Polanco news...Here's what Ken Rosenthal of the Sporting New wrote today, "The Phillies' trade of second baseman Placido Polanco for reliever Ugueth Urbina seemed like a good idea at the time, but the deal already looks like a loser. Urbina allowed five homers in his first 5 1/3 innings at hitter-friendly Citizens Bank Park. Polanco not only has given the Tigers a major offensive boost at second base, but also has emerged as a leader. ..."

A Night Raid in West Africa

2005-06-22T22:44:00.000-04:00

I just got back from the port city of Dakar where I was fortunate enough to participate in a search-and-destroy mission that was one of the best damned commando missions I have ever been on. It was completed about 10 hours ago and I am still a bit wired from the whole thing.

We raided a Senagalese military compound and really blew the hell out of it. We had a 14-man attack squad, and I provided covering fire with a .50 caliber machine gun from a secluded spot. I can't run like I used to, so they put me on the machine gun and told me to open up once the fireworks started. They also asked if I wanted a .30 caliber, but I told them to give me the big .50. A .30 caliber is pussy as far as I'm concerned. Anyway I took out a guard tower and shot up the mess hall- even caught a few dumb bastards while they were still eating. So I haven't lost my touch with the .50 cal. The guy feeding me the amo was amazed at all the damage I did. Young punk must have been half my age -if that. After the shooting was over we torched the place and took back a few prisoners. They didn't know what hit them. Or who. They know now.

One of the more maniacal commandos in our squad prepares to set off a small explosive with a bar-b-q lighter. I never did catch the fellow's name. I think he was Ukranian

I'd love to have another go at the Senegalese, but they'll be on high-alert after tonight's show, so it's a good thing that we're leaving. And you'll have to excuse my profanity in this post- as I said I am a bit wired, and all the blood-letting brought tears of joy to this lonely old mercenary's aging heart. I still got it.

A Beltran Too Far

2005-06-19T13:41:00.000-04:00

Yesterday I settled all my business with Ricky Beltran. I tracked him back to his Sudanese hide-out, a sprawling urban bunker near one of Khartoum's many bridges. I checked out his place with my binoculars and could see dozens of sandbags, a .50, some other light ordinance, and a few guards- probably just old men and children. Peace of cake. Juan and I drove down the street in my tank and I figured we could just take Beltran right out. But when we got with-in 50 meters, an anti-tank round whizzed from the bunker and blew off our tread. Our tank was disabled and it was time for Plan B.

Juan and I waited for nightfall and then approached the bunker on foot. We brought a flame thrower with us and we were going to burn up the whole place. But we had to make sure we got him with the first burst; as soon as we fired we would give away our position, and Beltran and his guards could put alot of heat our way. We crept behind a dumpster across the street and got ready to fire. I aimed into the bunker and pulled the trigger on the flame-thrower, but Juan bumped my arm, causing the flames to miss the target by about 5 meters. We hit the deck.
I yelled, "You clumsy idiot! You bumped my arm!"
Juan yelled back, "Ju was moven!"
Then suddenly the whole bunker went up like a Roman candle. Hot rounds, claymores, missiles, everything went up.
"We hit the ammunition dump!" I screamed. Ordinance continued to go off and the whole street burned like Osage Avenue. Juan and I snuck out of there, but there's no way Ricky Beltran did. No one could have survived that. When I got down the street I blew my trumpet, because I wanted everyone in Khartoum to know who did this.

Children played on my tank in the outskirts of Khartoum only hours before I assaulted Ricky Beltran's urban bunker

While I was really happy that Ricky Beltran and his cronies burned like dogs, perhaps the best news I have is that Placido Polanco
hit a two-run walk-off dong as the Detroit Tigers beat the San Fransisco Giants 10-8 in extra innings today. Keep up the good work, Placido. Only god can judge you.

The Peace is Broken! ... Amateur & Semi-Professional Baseball Review

2005-06-16T13:19:00.000-04:00

Friends, I have terrible news vis-a-vis the insideous wounding of Juan Boca yesterday afternoon. Juan was returning home from a pet store in his native Trenton, New Jersey (USA), carrying several bags of tropical fish that he bought for his long-time girlfriend, Marisol.
Juan saw a neighbor and said, "Lookit these fish I got for my girlfren!"
The neighbor responded, "Nice trade!"

Then Juan began to open his screen door when several of the fish suddenly detonated. Apparently the fish had been rigged with tiny plastic explosives, and when they went off they blew Juan ten meters into the air. Fortunately, the portly Boca is insulated with several layers of baby fat, and much of the shrapnel was unable to penetrate his vital organs. Nevertheless he was taken to a local hospital and received dozens of stitches. Exploding tropical fish are a calling card of the loathed and despised Ricky Beltran, the two-bit mercenary who has now drawn the full breadth of my wrath. The peace is over- This assassination attempt on Boca is an act of war, and Ricky Beltran is a dead man walking as far as I'm concerned. You want a war Beltran? You got a war.

Juan scribbled wrote me a note that he wanted me to publish on this blog to let everyone know he is alive and healing. Here goes:

Frens
i was an injury by an exploden fish
but i gon to recommend myself in hospital and wil be soon
don ju worry!
-Juan

I honestly don't know what the hell he is trying to say, but anyway on to sports...As many of you know I spend alot of time covering professional American baseball. But what of the often-overlooked world of amateur and semi-professional American baseball? Today I am going to focus on three promising squads and some of their elite players in this often under-appreciated strata of American athletics:

1) The Sacramento Trojans -Baseball in the Pacific Northwest doesn't get any more hardcore than this. Check out a night-game in hitter-friendly San Juan High School and you'll see what I mean. Jim Miramontes and Tony "CoCo" Khoury highlight this squad of ballas that work hard and play hard, making The Dirty Dozen look like a merry band of choir boys. Tony Khoury once beat a fan to death with a rosin bag just for heckling him. The Trojan post-game celebrations often lead to violent blood-lettings, and several promising Trojan middle-relievers, including bare-chested impressionist painter/left-handed set-up man Georges St. Pierre, were actually shot at the last team party, prompting the aptly-named Coach Sage to renew his search for middle relief pitchers.

2) St. Louis Golden Spikes- St. Louis, where the girl who dies with the tallest boyfriend wins, is also home to this interesting band of renegade hoosiers who throw 90-MPH heat and host wicked trivia nights. Last week starting pitcher Christopher Crooks actually won both games of a double-header and convicted a janitor of wreckless driving in night-court in Chesterfield. Rumor has it they have recently added Ed Lynch's nephew to provide a much needed big lefthanded bat to the lineup

3) Freida's Boss- RooRoo McGelboim, Two-Putz O'Brien, Pete Heath, and Byron "The Pig" Emerson lead this rag-tag band of misfits as they do battle for glory in an elite Chicago softball league. Except this league doesn't use the 16-inch Chicago softballs. So it's more like a non-Chicago softball league, although they play all their games in Chicago and all the teams and all the players are from Chicago.
Founder and player-manager Emerson is well-known as a stern disciplinarian; it is rumored he sodomizes any player that doesn't run out a pop-up. It is also rumored that he sodomizes players that run out pop-ups, so it's sort of tough to get on his good side. Rightfielder McGelboim, deported from Canada last April on charges of felony voyeurism, gets his kicks stealing balls hit to other outfielders. Mike Matos, who suffers from occassional bouts with leprosy, swings roled up semen-stained copies of the Federalist Papers when he's on deck.

And here's a little update on our friend Placido Polanco. Placido has hit .500 (10-20) since he was traded to the Detroit Tigers.

Well that's all I have for now. If anyone has located any more promising North American baseball talent, holler at your boy and I will check it out. I'll give Juan all your best. Beltran you better fill out your will now if you have not done so already. I'm out of this bitch.

McStallen Back! Polanco Freed

2005-06-11T09:24:00.000-04:00

Hello everyone, this is McStallen, and What a fine day it is! I am recovering from my wounds and slowly readjusting to life. This latest shooting was probably the worst I endured, and I lost most of my lower intestine and one of my nipples was blown right off. I recognize now that I am older and don't have the strength I once used to possess. I will still write this blog periodically but I have decided to become semi-retired. Many e-mailers have asked what I intend to do with this Ricky Beltran, the two-bit mercenary and failed tropical fish salesman who perpetrated the unsuccessful assassination attempt on my life in the Balkans.

We often talk about vengeance in this business-- is vengeance going to bring my lower intestine back? Or my nipple back? No. I will forgo vengeance on Mr. Beltran. But I have selfish reasons for this. My protege, Juan Boca, will be assuming the lion share of blog-writing and mercenary duties that I onced used to perform. And I'm a superstitious man -- and if some unlucky accident should befall him -- if he should get shot in the head by a police officer -- or if he -- should hang himself by the keyboard-- or if he's struck by a bolt of lightning -- then I'm going to blame Mr. Beltran. And that, I do not forgive.
But -- that aside -- let me say that I swear -- on the souls of all those I have killed-- that I will not be the one to break the peace that I have made on this blog today...

Turning to the world of major league baseball, I am pleased to report that Placido Polanco has been freed from the shackles of reserve middle-infield purgatory in Philadelphia and will be given a chance for a new life. Philadelphia's fiendish baseball warden, Ed Wade, has decided to let Placido lead the good life he deserves, dealing him to the Detroit Tigers for Ugie Urbina. An accomplished and versatile player with a knack for moving runners, Mr. Polanco will be able to use the vast expanses of Comerica Park to smack line drives and produce runs. He will also not have to worry about competing with Chase Utley or David Bell, and gets a fresh start with a different fan base. Bravo Placido! Bravo!

Placido Polanco is heading to Detroit!

New Bedside INtreview

2005-06-08T11:48:00.000-04:00

Frends alike,
I haf an good news. McStallen haf speaken for first time with public intreviewen on June 7 and i gon publsih transcripten en these pages. Here goe notting:

Scott Wilson: My name is Scott Wilson and I am a fantasy sports writer. I am here live in a secret hospital room in Belgrade where notorious global mercenary and fantasy sports expert McStallen is healing from his wounds. McStallen, How are you?

McStallen: Fine, but the fact I am in this hospital is supposed to be secret. Don't print anything about Belgrade in your article.

Scott Wilson: OK don't worry I'll redact that part. I'd like to wish you a Happy Birthday too. Here's a pint of imported breast milk.

McStallen: Why's it green?

Scott Wilson: Oh don't worry about that. Anyway on to fantasy sports... McStallen I am a big fan and would like to be your personal fantasy assistant.

McStallen: So you say Scott Wilson...You're the guy who has tried to meet with me 57 different times- there ought to be a picture of you in the dictionary under "persistent." So What've you got?

Scott Wilson: I know you had Clint Barmes on alot of your teams, and he fell down the stairs when he was tripping on some pills, and then lied saying he was taking some of Todd Helton's deer meat home. Anyway now you'll have to replace Barmes in your line-up while he spends the next 3 months on the DL. I think you should replace him with Neifi Perez. Nomar is out for a while, and Neifi is batting near the top of the Cubs order and producing an impressive run total coupled with a fine OPS, plus he has an 11-game hitting streak.

McStallen: Perez is a dog, what else you got, sport?

Scott Wilson: Umm...Geoff Blum ...fantasy analysts don't like him. I do. He's filled in well for Mark Loretta and is scoring runs and quite versatile.

McStallen: Not bad for a spot-starter, but a dog with different fleas. Come on, tell me something I don't know. It's my birthday...

Scott Wilson: uh..Orlando Cabrera- lots of potential but many owners got disgusted with his poor play early this season and cut him. He's worth taking a chance on...

McStallen: The public is out there throwing darts at a board, sport. I don't throw darts at a board. I only bet on sure things. Read Sun Tzu's "The Art of War." 'Every battle is won before it is ever fought.' Think about it.

Scott Wilson: Umm...Damion Easley...everyone gave up on him 7-8 years ago, but he has found himself again in Florida and hit 6 homers in the last 30 days. He can play every position in the infield except catcher!

McStallen: You're not as smart as I thought you were, sport. Listen hard --
Ever wonder why those fantasy writers can't even win their own leagues? Because they're sheep -- and sheep get slaughtered. I've been doing fantasy baseball since '83, back when names like Ben Oglivie, Butt-Pumper Smith and Gorman Thomas meant something. Most of these high paid Ivy League fantasy writers don't amount to dog shit. Give me poor, smart and hungry- And no feelings. You don't win 'em all, but you keep on fighting, and if you need a friend, get a dog. It's trench warfare out here buddy boy. I got twenty other fantasy assistants, analyzing charts. I don't need another one. Get out of my sight before I whack you with my cane.

Scott Wilson: Andy Marte!

McStallen: What? Andy Marte- I've heard the name from somewhere...

Scott Wilson: Top thirdbase prospect for the Braves.

McStallen: I don't like Braves prospects...lousy recent history. And I don't need another third baseman, I have Adrian Beltre and Dallas McPherson. And the Braves will probably convert Marte to outfielder anyway.

Scott Wilson: No Mr. McStallen- Marte will play a little middle infield when Jones gets off the DL. Even Giles, Betemit and Furcal don't know that.

McStallen: Well, How do you know?

Scott Wilson: I just...I just know.

McStallen: Interesting...Scott Wilson do you have a number?

Scott Wilson: Here's my card. You could also just page Edgar.

McStallen: Well Scott Wilson I consider 100 free agent transactions a day, and I choose one. I may be in touch, and thanks for the green breast milk.

Scott Wilson: OK Mr. McStallen. Thanks for not shooting at me. I'll see you later.

clint barnes hurten down the stares

my pleasure,
Juan Boca

LAtes updike

2005-06-02T11:59:00.000-04:00

Frends an readers alike,

congraulations on readen my lates updike an the good news it cuntanes. firstly, i haf ridden of the robber donut and i can sitten on ground nowadays. on the second, mcstallen is walken without the crcuh an he says he will rite the nex post but that eye can keep riten sumtimes becawse my englis is geten more better.

mcstallen is goen to molly to be honoured at a mercenary convenshun. he thinks he will get award for accomplished acheevements. he come back froum chad and then do the righten agains. hoap fully we haf pictures of convenshun in next posten

rodrigo has to starten wrestlnig camp in poconose mountain an i am tren to go an vizit when i can find the poconose on the map . i wantes go to camp an cheer rodrigo on buy the yellen go rodrigo go rodrigo go rodrigo go vamanos

as for the work to be doen myself, wel i can esplain them work to ju. i am trabbled to alergies to meet with alergian guvernmen about security trainen for forces in north africa. this is pritty safe job becawse they don have to much troubl in alergies times in the recent anyway. the frenches was en troubl in 1960s after they had to leaf indochina [veeyetnom now] becawse in dienbienfu in 1954 agains vietmin they losen and then they allergies kicked them outwen right in the 60s. an now the frenches don have nothing, not even french economys is good becawse all french's worken 30 howres a week and taken 15 weeks of vacashun a year so not alot of work geting done by them lazy frenches. but don tell them that becawse tay are prowd and deloushunal an haf lossed the tuch with realitor. an now sr. chicekn comes home to ruest becawse thay make euro but now no can compeat wit chepe labor in easern uripe like the checks an the slobs. ah the free markut is the bad four the frenchen. an i say theay can shuv the aerobus up the butt. this is family blog. i shudn have said that. lo siento. but ju get my driff
oh an now other man (se llama Marc) rite blog hisself and i lincoln it as a favour

my pleasure,
Juan Boca

bletran

2005-05-30T00:38:00.000-04:00

frends an readers alike

i was enreadying to go to slepe an i sea ricky beltran has bene on this site more again yappen his big mouth on how he gon come and kill mcstallen. blah blha bla.. beltran you blue your chanse, so why do you don back to cellen your torpical fish?
beltran your torpical fish are no mor than bate but you haf bene ripping off the people on the ebay with misdescripshuns an sayen that fish was an rare but thay was not very rare indeed. i don think no body with a braine and a half buys your fish an i hoap they gon exspend youre account. an i think you needen to cell fish becawse you not making enuf money from the mersernary jobs ever.

i gotten e-mail an people wan know what i look like an i am flatter. so i gon posting picture

i having this picture of me what got taken when i was en montenegro with mcstallen for new years in 2003. we don party two much becawse we hadden to blow-up government gas an supplie depoe for contract. we don good blowing -it had a ka-boom and not their when we leaf!

for thoes remember mcstallen he is in doing much more good than befour and he is thanken for all yor prairs. he en went on walken by his self out side hospital for orignial time today. he needed cane to do that an is good orderlies let him keep thee cane. but problem is i can no walk becawse my ass hurt event more from mcstallen biten it las weak. i sit en robber donut still but it en hurts an so i hope i can be walken in day or next day. but mi ass don hurts when i typen!

my pleasure,
Juan Boca

like rapid dog

2005-05-25T20:00:00.000-04:00

frends an readers alike

today was more bad news in the hospital but it start promising enough. i came in and say hey mcstallen you better be niser today or i not gon stay two long. but mcstallen was all doaped up on drogas an smilen an talken from happy days wen before wife leeve for good when he was in grenada so i think this must be good Day. we chit for a wile and he was stil smilen cawse i think he think he still in grenada fiten unarmed cubans an so i sit rite by the bed for a while [in chair] an he says more stuf of a impalen cuban with a salt rifle and i think oh this is good no issues of concerns today. oh butt then some truble my frends- someone nocken on the door and i turn my head to see hu it was an it was ownly orderly but than suddenle mcstallen pop up an bight my ass an he sink his teeth reely into it an i was screamen liek a littel gurl. it was lie trubble to get his mouth off my ass but finally i pull him off - he was like rapid dog and was foamen en lips. i needen to get stiches an i think i don no wut kind of drogas orderly give mcstallen but i don never wnat any of that because i don want to start biting my frends asses. never wan do that.

so i leeve before mcstallen talk to me over fantasy beisbol and i go home an sitten on robber donut beawse my ass is all a-soar. i use the time here today to talk over wrestling an no beisbol insted. you sea, i haf two sons - each is a namen rodrigo- wan rodrigo jus die in nepal [rodrigo 1- elder] and my other son rodrigo [rodrigo 2- mas joven] is a studen an school wrestling star in america. he lif with his mother, maria cantante. i go a hear to the NATional prep wrestle to talk of rodrigo with the other enthusiasms an fans of the sport. now there are lots of lots of punks writen about an i deal with them sometime but we get haf big trubble them and us

my pleasure,
Juan Boca

is font

2005-05-23T16:56:00.000-04:00

frends an readers alike

many of you have right these emails and won to know how you con tell is me righting. well jus look at the font and if you see is bold then you is me juan and is not mcstallen.

today i wen to hospital again to see mcstallen and i say hey mcstallen you donig better. an he look at me rite in my eyes an he says come closer juan real quiet under his breath. an he ponits index finger at me liker he won me to come closer. so i came real close to the bed and i say what you got to say? and then he says come more closer. and i think this is strainge but i come more closer becawse thass what the mein says. then all of a sudden he grabs my neck and start to trying to choke me again and again. i brake free afterr some efforts and of course help from the nice orderlies and i say what the hell was that for and mcstallen says becawse i am not posting enough on this blog so hear i ago again trying to make the posts and what not becawse i don want mcstallen to try and kill me ever time i go to see him in hospital. then mcstallen tol me to sine this closer named wagner who will play for the reds becawse danny graves got taken away from sinsinati.

so i leave hospital and go on the leeg website jus like he says. i try to put wagner on his team but it was to no avail becawse some team got him all along. so i come back to the hospital an i tell him somebody have closer billy wagner all along. an thass when he got more angry then i ever seen him. he start yelling rian rian rian wagner! and he hop out of the bed and start beatin me with his cane. an that abuse wnet on and on for a wile til the orderlies they come in and they are like oh not this stuff again and they brake it up again. so i leave an i tell mcstallen i still come back tomorro but i tell the orderlies make sure you don give that cane to mcstallen becawse it hurt like hell when he was beaten me with it and i don want to get hit with it tomoro

my pleasure,
Juan Boca

McStallen Is been Shot!!!

2005-05-20T13:34:00.000-04:00

frends and readers alike

tihs is juan boca- i am working with mcstallen many many times and was shot woundedly in nepal with my son rodrigo trying to defend mcstallen. rodrigo later die of gun-shotsd but that is not important now. now i am bring very bad news to everyone. mcstallen is been shot in former yugoslavia. i wll esplain what happen- mcstallen was walked down dirt countryside road and someone recognize him from the past and don like him. so this mein that recognize mcstallen, he pull out a salt rifle and shooting mcstallen as many as several times. then this mein leave and mcstallen tried to crawl to hospital in local region. i don know the mein that did all the shooting to mcstallen but i going to try and find him and kill him at some point

thus mcstallen is in hosptial now but look this is very serious. we don know if he will make it but when i see him in hospital i say hi nene you better be more more careful. but mcstallen was all lying in bed covering in bloody bangdages and he look like he dead. but then all of a sudden mcstallen grab my throat and tell me i better start working on the blog wile he's in el hospital or he gon to get out of the bed and rip by eyes out and make intercourse to me after he kill me. let me tell you this is muchisimo threat and i don want that to happening to me. so i gon right the blog. and he gift me the password and i know it but i won tell nobotty else about it.

my pleasure,
Juan Boca

Coup D'Etat

2005-05-16T09:50:00.000-04:00

My god dear readers I have terrible news. The Duke and his wife were assassinated as their motorcade drove through a bustling market in the streets of Sarajevo two days ago. The Duke unexpectedly stopped the motorcade and exited his limosine to purchase oranges from a local street vendor when gunfire suddenly erupted all around him. In seconds both the Duke and Dutchess were dead. Ravenous by-standers grabbed the alleged gunman, a fascist-anarchist named Virgil "The Turk" Solozzo, and brought him to the local station for questioning.

It wasn't until I was on my way back to Sarajevo that I heard of the assassinations. That was 2 in the afternoon the next day Bosnian time, but already the Belgrade papers had the entire history of an unknown 44-year-old man, Solozzo - a studio picture, detailed biographical data, Russian information - and were pretty sure of the fact he'd been the lone gunman, although it took them four more hours to charge him with the murder in the police station. It felt as if, well, a cover story was being put out like they would in a black op.

Anyway, after I came back I asked myself why was I, the chief of security, selected to travel to the Southern Balkans at that time to do a job that any number of others could have done? One of my routine duties if I had been in Sarajevo would've been to arrange for additional security when the Duke was traveling. I checked it out when I got back and sure enough, I found out someone had told the rest of the body guards to "stand down" that day, over the protests of the unit leader Ricky Roma.

Now this is significant, because it is standard operating procedure, especially in a known hostile city like Sarajevo, to put at least a half-dozen agents on the sidewalks, without question! We'd have arrived days ahead of time, studied the route, checked all the buildings ...We never would've allowed all those wide-open empty windows overlooking the market ... never ...We would have had our own snipers covering the area. The moment a window went up they'd have been on the radio. We would've been watching the crowds - packages, rolled up newspapers, a
coat over an arm, never would have let a man open an umbrella along the way - Never! You would have felt a presence in the streets that day, but none of this happened. It was a violation of the most basic protection codes we have. And it is the best indication of a massive plot in Sarajevo.

Who could have best done this? People in my business...People like my superior officer "Y" could've told Ricky Roma, "Look - we have another unit coming from so and so providing such and such. You'll stand down."

But the real question, is "Why?" -the "how" is just "scenery" for the suckers ... it keeps people guessing like a parlor game, but it prevents them from asking the most important question - Why? Why was the Duke killed? Who benefited? Who has the power to cover it up? If we can answer those questions, we can solve this whole thing.

This was a military-style ambush from start to finish ... a coup d'etat. And now pictures are circulatinig linking Solozzo to the Bush Administration and the American mob.

This undated photo was recently discovered in a Belgrade garage, showing American president George Bush (left middle) meeting with Virgil "The Turk" Solozzo (right middle) and several unidentified members of the Corleone crime family. The Bush administration claims the photo is a fake, and that George Bush's face has actually been super-imposed over the body of a member of the Corleone family

And I can't help but think of the bizarre similarities to something that happened here over 90 years ago...Well anyway the Slavs can sort all this out on their own. I've got no one left to protect here, so I'm taking my semi-automatic assault rifle and I'm going home. God knows when I'll work again. This whole thing is awful and I may take some time off from writing.

A Trip to the Southern Balkans

2005-05-13T01:41:00.000-04:00

A strange thing happened today. I was sent by my superior officer, "Y," to the Southern Balkans as the military escort for a group of international VIP's. This trip has nothing to do with my experience as a mercenary. It was sort of a "paid vacation." The Duke's incompetent son Fredo will act as his personal body guard while I am gone, and Ricky Roma will run things around Mountainview.

Another Mission in the Balkans/ Pitching Woes

2005-05-12T16:58:00.000-04:00

I made it out of Africa and contacted my boss, we'll call him "Y," who was able to roll me over on a project in the Balkans. I was put in charge of a modest personal security operation for ArchDuke Richard Lingk, the Bosnian Minister of Interior Development, and his wife, the Dutchess of Nyborg. The Duke comes from Bosnian royalty, and is revered and respected by his countrymen, many of whom believe he has magical powers. The Duke and Dutchess live in a sprawling medieval castle called "Mountainview." I manage a dozen or so guards in securing Mountainview's perimeter, and then I work as the personal bodyguard of the Duke and Dutchess when they go into town. My old friend Ricky Roma is second in command among the body guards, and we work with Fredo, the screw-up son of the Duke and Dutchess. Some mercenaries find the Balkans to be pretty hairy at times, and indeed I had a rough go in Srebrenica, but I have found the atmosphere around Mountainview to be pretty laid back, and it is a welcome respite from bloody Africa. And I don't apologize for what I did in Srebenica- that's my life and I make no apologies- the whole operation was a mess from the start, and most of the time you couldn't even tell who you were killing- but you just had to fire and forget. And I think we all died a little in that damn war.

Beaucholic Mountainview

But onto Major League Baseball. And it is about that time of the year in fantasy baseball when good pitching legitimately becomes hard to find. The guys having career years (Jon Garland, Brett Myers, John Patterson, Erik Bedard, Bruce Chen etc) all been gobbled up, and it is risky to grab remaining pitchers off the waiver wire because they can single-handedly ruin your team ERA and WHIP with a "Moyer-esque" outing.

THE GOOD
There are some good pitchers left- you just have to look...
1) Cliff Lee- Cleveland- this once-promising oyung pitcher has had a bunch of good starts this year, and has pitched well against some stacked AL lineups (Angels, WhiteSox, and Rangers)
2) Chris Young- Texas- the big man is quickly developing into a stud- if he's a free-agent in your league, grab him
3) Mark Redman- Pittsburgh- he'll help your team ERA and WHIP, but don't rely on him for wins or Ks
4) Josh Fogg- Pittsburgh- has been pitching very well lately, riding a 3-game win streak into the weekend. Fogg went seven strong on Wednesday evening and gave up only two runs
5) Chris Capuono- Milwaukee- he is developing into a good pitcher but is still prone to implosion.
6) Horacio Ramirez- Atlanta-a poor man's Mark Redman ...hmm...that doesn't sound very good

THE BANGED UP
Injuries were the primary reason the following became waiver wire fodder
1) Tony Armas Jr- Washington- dealt with many injuries throughout his young career, but will be throwing in a pitcher's park
2) Jaret Wright- New York (Junior Circuit)- terrible start, but maybe he pitches well when he comes back
3) David Wells- Boston- Was starting to pitch well before he got hurt

THE UGLY
The following are decent pitchers who got off to terrible starts and may have been cut by their original owners
1) Jake Westbrook- Cleveland- look at his numbers- four quality starts yet he has an ERA of 6.69 -maybe he'll get it all together
2) Nick Lowery- San Fransisco- transitioning well from NFL kicker to pitcher, he had a slow start but may be coming around
3) Randy Wolf- Philadelphia- this lefty has always been a bit inconsistent, but so far this year he has just been bad
4) Zack Grienke- Kansas City- pitching very, very well this year despite his record (0-4)
5) Ryan Drese- Texas- vowed to be the Rangers ace at the out-set of the season, but he is a far cry from that

The .45 is Mightier than the Pen

2005-05-09T14:47:00.000-04:00

I don't like violence- I abhor it really- but it seems to shadow me wherever I go, as my inescapable soul-mate. And sometimes it is very difficult to escape from.

I had been keeping low in the village of Kijawwuh, in the Congo. And as I'm sure you all know, there has been alot of bloodshed recently in the Congo- factional tribal village battling and what not. Images plastered all over the BBC. There have also been alot of Western "journalists" snooping around, feeding off the death and carnage as Satanic parasites, or sharks to a feeding frenzy.

One of these such "journalists" popped into Kijawwuh yesterday, interrupting the peaceful village life as he barreled in here with his Jeep and his Congolese translator. He got all excited when he spotted a few corpses in a drainage ditch, and started taking pictures. At that point, I had enough.

I said, "What the hell are you doing?"

He flashed his press pass at me and kept snapping away- never even having the common decency to look up at me. I pulled out my .45 and blew away his translator.

Again I asked him, "What the hell are you doing?"

He was a bit more responsive this time. He explained he was an American journalist here taking pictures to publicize the Congolese atrocities to the world. He told me that people had to know what was going on here- that the "truth" had to come out.

Oh it did, huh? And wasn't he just the right man to bring it out? What a convenient explanation! Imagine this capitalist pig, invading the privacy of the village and the Kijawwan way of life just so he could take pictures of dead bodies and sell them to Western newspapers so they could be published for rich Americans to read and pass judgment upon from the safety of their secluded Beverly Hills bungalows. And to use "getting the truth out" as a motive for this nonsense?? What a load of crap- like all Americans, this spoiled, pampered, self-centered brat was motivated by the almighty dollar. And nothing more. He was receiving a salary from the newspaper, and this Kijawwan story would surely merit him vast amounts of prestige and accolades from the American media. But this deceitful coward told me he was doing it for the "truth." I looked at his $200 watch and spit on him. I didn't even have fifty cents when my grandmother died, and it disgusted me to see this deceitful journalist flaunting his wealth as he exploited the villagers by taking photos of their dead. It was only going to get worse for him.

I then kicked him to the ground and grabbed his press credentials. The Boston Globe- a reputable periodical. I asked him if he was a Red Sox fan and he said he didn't follow baseball. I raised my .45 to his head and told him he better be a baseball fan for the next 60 seconds. I was going to ask him a baseball question- he gets it wrong, he dies, he gets it right, he walks.

I asked, "What is the nickname of current Red Sox outfielder Christopher Nixon?"

He responded, "Uhh...I don't know."

I gave him a hint. I said, "Think homerun walk...homerun gallop...homerun stride..."

He said, "Uhh...Otis?"

My god. "Otis Nixon"- What a terrible answer. Otis Nixon played only briefly for the Red Sox, and was certainly not a homerun hitter.

I said, "No, it's 'Trot.' Christopher 'Trot' Nixon."

Then I blew his head off. I told the villagers to burn his body and the body of his translator. I was disgusted by all the violence, and I decided it was time to leave. I bid the villagers a final farewell as I headed for the African coast. Now I'm coming for that number one spot.

If the journalist knew who Trot Nixon was, he'd still be alive today

McStallen's Mailbag of Death

2005-05-06T12:24:00.000-04:00

Hello everyone. I am still holed up in an undisclosed location in the Congo. It looks like that nasty little incident in Cabinda has all but blown over, and I should be headed out of the region in a few days. I shall use this opportunity to answer some of the many e-mail questions I have received from my loyal readers over the past few months.

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Junior writes, "McStallen, Do you regret anything you've done?"

Well Junior, some of the things I've done, man...Well I don't feel like I've done something wrong. Sometimes, though I get this bad feeling... But I told the padre the truth, I like being a mercenary. You get to do what you want, nobody messes with you. The only worry you got is dying. And if that happens you won't know about it anyway. So what the hell?

--------------------------------------------------
Sheldon L. writes, "I am an aging mercenary working through Mitch and Murray. I haven't worked in months and can't get any good leads. My leads are all weak- What should I do?"

You're name's Levine, right? You call yourself a mercenary, you son of a bitch? The leads are weak? You're weak! I've been in this business 50 years -the money's out here- you don't pick it up, I got no sympathy for you- you'll be shining my shoes. And I know one day you'll be some loser sitting in a bar saying, "Oh yeah, I used to be a mercenary. ..glub glub...It's a tough racket!"

--------------------------------------------------

Harris writes, "You're the boss, you're such a hero, you're so powerful and dangerous, Why do you waste your time writing a blog to a bunch of bums like me?"

I made $970,000 last year. How much you make? You see pal, that's who I am, and you're nothing. Nice guy? I don't care. Good father? Screw you- go home and play with your kids!

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Runelvys H. writes, "Hi McStallen. I am a young pitcher in major league baseball but I am wanting to leave because my team is not providing good run support. I am thinking of becoming international mercenary. What does it take to be mercenary?"

Runelvys, it takes brass balls to be a mercenary.

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Night of the Angolans

2005-05-03T17:56:00.000-04:00

The Angolans came for us last night. Angola of course considers the Cabindan enclave to be part of its sovereign territory, and apparently no one from our operation had been paying off the blasted dos Santos Angolan regime. So dos Santos figured it was time for us to pay up and he sent the entire 141st Angolan regiment into the Cabindan enclave to wipe us out. Two Angolan tank columns performed a pincer movement to cut off our retreat, and then the Angolan infantry came pouring in. They were all over the place and they weren't stopping for shit. The whole scene was a mess and I ended up hiding in a fox-hole with the one-legged Obie. Obie said, "Yo McStallen, let's dee-dee man!" I replied, "You go!" So Obie hobbled out and I never saw him again. I remained in the fox-hole and covered myself with the body of a dead Angolan. Some of the other mercenaries barricaded themselves in the command bunker and called on our brass to pound our own position from their off-shore destroyer. But an Angolan missile sank our destroyer before it could fire, evoking erie memories of the Sheffield.

The explosions continued throughout the night, and I put on the dead Angolan's and blood-soaked uniform. I took out my K-bar and cut off his face, throwing the hot flesh on top of my own face. I crept outside the fox-hole and laid still until the morning, when the shooting finally stopped. As first light came, a young Angolan medic saw me and told me to stay calm because a "bird" was on the way. Soon thereafter they loaded me on a medical chopper and took me back to headquarters. The Angolan officials were unable to identify me (presumably because I was still wearing a mask of human flesh), and an Angolan officer named Muthareka interrogated me for a few hours, even administering a Voit-Kampff test. This Muthareka fellow told me he was looking for notorious global mercenaries, such as Ricky Beltran, Obie, Ricky Roma, Bunny and McStallen. I told him I didn't believe in God or the Devil, but I believe in McStallen, and that McStallen was now in a barbershop quartet in Skokie Illinois. Muthareka admitted he was unfamiliar with Skokie Illinois, but bought my story, and let me go- he'll never know how close he came to catching me.

.
An Angolan tank pauses during its assault on our diamond mining operation. We knocked out three Angolan tanks, which were dinosaurs purchased from the Soviets in the late 1970s. Nevertheless, the Angolan ground forces eventually over-ran our position.

I left the Angolan military compound and got on a decrepit public bus headed into the Congo. I hadn't been there since Mobutu was in power, but I knew some Congolese rubber farmers that owed me a few favor; some years ago I had poisoned the river supply of a rival village as a personal favor to them, and now I called upon them to do a favor for me. So they're quartering me now in their squalid village, and I am going to lay low for a little bit while this Cabindan thing settles down. Their food is poor and their wireless connection dreadfully slow, but I suppose I should just be thankful to be alive.

I would like to close by apologizing for the recent lack of fantasy sports analysis on this blog; these last few days I have been very busy killing people and trying not to get killed, and I can assure you all that I shall return to the world of fantasy sports very soon.

Ricky Beltran Lights Up Some Friendlies

2005-04-27T23:16:00.000-04:00

I have disturbing news to report from Cabinda. Ricky Beltran, a trusted comrade who I have worked with since Thatcher's botched coup, fired on his own personnel today. Beltran was on guard duty and began to consume massive quantities of alcohol. He told his comrades "not to worry (because they were) hanging with Audie Murphy tonight." Later that evening Beltran saw a few armed figures coming over the horizon, and without asking for the code word, fired his .50 caliber on them, killing two and seriously injuring a third. Unfortunately, the three men turned out to be some of our colleagues returning from a night of pillaging the local Cabindan women. When Beltran realized whom he had shot, he broke down. Grief-stricken, he fired several .45 caliber slugs into his amo man Hondo and Wilson the janitor, and then turned the gun on himself and blew his head off. It was a tough day for everyone.

Well you see, in this kind of operation, things get confused out here, power, ideals, the old morality, and practical military necessity. Because there's a conflict in every human heart between the rational and the irrational, between good and evil. And good does not always triumph. Sometimes the Dark Side overcomes what Lincoln called "the better angels of our nature." Therein, man has a breaking point. You and I have ours. Ricky Beltran has reached his. And very obviously, he had gone insane. Beltran acted without any decent restraint, totally beyond the pale of any acceptable human conduct.

Obie, the surviving mercenary who was injured by Beltran's reprehensible shooting

So things are tough here. And from what I can tell they're not going any better in America, as the Major League Baseball disabled list has once again become littered with injured players. A recap of some of the most tragic injuries:

1) Curt Schilling- Well I suppose everyone saw this one coming. The rotund Schilling was all too eager to return to the mound, and damned if he didn't return too soon. The mind was willing, but the body was not. Schilling's going back on the DL, and who knows if he will ever pitch like a #1 fantasy hurler this year. Wade Miller can't come back soon enough and Tim Wakefield and Bronson Arroyo don't have to worry about heading to the pen any time soon.

2) Armando Benitez- He helped San Fransisco win on Teusday, and San Fransisco lost him on the very same fateful night. An MRI revealed Benitez will miss the next 4 months, meaning he could return for the Giants' last 30 or 40 games. Matt Herges will likely fill in, and my advice to everyone going to Giants games would be to take public transporation. If you park your car outside the stadium you run a high risk of having your windshield shattered by a Herges homerun ball. Herges has been a good set-up man, but was a disaster last year as the Giants interim closer.

3) Jason Isringhausen- Izzy landed on the 15 day DL as well. Look for Julian Tavarez and Ray King to try and pick up the slack.

4) Chad Fox- Fox was just trying to keep the mound warm for Joe Borowski when he suffered what may very well be a career-ending injury. Look for that Michael Wuertz guy to step in until Borowski is healthy.

5) David Wells- Didn't I just write something about an injured obese aging Boston hurler? Well make that two. Both Schilling and Wells are headed to the DL, and Theo Epstein may get a spot start.

6) Jaret Wright- In the same vein as mercy killings, Wright has been placed on the DL so he can try to remember how to pitch.

7) Ben Sheets- Ben's ear hurts so he may hop on the DL for a little bit until his ear feels better. They're called allergies Ben.

That's all for now. Again this is a sad day for me because of all the baseball injuries, and it was compounded by Ricky Beltran's equally tragic shooting rampage.

Security Detail in Cabinda

2005-04-24T23:14:00.000-04:00

My oh my things went well enough in Cambodia that I was able to land another assignment very quickly through word-of-mouth alone. I have found myself in the Republic of Cabinda, working on a security detail for a European diamond exporter. Essentially, my team provides security for the workers and protects the perimeter from trespassers. There is a stream that runs across much of the land and often times trespassers will come during the night and attempt to draw water from it. Last night we caught two trespassers, gutted them like the pigs they are, and strung their bodies up on the concertina wire to deter future trespassing. We also strung some claymores up in the trees and ended up blowing a few more trespassers to pieces. Bad shit, man. Bad shit.

Me, second from left, activating one of the claymores. Ricky Beltran (far left) looks on gleefully

There are alot of local laborers working on this project. They should be happy to have work, and yet the laborers have quickly developed a reputation for being lazy and under-performing. We have been told by my boss to motivate the laborers to work better. If we identify a laborer who is working too slowly, we often fire our machine guns at them to let them know they ought to work better. Sometimes we will actually shoot and kill the under-performing laborer; although the dead laborer will no longer be able to work on the project, my boss feels the killing acts to motivate the surviving laborers to work much harder and the trade-off is well worth the loss of the laborer.

Here I am monitoring the productivity of the workers

Sometimes a few of the laborers have attempted to flee the work-site. They signed a contract to work on this project until it was completed, and anyone fleeing is in breach of the contract. My boss has told us we are to shoot anyone attempting to breach the contract, and although it is a bit of a subjective assessment, I think we have done a fine job implementing his orders to the best of our abilities. We have some restraints on this project and cannot kill with impunity; we can be docked up to a week's pay for an illegal killing.

At any rate things here are going well, but I have been extremely busy, and I shall have a sports update in a few days once I get caught up with everything.

Placido's Song

2005-04-19T21:58:00.000-04:00

Who weeps for Placido Polanco? A skape-goat and patsy like Lee Harvey Oswald, Mr. Polanco has found himself the latest victim of Philadelphia's self-destructive sports fan base.

As many of you know, Philadelphia has gone over 20 years without a national sports championship. Of the 15 most populated cities in America, Philadelphia is one of only two (the other being Detroit) that actually has a shrinking urban population. It is always bad to be likened to Detroit. So this city has set it's sights on the hard-nosed Placido Polanco, the latest victim of its misguided sports lynch mob, which has chased people like Larry Brown, Terry "Tito" Francona, and Curt Schilling out of town so they could win championships elsewhere. Granted Francona was an idiot, Schilling an egomaniac, and Larry Brown couldn't work with Iverson- but let's not split hairs.

Mr. Polanco has merited a starting spot in the Philadelphia infield. He is a career .294 hitter who has struck out only 222 times in 9 seasons. After the 2004 all-star break Polanco hit .326 and socked 12 homers. The fan base however believes they know more than the management and has collectively demanded youngster Chase Utley play second base- so that the team will have a better chance to win in both the present and the future. But what could a fan base of a team that has won only one world series in 100+ years possibly know about winning? Couldn't their chances of winning be better if they just kept their mouths shut, were patient, and allowed the management to run its course? Ed Wade may be a moron, but it's not like overt fan action like hurling batteries at JD Drew or "honking for Hershel" has brought home any championships. Please that kind of reprehensible conduct only brings Phialdelphia closer to Detroit. Or perhaps it is the bi-product of depression?

As it stands now, the fans have booed Mr. Polanco when he has been introduced, and booed him when he has made outs. He has responded by keeping his mouth shut (unlike the fans mind you) and helping the Phils win games. He was booed on national TV Sunday night against the Atlanta Braves, and responded by preserving a tie by gunning down Johnny Estrada at the plate. Incidentally, both Estrada and the player the Phillies traded him for (the enigmatic Kevin Millwood) have found greener pastures after leaving Philadelphia. Polanco later drove in both the game-tying and game-winning runs.

Nevertheless there are no signs the boos will stop until Utley locks up second base. And why is David Bell not booed? Surely Polanco could replace the under-achieving Bell at third base, and Utley could play second base while Bell sits. "Race" is one theory why Bell is not booed instead of Polanco- Bell is white, Utley is white, most of the fans are white, and Polanco is not white. But let's hope the city and team that were notorious for giving Jackie Robinson a hard time are beyond such conduct as we have reached the next millenium. And let's not single Philadelphia out as a racist city- Philadelphia Pennsylvania isn't even the most racist city in America named "Philadelphia." Indeed substantial steps have been made in Philadelphia, but it is disheartening to see a predominantly white crowd of clueless privileged suburbanites, souf Philadelphians, and Cherry Hill white trash booing Polanco in favor of Utley and perhaps Bell. But what the hell do I know anyway? Here is where you can go to see how it all really is- You didn't know? Well then I strongly recommend you ask somebody.

Regardless, I weep for Placido

Doin' the Village

2005-04-16T12:03:00.000-04:00

They sent me back into the Camobdian village the next day, about two thousand meters into Cambodia, into a battalion perimeter. It felt like I was returning to the scene of a crime.

The village, which had stood for maybe a thousand years, didn't know I was coming back that day. If they had, they would've run. I was the eye of my team’s rage. And through me, a self-proclaimed captain Ahab, I would set things right again. That day my team loved me.

I came into the village yelling "Mao! Mao!" and shooting my M-16 into the air, firing mostly warning shots. The villagers began to flee, but some didn't flee fast enough and got hit by machine gun bursts. I don’t like violence; I’m a businessman, and blood is a big expense. But sometimes people die in this business, and this is the life I chose. At any rate, after I had fired a few hundred rounds into the village, it had become completely deserted except for a few wild dogs, a chicken, two pigs, and a midget.

I waded back into the choppy river and received congratulatory remarks from my team-mates. My team-mates instructed me to wait in the river for an airlift, and then sped off in their sandpan. The mighty river became even choppier and I soon found myself struggling just to stay afloat, and unable to reach dry land.

I didn't see the first shark for about a half an hour. Tiger. Thirteen footer. You know how you can tell that when you're in the water? You tell by looking from the dorsal to the tail. Very first light, the sharks come cruising. So I start pounding and hollering and screaming and sometimes the sharks would go away. Sometimes they wouldn't go away. Sometimes that shark, he looks right into your eyes. You know the thing about a shark, he's got lifeless eyes, black eyes, like a doll's eye. When he comes at you, doesn't seem to be living. Until he bites you and those black eyes roll over white. And then you hear that terrible high-pitch screaming and the ocean turns red and they all come in and rip you to pieces.

But a Lockheed Ventura saw me, he swung in low and he saw me. He was a young pilot, a lot younger than Sorvatz, anyway he saw me and come in low. And three hours later a big fat PBY comes down to pick me up. You know that was the time I was most frightened? Waiting to get on. I'll never put on a lifejacket again. Anyway we delivered a napalm strike on the village and I ended up back in Saigon, mission accomplished.

I think now, looking back, we did not fight the Cambodian villagers, we fought ourselves. The enemy was in us. The war is over for me now, but it will always be there, the rest of my days. As I'm sure Sorvatz will be, fighting with Petros for what Dr. James Beckett called "possession of my soul." There are times since, I've felt like a child, born of those two fathers. But be that as it may, those of us who did make it have an obligation to build again. To teach to others what we know, and to try with what's left of our lives to find a goodness and a meaning to this life.

Colonel Terminated/ The Mettelsome Mr. Zero

2005-04-11T23:11:00.000-04:00

Well the mission actually went alot quicker than I thought it would. I snuck up on the colonel and beheaded him, effectively terminating his command with extreme prejudice. I went back and tried to rejoin my comrades on the sanpan, but the villagers quickly caught sight of me from the shore and began to protest. They hurled rocks and spears at us, and cursed us in their native tongue. We returned fire and the villagers quickly scattered. This nonsense with the villagers is starting to get out of control, and it will soon be time to take off the kiddie gloves.

I was somewhat preoccupied with murdering the tax collector and quelling the insipid village uprisings, I still managed to catch some major league baseball action. And frankly I don't know what to do with the meddling "Mr. Zero"...

Shingo Takatsu...AKA "Mr. Zero"

Mr. Zero, no relation to the WWII fighter aircraft, has been submarining grapefruits to major league batters for far too long. He gave up three dongs in one inning to the lowly Cleveland Indians last week. It was the first time in their long and troubled history that the Indians mustered three ninth inning homeruns. Today it appeared Mr. Zero was finally gone, but he replaced Damaso Marte to procure the final out as the surging White Sox marched on. My god it is an embarrassment to have this nitwit Takatsu take the mound for a save opportunity. If Ozzie Guillen won't remove Takatsu, I'll take matters into my own hands.

"Mr. .400" / My New Assignment

2005-04-10T23:01:00.000-04:00

Ichiro seen here firing an arrow into a dense crowd at Safeco Field.

Ted Williams can kiss my hairy bean-bag because our friend Ichiro (pronounced Ee-chee-roh) will be the first baseball player since 1941 to break the .400 mark. He has finally gotten his game to the next level, and there is almost nothing opposing teams can do to defeat this speedy slap-hitter.

Consider the following:
1) Ichiro hit over .500 this spring
2) Ichiro is currently riding a 19-game hitting streak dating back to last year, and is hitting .526 in 2005
3) Ichiro hit .429 after last year's all-star break
4) Ichiro is no stranger to dealing with the pressure that surrounds breaking records, as he broke George Sisler's all-time single-season hit record last year.

Unless he breaks down physically, we will see Ichiro do something very special this year, believe you me. And I digress.

Anyway, everyone gets everything he wants. I wanted a mission, and for my sins, they gave me one. They brought it up to me like room service...It was a real choice mission - and when it was over, I'd never want another...

I was going to the worst place in the world, and I didn't even know it yet. I was going through miles of jungle that snaked across the Cambodian country-side and plugged me like a main circuit cable directly into Colonel Bo Du. It was no accident that I got to be the caretaker of Colonel Du's memory, any more than being back in Cambodia was an accident. There is no way to tell his story without telling my own. And if his story is really a confession, then so is mine.

I was to terminate the command of Colonel Du, a provincial tax collector. At first, I thought they handed me the wrong dossier. I couldn't believe they wanted this man dead. Like they said, he had an impressive career, maybe too impressive, I mean perfect. He was being groomed for one of the top slots in Phnom Penh. But then things started to slip...

Revised Mission Plans/ Return to the Deadball Era

2005-04-09T11:06:00.000-04:00

I am still dealing with the fall-out of the villager shooting and I must admit these Cambodians are taking it alot worse than I thought. The local priest performed a ceremony to put a curse on our entire crew and the villagers have made several unsuccessful and bloody attempts to commandeer our vessel. All in all it is making it nearly impossible for us to operate a covert intelligence-gathering mission from the river.

So my mission leader Sorvatz, whom I fought side-by-side with in the Falklands, has decided it is best I go. He thinks the team may be able to make peace with the village if I am out of the picture. So I'm out. My employer has given me a new mission where I am to go inland about 15 clicks to the Qan Tri province and assissinate a local government tax collector. This is really just "busy work," but I guess it is better than no work at all, and I will take what I can get.

Every day, many of the surviving villagers gather and pray for bad things to happen to me

It's usually during depressing times like these that I can turn to the Great American Past-time to cheer me up. But there is no joy to be found here either. What in the world has happened to the lumber? The offense just isn't there this year. Smaller parks, more teams, stronger players- all that was supposed to lead to more offense. And don't get me wrong, I appreciate defense and pitching too, but I am shocked and appalled to see offensive teams like Houston, St. Louis y Los Yanquis putting up one or two runs in a game. Why is this happening?

Could it be that many sluggers are deflating? In the wake of the Balco-juice scandal, I believe many players have done away with their supplements and steroids and now they have to play normal baseball. Those that do not play by the rules risk severe sanctions such as our favorite Cuban cast-off, Alex Sanchez. So will these players start hitting? Or will we see a deflated Sammy Sosa hit twenty dongs this year? You heard it here first- most ballplayers were taking/injecting/consuming controband into their bodies, and now that they are stopping there will be a whole lot less offense this year. And maybe for years to come.

Lyon in Spring/ Sanpan Massacre

2005-04-02T13:30:00.000-05:00

This is the first weekend of the 2005 season, and it is time to address some last minute rumors, injuries, and concerns dealing with closers.

Ned Yost ended speculation in Milwaukee today by formally naming Mike Adams the closer. This seemed like the obvious move, but Yost was wary of going with Adams because he felt Adams was trying to strikeout too many batters and his arm would wear down as the season progressed. Someone should remind Mr. Yost the Brewers will not be in too many save situations, and the possibility his closer may wear down should be the least of his worries. But perhaps Mr. Yost is on to something; you may recall last year Danny Kolb was an extremely effective closer for the Brewers, and he struck out only 21 batters the entire season.

Who will shut the door in Los Angeles? Dear me it appears everyone's favorite four-eyed frog Eric Gagne has himself a bugger of an injury. He will go to the 15-day DL and expect Yhency Brazoban to assume the role of interim closer.

And what of "Mr. Zero?" Spring training opponents teed off on Shingo Takatsu and his 80 MPH "heat" the past few months. He has been around the league once now, and I believe most junior circuit batters are on to him. Youngster Neal Cotts is waiting for Takatsu to falter.

Who will shut the door in Arizona? I am still going with Brandon Lyon on this one. Watch out- he did a serviceable job in Boston before the Foulke-era, and he may come out of nowhere to displace both Greg Aquino and Jose Valverde.

Who will close at Coors? With Chin-hui Tsao injured, the Rockies will go with Brian Fuentes, Justin Spier, Donnie Moore, the recently released Amaury Telemaco or god knows who. The best thing to do here is just wait and see who starts getting the saves in the box score. Rockies closers have a bloody poor history (Shawn Chacon and Jose Jimenez inter alia) so don't cut anyone you need in hopes of beating your other league owners' to Tsao's replacement.

And what's going on up north? No one really cares about Canada, but Miguel Batista quietly assumed the role of closer in Toronto. The Blue Jays tried several other players in that role this spring, and suffice it to say Mr. Batista is on a very thin leash and may go the way of Fulgencio.

And it's finally official...The O's announced that the unhittable BJ Ryan will replace the very hittable Jorge Julio as the O's closer for 2005

Oh and Big Ups to Raul Ibanez. This semi-slugger has slipped blowe most fantasy owner's radar. He had a Ruthian 27 RBIs this spring, and he will be batting in a retooled line-up. He will be 33 in June and has only 85 career homeruns, but I think he may get 110-115 RBIs in the at line-up. Indeed Ibanez, Carl Everett, and former first overall draft pick Adrian Gonzalez were among the hottest hitters this spring.

Miguel Batista, shown duking it out with Tino Martinez, may be a great sleeper closer for the Toronto Blue Jays in the highly competitive AL East

And as some of you may know we had a bit of trouble already on the Sanpan. A few Cambodian village children had come out in a raft to greet us with flowers and chocolate, and it was not until I had shot several of them that they actually identified themselves as unarmed civilians. Some of my team-mates were a little bit taken aback by the whole thing, and the local village seems to be in a state of mourning.

This is a shame but these things happen in the fog of war. Everyone, even children, should know better than to approach an unidentified vessel. Granted our machine guns and bugging equipment are concealed at all times, but no one should be stupid enough to float out on the Nung River and greet a vessel they cannot readily identify. Unfortunately, the fact the children were singing as they neared our sanpan served only to alert me more quickly of their position and made them much easier targets. I have fought against "child soldiers" numerous times in central Africa, and I will tell you this: Do not let your guard down against a child. If you foul up when you are fighting a child, you'll be going home...In a body bag!

New Assignment in South East Asia/Preseason Busts

2005-03-31T22:40:00.000-05:00

Greetings loyal readers. I have some news on the job front. I have been hired by a South East Asian rebel faction to work as a consultant in their attempts to overthrow their nation state's current illicit regime. I will be operating out of a SanPan (AKA a "luxury pontoon boat") again but hopefully there won't be too much violence this time around. My god I hope I don't have to kill women and children on the river again. So much blood. So much suffering. Why did it have to happen God? Why?

I digress. Anyway the bad news is that I will be in a dreadfully isolated region when the major league baseball season begins. I'm not sure what kind of wireless plans they have out there, and I am just going to take a chance and hope things work out.

Now the baseball season is indeed fast approaching. I have decided to use the remainder of this post to chronicle my preseason busts. That is players who have already had bad things happen to them before the season has even begun. The value of these players is dropping faster than a Stuka so be careful:

1) Ryan Dempster, SP, Chicago (senior)- A week ago I told you Dempster was getting an opportunity to start for the Cubs. This boner has been shelled the whole spring and has squandered said opportunity.
2) Frank Thomas, DH, Chicago (junior) -Oh let the puns begin, The Big hurt is indeed hurting (bum ankle) and lord knows if or when this rotund under-achiever shall return to the baseball diamond.
3) Juan Gonzalez, OF, Cleveland- Some people thought Mr. Gonzalez would undergo a resurgency in Cleveland, but instead he is headed back to the disabled list because of a hamstring injury.
4) Dave Roberts, OF, San Diego- the speedy Roberts has a sore hamstring and may have played his way out of a starting role to super-sleeper Xavier Nady
5) Vinny Castilla, 3B, Wash- Based on '04 stats alone fantasy managers wasted valuable draft picks on this pud. If you were one of those idiots, it's best to cut your losses early and cut him lose- those '04 stats are gone and they are not coming back brother
6) Ryan Howard, 1B, Phi- His path to the big league clogged by the hulking Jim Thome, the mountainous Howard was just sent to the Phillies triple-A affiliate. What he's not good enough to pinch hit in the show? Come on Philadelphia, you're better than that!

Howard, who embiggens the image of the prototypical first basemen of the future, recently asked the cromulent Philadelphia brass to trade him.

7) Greg Aquino, RP, Arizona- A hot pick-up on draft day, Aquino has been knocked around like a cheap trailer-park whore and may lose his job to uber-sleeper Brandon Lyon
8) Jaret Wright, SP, New York (junior)- Joe Torre has decided Wright doesn't need to pitch the first few weeks of the season, y los Yanquis will use a 4-man rotation. Not a very ringing endorsement. ALthough if Kevin Brown has any more set-backs, it may be Brown, and not Wright, who gets skipped in the rotation.
9) Braden Looper, RP, New York (senior)- Looper hasn't done anything wrong. On the contrary, Looper has pitched quite admirably this preseason. But trade rumors abound that Ugie Urbina or Danys Baez may be headed to Flushing to supplant Looper as the Mets closer
10) Nick Swisher, OF, Oakland- this top Oakland prospect had a poor spring
11) Dallas McPherson, 3B, LosAngeles (junior) -a hot prospect in the off-season, McPherson's trek to the big leagues (and fantasy stock) has been gravely affected by injuries and poor play. He will start the season in the minors.
12) Brian Lawrence, SP, San Diego- this man frustrates fantasy owners every season. This preseason opposing hitters have smacked him around mercilessly.
13) Chin-hui Tsao, RP, Colorado- this promising closer suffered a very serious arm injury and has rotator cuff tendinitis- Don't hold your breath that he returns to the role of Rockies closer.

And please note I left Barry Bonds out of this discussion out of respect to his late father Bobby Bonds. Bobby, it's kind of hard with you not around. Although I know you are in heaven smiling down. Watching us while we play for you. Every day we play for you. Til the day we meet again. In my heart is where I'll keep you friend.

Reeling in that Stud Pitcher off the Waiver Wire...

2005-03-26T18:46:00.000-05:00

Greetings draft sharks. I will use this post to discuss some starting pitching prospects that likely fell below the radar of most drafters. Good starting pitching is tough to find, and the waiver wire is an excellent source for starters.

Here goes:

1) Orlando Hernandez, Chicago (American)- "El Duque" is an old friend of mine from my banana raiding days. He is injury-prone, but averages a strike-out per inning when healthy, and he doesn't allow many runs
2) Ryan Dempster, Chicago (National)- his value plummetted when it became evident he would not be closing any games for Dusty Baker's Cubs. But that just means he will get a shot to start in a good offense that has a banged up pitching rotation
3) Joe Kennedy and Jeff Francis, Colorado- Kennedy is the purported ace of the Rockie staff, and Francis is the young flame-thrower that may average a strikeout per inning. This spring Francis struck out 10 in 12 innings and mustered a 2.25 ERA. Because Kennedy and Francis are pitching in Colorado, most fantasy owners shied away from drafting them.
4) Gavin Floyd, Philadelphia- I say this man's name nearly every week. At least his name isn't Gabbin. Well he should get a few starts early in the season now that Vincente Padilla is hurt
5) Gil Meche, Seattle- most people stayed away from him because he hasn't pitched well in nearly in two years. This spring Meche was 2-0 with a 1.98 ERA and averaged better than a strikeout per inning- so consider giving him another shot
6) Scott Elarton, Cleveland- this former Houston prospect is trying to resurrect his career in Cleveland, and had a fantastic spring, going 3-1 with a 3.00 ERA.

7) Runelvys Hernandez, Kansas City- Is he healthy?
8) Estaban Loaiza, Washington- the "dot-com" of pitching, this man's stock sunk in '04 as quickly as it rose in '03.
9) Mark Redman, Pittsburgh- Mr. Redman has pitched for Minnesota, Detroit, Florida and Oakland. And maybe even somewhere else. Has he found a home in Pittsburgh? Maybe the change of scenery will do him well- His numbers on the road were great last year (2.90 ERA), but he was continually shelled at home in Oakland (7.46 ERA).

And when fishing for starters remember this: Don't get off the boat- Colonel Walter Kurtz got off the boat, and look what happened to him

Crossing Jordan/ Fantasy Basketball Trouble

2005-03-25T19:33:00.001-05:00

All good things must come to an end, and I have left my hospital bed in Jordan and will be moving to another undisclosed location. My wound is healed and hopefully I will be training and preparing for another mission. There are lots of good projects popping up right now, and I have been in contact with the Taiwanese and Bolivian government and am hoping someone will give me a nice project. I debated using a temp agency or head hunter to find an assignment, but I find those sorts of people to be of the lowest moral caliber, and am also wary my contact with them may jeopardize the confidentiality of my operations. No sir I'll never work for a temp agency again.

As I bid farewell to my loyal guards in Jordan, I took a photo of them that I promised would appear on my popular blog

All that is well and good, but I am very disgusted with the state of the American National Basketball Association, and in particular, its effect on fantasy basketball. My every year good fantasy teams are sunk by injuries occurring late in the season. Many of these Sallys sit out for weeks as a mere precaution. This year's list includes Brad Miller, AK-47 (Andrei Kirilenko, and Oh What a magnificent nick-name!), Jermaine O'Neal, Zack Randolph, Lamar Odom, and of course everyone's favorite former Demon Deacon, Tim Duncan. This is absolute nonsense! How is a fantasy owner to cope?

In these sorts of leauges, it is quite easy to replace guards. They are everywhere- like the Cong. But big men are tough to find. So I have made a few suggestions for weary fantasy owners:
McStallen's waiver-wire free agent fantasy hoops pick-ups!
1) Brian Skinner, FC, Sacremento- filling in admirably for Brad Miller in Sacremento. He could also replace Miller on a fantasy roster.
2) Joel Pryzbilla, C, Portland- I am afraid cats out of the bag on this one. The "Vanilla Gorilla" is a monster, an more than likely he was skooped up a few weeks ago
3) Dan Gadzuric, C Milwaukee- he's finally getting the minutes he deserves. Look for Gadzuric to provide boards and blocks, but not buckets.
4) Nenad Krstic, C New Jersey- a little inconsistent, but certainly worthy of a roster spot
5) Dale Davis, C Indiana- a rebounding machine in March

Draft Buzz

2005-03-22T22:09:00.000-05:00

I am getting ready to leave Jordan, and have spent the law few days observing mock fantasy baseball drafts. This has certainly passed the time better than "Freejack," which I have quickly grown tired of.

And I must admit I was surprised with many of the late risers in the drafts I have been privy to. Here is my list of a dozen draft risers:

1) Jeremy Bonderman, Detroit, pitcher- everyone knew this kid had alot of talent, but out of nowhere people are yelling "Cy Young!" I haven't seen this much excitement around a Tiger pitcher since the days of Frank Tanana and Dan Petry

2) Jeremy Reed, Seattle, outfield- this guy has alot of potential and will get a shot to produce in the revamped Seattle offense. People seem to think he will be a Corey Patterson without all the strikeouts

3) Justin Morneau, Minnestoa, first base- people are picking this youngster to hit 35-40 homers this year. There are alot of good first baseman this year, and Morneau is going 5-10 rounds before stars like Kansas City's Mike Sweeney.

4) Gavin Floyd, Philadelphia, pitcher- those of you loyal to my blog have heard this name before. This kid has the perfect build for a stud pitcher, and has downright nasty stuff. Philadelphia was hesitant to rush him into the rotation, but he should get a shot now that several Philadelphia hurlers are hurting- Vincente Padilla in particular.

5) Nick Swisher, Oakland, outfield- a top draft pick of the cursed capitalist Billy Bean, Swisher is expected to produce big numbers in the bottom part of the Oakland line-up. Buyer Beware- Swisher had an awful spring

6) Tony Womack, New York, second base- this man is like a cock roach. Or like the Viet Cong. He just won't go away. He hit over .550 this spring and will likely bat 9th for the Yanquis. But look for the aging Womack to wear down as the long baseball season progresses.

7) Chone Figgins, Los Angeles (American), utility- Figgins can play many positions and his versatility and base-stealing ability commanded alot of interest from fantasy owners. Be wary of Figgins losing playin time to Dallas McPherson and Adam Kennedy as they get into playing shape.

8) Huston Street, Oakland, relief pitcher- many expect Street to supplant Octavio Dotel at some point this season as Oakland's closer. Dotel owners beware!

9) Clint Barmes, Colorado, shortstop/second base/; JD Closser, Colorado, catcher; Garrett Atkins, Colorado, third base - this trio of Rockie youngsters could provide badly needed help for an owner desperate for infield slugging

10) Brando Inge, Detroit, catcher/third base- Inge's versailtiy is unique, and he may bat lead-off because of the injuries in Detroit and the dismissal of the lazy Alex Sanchez

11) Kevin Mench, Texas, outfield- Mench may emerge as a homerun threat in the deep Ranger outfield depth chart. He slugged 26 dongs in a little over 400 at-bats last year, so scan your waiver-wires for this meat-head

12) Jason Lane, Houston, outfield- the primary beneficiary of the injury to Lance Berkman, the power-hitting Lane should retain a starting position in the Houston outfield even after Berkman returns.

On a final note I would like to apologize for ending several of my sentences in this post with prepositions. That is reprehensible, but I am quite tired and it is hard to think clearly because I am so doped up on morphine.

Shortstop Preview!

2005-03-19T20:02:00.000-05:00

I am still laying down recouperating from my injury. I refuse to go outside and the doctor told me I have agorophobia, which I believe is the fear of bulls. But there are not many bulls in Jordan.

OK so now I will be previewing shortstops. I remember doing a fantasy draft while I was in Kosovo a few years back, and it seemed superstar shortstops were everywhere. But these times they are a changin. There's not as much here as there used to be- don't get left out in the cold- make sure you grab a decent option at short before they are all gone!

1) Miguel Tejada, Baltimore- no more A-Rod, so Tejada is king. And it is good to be king.
2) Michael Young, Texas- under-rated
3) Nomar Garciapara, Boston err... Chicago -over-rated
4) Derek Jeter, Yanquis -more over-rated
5) Carlos Guillen, Detroit -had a break-thru season in '04
6) Rafael Furcal, Atlanta -solid option
7) Jose Reyes, Mets -plays 2B and SS
8) Jimmy Rollins, Philadelphia -good numbers in ’04, but a little inconsistent
9) Edgar Renteria, St. Louis -numbers may decline now that he has left St. Louis
10) Bobby Crosby, Oakland -Tool of the insidiuos Billy Beane, scripter of the slanderous "Money Ball"
11) Orlando Cabrera, Los Angeles -had an off year last year
12) Clint Barmes, Colorado -Royce Clayton’s replacement in Coors Field
13) Jose Valentin, Does it matter where he plays? -nice homerun numbers
14) Chandra Bose, India -German sympathizer
15) BJ Upton -stud in the making who will start the season in the minors because of his poor fielding.

More Drugs for McStallen = First Base Preview

2005-03-18T21:55:00.000-05:00

The morphine is kicking in, so I decided to do two posts in one night because I am in such a good mood.

Well we did second base, so I suppose it would only be right to cover first base now. There is alot of talent here kids, so don't be too eager to get a star. You can probably get a very good one 8-10 rounds into the bloody draft.

1) Albert Pujols, St. Louis- he is probably really 35-years old, but he is simply the best out there
2) Todd Helton, Colorado- outstanding hitter
3) Jim Thome, Philadelphia- this big lummox may hit 55 homeruns this year
4) David Ortiz, Boston- former Twin who went ape-shit last season
5) Mark Teixeira, Texas- everyone is waiting for him to win a homerun title. Move him up a few slots on your cheatsheet if he is eligible at third base in your league
6) Justin Morneau, Minnesota- consensus break-out player at first base
7) Aubrey Huff, Tampa Bay- two years ago he was the consensus break-out player at third base
8) Derek Lee, Cubs- are his days as a base stealer over?
9) Richie Sexson, Seattle- a steal as a late-round pick, although Seattle's Safeco Field is not very hitter-friendly
10) Carlos Delgado, Florida- may have an outstanding season batting in Captain Jack McKeon's stacked line-up
11) Paul Konerko, Whitesox- won't reproduce last season's success
12) Travis Hafner, Cleveland- this year's draft "bust" at first base
13) Jeff Bagwell, Houston- hits worse and worse every year
14) Tom Hagen, New York- when Sonny was a kid he found Tom Hagen in the street. He's not a Sicilian, but I think he's going to be consiglieri.
15) Phil Nevin, San Diego- may be eligible at third base too
16) Sean Casey, Cincy- could be a steal if he can reproduce his '04 season
17) Brad Wilkerson, Montreal- under-rated
18) Lyle Overbay, Milwaukee- faded fast last season- McStallen says "Stay Away!"
19) Nick Johnson, Montreal- make-or-break season for the former Yanqui prospect
20) Mike Sweeney, Kansas City- a steal if he can stay healthy- pity though that the rest of the line-up is downright terrible

Watch out for Darin Erstad, Dmitri Young, Craig Wilson, Kevin Millar, Carlos Pena and Shawn Green- they're all decent hitters. And keep an extra eye out for Mo Vaughn clone Ryan Howard, who is waiting behind Jim Thome in musty Philadelphia

McStallen's Cinema Picks/ Second Base Preview

2005-03-18T21:19:00.000-05:00

Well the Jordanians sure know how to return a favor. I am living comfortably here as I wait for my leg to recover. There is not much to do and my TV does not get any reception. I started watching DVDs on my laptop, but the only movie here is the science-fiction classic "Freejack," and I have watched it several times already and I cannot bare to watch it again. But I must say this Mick Jagger is certainly an entertaining figure. Bravo!

The devilish Mick Jagger surveys the scene in the American cinema classic "Freejack"

Onto second base. And my there is a great disparity of talent here. Just as in Jordan, there are the "haves" and the "have-nots." If you cannot grab a solid second basemen, try to get someone who will at leaat help you in stolen bases. Also be on the prowl for versatility- players like Chone Figgins, Pedro Feliz, Jose Reyes, Juan Uribe are of a little addiitonal value because of their versatility.

1) Alfonso Soriano, Texas- the best by far
2) Jeff Kent, Los Angeles- nice mustache, but look for the numbers to decline now that he has relocated to Los Angeles
3) Marcus Giles, Atlanta- injured alot last year
4) Jose Reyes, Mets- I am very high on this little man, as he could steal 75-100 bases if he can play a full season. Use him as a second baseman or shortstop.
5) Bret Boone, Seattle- may have a big year if he is still using anabolic steroids
6) Mark Loretta, San Diego- outstanding season in '04. Can he reproduce it in '05?
7) Tony Womack, Yanquis- this man may have a monster year in New York- he will be a great draft-day steal. Too hell with "thumbs"- I say "Two Kalishnikov's Up" for this ball-player!
8) Jose Vidro, Washington- Mr. Vidro had an off year last year due in large part to injuries
9) Chase Utley, Philadelphia- Up-and-coming slugger who may hit 30 dongs in Philadelphia's homerun-happy ballpark
10) Brian Roberts, Baltimore- stopped stealing bases last year after the all-star break- maybe because his opponents were on to him. Or maybe he was just paranoid, like the great Josef Stalin
11) Chone Figgins, Los Angeles- may lose playing time when Adam Kennedy returns
12) Luis Castillo, Florida- a late-round steal- remeber when he was a "top-3" second baseman?
13) Mark Belhorn, Boston- good clutch hitter in a powerful line-up who plays to hoards of drunken bean-eaters
14) Jerry Hairston, Jr., Cubs- will he start? If so, where?
15) Aaron Miles, Colorado- let's call this "The Eliis Burks Rule"- Mr. Miles will be decent so long as he starts for Colorado

Leaving on a Midnight Train to Jordan/ Back-stop Preview

2005-03-16T23:00:00.000-05:00

Well things got a bit too hairy at the hospital, and my old friends in the Jordanian government have arranged for me to have safe passage across the border to Jordan. I am riding on a government train as we speak, and taking full advantage of their excellent wireless services.

Several of you have e-mailed me saying you are afraid to leave a comment on my blog because you think I may kill you. I would like to reassure all my readers that I only kill to protect myself or for money, and I don't plan to kill anyone who posts on this site. That would be a silly thing to do!

Now onto the catcher preview, and what a worthless position it is! Even a good catcher will do very little for your team; most catchers don't play more than 130-140 games, so don't waste an early pick on one. And try to grab someone who is eligible at catcher but who actually plays a different position. That way you can nab someone who actually plays alot. That said, onto the rankings:

1) Ivan Rodriguez, Detroit- it's a god damn shame he doesn't DH
2) Javy Lopez, Baltimore- solid offensive threat in a strong line-up
3) Victor Martinez, Cleveland- reigning RBI king among catchers, he is young and still improving at the plate
4) Mike Piazza, Mets- let someone else waste an early pick on this clown
5) Jorge Posada, Yankees- disappointing season last year
6) Jason Varitek, Boston- the Red Sox highly value his services, but fantasy owners should not be as star-struck
7) Joe Mauer, Minnesota- had more dongs than people expected in '04 given his limited at-bats. A promising player who has already had his fare share of injuries
8) Jason Kendall, Oakland- former Pirate who was stolen from the organization by the evil capitalist Billy Bean
9) Michael Barrett, Cubs- under-rated
10) Brandon Inge, Detroit- should be eligible at catcher and third base
11) Johnny Estrada, Atlanta- can he repeat his strong performance of '04?
12) Paul LoDuca, Florida- really just good for batting average
13) JD Closser, Colorado- promising prospect and a sleeper favorite of my friend Gelbo, but young catchers have not had a good trek record in Colorado. And Charles Johnson may still be in the picture
14) Matt LeCroy, Minnesota- he's not a catcher, he just plays one in fantasy baseball
15) Miguel Olivo, Seattle- may put up nice numbers if the revamped Seattle line-up gels quickly

Joe Mauer could be a fantasy stud if he can stay healthy

More trouble in the streets/Fantasy Baseball Third Base preview

2005-03-13T22:21:00.000-05:00

I am still recovering from my wound in a hospital bed in an undisclosed location, and I spend most of my day crying in pain. The hospital I am in has run out of antibiotics, and the streets have become crowded with heavily-armed civilians. I fear the government here may fall, and I am unsure how I am going to get out of here. From my hospital bed, I have seen hundreds of angry civilians gathering and trading fire with government positions. The government soldiers are cowardly dogs, and I have no faith in their ability to control the civilian revolutionaries.

Here is a photograph from the streets around my hospital

Well onto more pleasant news- the fantasy baseball third base preview. Gobe are the days when you were lucky to have Tim Wallach at third. Now pratcially everyone hits like the Great mike Schmidt, and you should not overpay for a third-sacker because of the glut of talent here. Here are McStallen's top picks:
1) Alex Rodriguez, Yankees -the greatest
2) Scott Rolen, St. Louis- Scott may be a spineless coward from the midwest, but he is an RBI machine in St. Louis
3) Eric Chavez, Oakland- well-rounded slugger who is a tool of the fiendish Billy bean and his slanderous "Money Ball" literature which makes "Satanic Verses" look like a child's coloring book
4) Aramis Ramirez, Chicago- very under-rated
5) Melvin Mora, Baltimore- even more under-rated
6) Adrian Beltre, Seattle-MVP season last year- bust of the year this year
7) Aubrey Huff, Tampa Bay- finished strong last year after a slow start -plays first base too
8) Hank Blalock, Texas- starting to hit lefties
9) David Wright, Mets- stud in the making
10) Mike Lowell, Florida- had cancer
11) Troy Glaus, Arizona- injury concern
12) Chipper Jones, Atlanta- yes, he's eligible at third again this year
13) Aaron Boone, Cleveland- Remember him?
14) Casey Blake, Cleveland- smart bet?
15) Dallas McPherson, Angles- Troy who? Why do I ask so many questions?
16) Chone Figgins- very versatile
17) Bill Mueller, Boston- very consistent
18) Vinny Castilla, DC- he's not in Colorado any more
19) Corey Koskie, Minnesota- who cares?
20) Sean Burroughs, San Diego- his dad was a good baseball player

Betrayal in Cairo/Fantasy baseball closer preview

2005-03-10T22:33:00.000-05:00

Well I just got back from Egypt, and, as the Americans say, "When it rains it pours." We had moved Rodrigo to Egypt in hopes of fleeing the Nepalese officials. Unfortunately our contact in Egypt sold our operation out. Egyptian military police surrounded our base-camp and I was lucky to shoot my way out. Several of my team-mates were not as fortunate; Rodrigo was killed by a grenade, and Doohan was found a day later floating face-down in the Suez Canal. Needless to say the entire operation has left me quite agitated with the current state of free-lance global military operations.

But onto fantasy sports. As promised in my newsletter, I will start my fantasy baseball preview on this blog. The first matter regards "closers." This is always an intriguing category; fantasy owners need saves to win the save category, yet they should be wary of closers with high ERAs and WHIPs. As Sun Tzu so frequently noted, one should not sacrifice two categories for the sake of one category.
McStallen's top 5 bargain-value closer options:
1) Armando Benitez, San Fransisco- all he does is save games. The change of scenery to America's bay area may scare some fantasy owners away, but it shouldn't
2) Danny Kolb, Atlanta- this man was very good in Milwaukee, and both Milwaukee and it's baseball team are horrible entities
3) BJ Ryan, Baltimore - the Orioles are finally sitting Julio Jorge or Jorge Julio or Jorge Orta or whatever his name was, and are giving the hard-throwing Ryan a much-deservered chance to close
4) Guillermo Mota, Florida- Captain Jack McKeon's crew will not miss Armando Benitez now that they grabbed the virtually unhittable Mota
5) Ryan Dempster, Chicago- the Cubs may never win a World Series, but Dempster will save alot of games this year

Others to watch:
1) Mike Adams, Milwaukee- someone had to replace Kolb. Adams could be a good bargain, but beware his WHIP and ERA
2) Mike Gonzalez, Pittsburgh- Jose Mesa is fat and old, and it is only a matter of time before the Bucs go with Gonzo
3) Jeremy Affeldt, Kansas City- word out of Kansas City is that Affeldt corrected a few mechanical flaws and should be this year's Danny Kolb- lights out on a poor team

Beware:
1) Nationals Closers- Frank Robinson has hinted Chad Cordero and several others will share closer duties
2) Trevor Hoffman- I think Rob Nen was more durable
3) Shingo Takatsu-- "Mister Zero" has trouble hitting 80 MPH with his fastball; after some adjustments, American League hitters should have little trouble hitting his fastball

Rodrigo Wounded in Nepal/ Fantasy Baseball Starting This Week

2005-02-19T16:19:00.000-05:00

Hello everyone. There hasn't been much going on these past few days so some of my remaining operatives got bored. Rodrigo Boca (Juan's son) and DooHan decided to lead an ill-fated demolition mission into Nepal. They were intercepted by some of the royal family's security personnel, and a viscious gun battle ensued in the streets around the palace. Rodrigo suffered several gunshot injuries and was medivacced to Malaysia where he is in critical condition. Please keep him in your thoughts and prayers.

In other news, fantasy baseball is finally up on Yahoo! Their free site provides for a excellent basic league with plenty of options to follow American baseball. For live score-keeping, owners may choose to pay for Stat-tracker to give them the full play-by-play. I am not sure how many leagues I will be in this year, but I cannot wait for spring training.

A Break in the Action

2005-02-16T07:11:00.000-05:00

In the last few days, most of my senior operatives have left for various operations. I have been unable to accept any new contracts. At this point I have only a skeleton crew and have decided to scale back operations, and we are now actively operating in the Balkans. This will not make for a very interesting blog, so I have decided to use this website to chronicle my American fantasy sports exploits and opinions, in addition to my battlefield accomplishments.
Some of you have expressed concern that I may stop killing people. I would like to reassure everyone that I do not plan to stop killing people.

What If They Had A Peacekeeping Operation And Nobody Came?

2005-02-13T13:44:00.000-05:00

This morning I received an offer from a UN affiliate to provide additional security for a group of Pakistani peacekeepers in Sierra Leone- this would be essentially the same type of work we did for the British in Basra last October. I am scrambling to assemble a team, but it appears most of my field operators are already jumping to other projects – I suppose they became rather impatient after the Venezuelan incident, and they seemed to have taken the next offer they got.

DoHan and DooHan have left to do security work for Devlin McGregor, a pharmaceutical company. Jan has left for Korea again, presumably to trade pot shots with those bloody snipers on the 38th parallel. Helmut, my long-term associate that I spent so many wonderful years working with in Rhodesia (when they still called it Rhodesia) left Berlin this morning to have another go at the Chechens. Rodrigo just left Srebrenica and may have something lined up in the Far East.

Yesterday I had a team but not a mission. Today I have a mission but don’t have a team. Sadly I prefer the former to the latter.

Thank You Fidel Castro

2005-02-12T17:35:00.000-05:00

Of course I am being facetious. The whole reason we left Iraq was to gather a team for an operation in Venezuela. I was trying to keep this secret since we were going in to remove President Chavez. Apparently word leaked out to the Cubans, probably from some dumb American in Washington. And of course that rat Castro had to go babbling about the now not-so-secret plans because he has nothing better to do. Well suffice it so say we are going to shelve the whole operation for now. I don't think I would mind so much but I turned down an executive security contract in the Ukraine because I really thought the Venezuelan operation was the best opportunity. And then I tried to get back on the Ukraine job, but by that Yushenko had already hired an East German/Austrian team led by our old friend Clause Geissman. So now we are sitting with our proverbial dicks in the proverbial wind and I'm not sure what's next.

The days of playing industrial espionage in Cuba are pretty much over, and Mr. Castro should mind his own business and count bananas or whatever he does in his spare time. But these fellows in Cuba and North Korea are clamoring for global attention, and this is not good for business.

What a pathetic embrace between Mr. Chavez and Mr. Castro! The last time I saw something like that in Cuba, Fredo Corleone ended up getting whacked.

Latest Middle East Operation is Completed

2005-02-11T11:23:00.000-05:00

OK so I am resting in the states now after my extended action in the Middle East. And it is certainly nice to have regular access to a computer again, so I am going to try and pick things up where I left off.

A couple general comments on the situation in Iraq. First, when I went back to Iraq this time, I found things were much different than they were in 91. This time the Americans are "officially" in Iraq, and they really have been an "official" pain in the ass to me and my team. But I think most of the Americans mean well, although they are not as well educated as you may think and they make bad decisions under fire. I suppose I don't mind working with or around them so long as their interests do not conflict with mine.

And what a small world it is over there! I was working on an extraction for a team that had run into a bit of trouble working a security detail for a British unit in Basra and I bumped into a fellow I hadn't seen since Nha Trang 68 when we dynamited that Vietnamese dam!

So I am pleased to have some free time and shall keep updating this as time permits. For those of you that donated money for Sinjay's operation, I would like to thank you. As most of you know, Sinjay didn't pull through, but your thoughts and prayers made his last days as pleasant as possible and hopefully we shall get another run at those Chechen dogs.