Saturday, June 22, 2013

The Small Ball Steroid League

Been propositioned lately?

Well, do I have an indecent proposal for you. It has to do with balls and sweat … and drugs … and cheating.

Asses getting whipped … and people getting screwed.

In other words, we’re discussing a few of your favorite things.

And not only that, but my idea solves a problem.

Just what the hell kind of problem would that be?

The use of performance improving substances, in sports.

And just how the hell is that a problem?

It’s no problem at all … if you’re on the juice, and winning. But if you’re squeaky-clean and losing, then you’re probably thinking the performance improving stuff is pretty un-fucking-fair.

It’s the same way those of us with natural hard-ons feel about the fake boner bozos popping pills to stiffen-up their otherwise limp noodles. Just leave the girls to us, guys … they want the real thing.

Which is exactly what we want in sports. But, in sports, the ‘real thing’ is the big show – a major spectacle. We tune in to see something we’ve never seen before.

That means more home runs … more baskets … more touchdowns … more speed. We want harder hits and harder competition than the last time, every time.

And it’s not fair to tie the athletes’ hands when they’re trying to bring us that.

I say, performance improving substances should take their rightful place in sport, right next to training hard, taking your vitamins, saying your prayers … fat contracts … and illegitimate children.

Because at the professional level, all sports are extreme sports. They don’t relate at all to what we weekend warrior amateurs do, except maybe the rules, and the balls.

That’s why I’m proposing a new league … a winners’ league … The Small Ball Steroid League.

We will eschew no drugs, and encourage anything that works. (We’re down with the Cold War era East Germans on this. No guts, no glory … comrades.)

All the other stuff, we’ll leave to the clean-weenies and purists. They can piss in cups all day long, for all we care.

Try not to spill any on you, okay guys?

If we do any drug testing at all, it will be to ensure that the athletes are taking them. This is the premier league, after all … we can’t have anyone slacking off.

Like mom always says, “You can’t push the envelope … on an empty syringe”. Words to live by.

And judging by mom’s squared-off, whiskered jaw – and weightlifting titles – she knows whereof she speaks.

Records are made to be broken, and we’re out to smash the shit out of them.

Allow me to clarify one thing, though: I’m not talking about drug abuse, here. Taking drugs is what drugs are for. Letting them collect dust on a shelf is drug abuse.

There will be none of that in The Small Ball Steroid League.

Besides the unabashed use of anything and everything that increases athletic performance, the League will have some other interesting features, beginning with the selection of sport the League will be sanctioning.

And which sport will that be?

All of them.

Well, there I may have exaggerated a bit. I meant to say ... most of them.

The Small Ball Steroid League will be multi-sport. That is, it will include any sport where a juice-head athlete is at an advantage.

Obviously, such high profile sports as baseball, football, track and field, and cycling have been dominated by drug-improved athletes for decades, their locker rooms long populated with raisin-like deflated testicles, and skin you’d need a moon rover to cross. Not to mention, men who are sopranos, and manly women who sound like Barry White.

They’re all included.

But the League is not stopping there; we’re going to reach out to some other sports that could use some toughening up, too.

Like chess. Yes, chess. That nerd on the other side of the board is really going to think twice about beating your stupid ass if he thinks your ‘roid rage is going to pop him in the nose if he does. What do you think of that, genius?

And then there’s fishing. Sport fisherman are just biting for performance improving substances. You can never have too much muscle when you’re trying to wrestle Jaws into the fucking boat. I know that fishing already has its traditional performance enhancements – usually alcohol based – but there’s also the Popeye tradition. You see, on camera, he ate spinach, and then laid the smackdown. But unseen, off-camera, was a stage hand, jabbing the hot needle into Popeye’s bony butt. And while it must be acknowledged that Popeye was a sailor-man, and not a fisher-man, kicking ass on a boat is kicking ass on a boat. Just ask the Navy.

How about golf? Those golfers could sure use some help – they can’t even carry their own shit! Most of them look like they’re going to drop dead before they even hit the caddy shack. Our Small Ball Steroid League golfers will be able to hit the greens pulling a train of golf carts with a rope, à la World’s Strongest Man competition, and fire their balls off the tee with the oomph of a freakin’ Howitzer. (Their ‘golf’ balls, that is.)

Horse racing would be a good candidate for inclusion. I know … I know … they’ve been injecting horses with shit for years. I’m talking about the riders. I understand that conventional wisdom dictates jockeys should be small and light, so bigger, stronger riders would be counterproductive. But my unconventional wisdom says that if a jacked jockey could jump off his racing horse and give him a big turbo-push … well, that would be productive as a fuck.

And then, there’s motorsports. I can definitely see a place for ‘roid rage in sports where you drive stuff. Those guys (and girls) are already aggressive, as it is. But with a little extra chemical shot in the ass? We’ll be looking at Deathrace 2000, all season long. Now that’s putting on a show!

As an aside, I always thought it would be fun if the NASCAR drivers were required to drink a six pack and smoke a joint at each pit stop. Wait - this is NASCAR – better make it moonshine and crystal meth.

Which brings me to my my final point. We all know, a good many of these warriors party just as hard off the field, as they play on the field. And when you add performance improving substances, to the recreation improving substances … the resulting crazy shit is going to be tabloid gold.

Which happens to be as good as gold for promotional purposes – which in turn, happens to fit very nicely into the League’s business model.

So, when you’re looking for unlimited sports performance, look to the The Small Ball Steroid League. We will, we will, rock you.

Wait – I almost forgot to mention … a special branch of our operation … for those without any balls. Ladies, this means you.

Because sometimes it’s not appropriate for female athletes to play with the men. Play sports with the men, I mean.

For those situations, the juiced-up jezebels need a division of their own.

We’ll call theirs The Enlarged Clitoris and Adam’s Apple League - where their square, stubbly jaws and manly muscles will be celebrated, and they’ll no longer need to endure embarrassing medical examinations of their horse-hung ticklebuttons, to confirm they don’t end at a peehole.

Sexual verification is such a degrading hoop to have to jump through … and we’ll be jumping through it no more.

Unless they want to be examined; I’m sure we’ll be able to scrape up some curious volunteers somewhere.

And that’s it, folks. Big numbers … big contracts … malformed genitalia … it’s The Small Ball Steroid League!

Join the movement – check your local listings for schedule and availability.

-Harlowe Pilgrim

PS. Is that a pickle in your panties, or are you just happy to see me?

Copyright 2013 Cock and Bull Publishing, LLC


Harlowe Pilgrim’s books are available at Amazon, iBooksSmashwords.com, Books-A-Million, and most other online booksellers.

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Santa and Mrs. Claus Interview, with Harlowe Pilgrim


Hello, this is Harlowe Pilgrim.

When my novel Jesus Vs. Santa wrapped, I conducted a series of interviews with some of its biggest players. The following is my interview with Santa and Mrs. Claus (also known as Kris and Jessica Kringle).

Pilgrim: Santa Claus and Mrs. Claus!  Welcome, it’s good to see you. Ho Ho Ho!

Santa: Ho Ho Ho! I think you stole my line there, Harlowe.

Pilgrim: Well, I’ve written it so many times ...

Mrs. Claus: I’ll say! Jesus Vs. Santa is full of Ho Ho Ho’s!

Santa: Full of Ho’s? Ho Ho Ho!

Pilgrim: (laughs) I think you mean …

Mrs. Claus: Yeah, the laughing kind of Ho Ho Ho’s—not the skanky streetwalking kind.

Pilgrim: I’m glad we got that straightened out.

Santa: Yeah, I thought I missed something there, for a minute. I was just about to re-read the book!

Pilgrim: Maybe you should—Jesus told me he edited a few things.

Mrs. Claus: He did?

Santa: Then I’m probably not reading it again. If he’s been fucking around with it, I probably don’t want to know how.

Mrs. Claus: Agreed. He probably doesn’t.

Pilgrim: So … now that you’re book stars, is life treating you any differently?

Santa: Don’t forget kid, we’ve appeared in lots of books over the years. But I have to say, ever since we appeared in Jesus Vs. Santa, my wife is sure getting a lot more interview requests. And requests for photo shoots. And video shoots. The adults only media seems particularly interested, for some reason.

Mrs. Claus: He says you made me a sex symbol, Harlowe.

Pilgrim: Whoa, that’s giving me a whole lot of credit I don’t deserve. At most, I helped expose you as a sex symbol.

Santa: That’s fair enough.

Pilgrim: I’d like to know how the world ever got the impression she was the old, grandmotherly type anyhow.

Mrs. Claus: I think it was all those other books, and the TV specials and things. I have tended to keep kind of a low profile over the years, so I bet they just went ahead and gave me an appearance that was age appropriate for Santa.

Santa: Age appropriate for Santa? Ho Ho Ho! That’s …

Mrs. Claus: Ridiculous, we know.

Pilgrim: That is not how Santa rolls.

Santa: Ho Ho Ho! Not so long as I can help it! I think I’ll stick with hot blondes.

Mrs. Claus: Ahem.

Santa: Hot blonde. That’s what I meant to say, Jessica Kringle.

Pilgrim: (laughs) So how about you, Santa? Has the book made you a sex symbol?

Santa: I’ve always been a sex symbol, Ho Ho Ho!

Mrs. Claus: Yeah, to himself. I doubt his sex symbol-ness has occurred to anyone else, though.

Santa: What do you mean? What woman wouldn’t want a piece of this?

Mrs. Claus: Um … most of them, besides me?

Pilgrim: (laughs) What a thing to say.

Santa: Ho Ho Ho! Yeah, ouch—that kind of hurt.

Mrs. Claus: Now, wouldn’t it be more cruel of me to foster your delusions?

Santa: Damn … now I’m delusional, too. Maybe fostering my delusions would be a little nicer.

Pilgrim: I find you sexy, Santa. If that makes you feel any better …

Santa: I hope you understand, it really doesn’t.

Mrs. Claus: I’m mostly kidding anyways, you nut.

Pilgrim: (laughs) I thought we all were.

Santa: Ho Ho Ho! Of course … I … was just kidding … the whole fucking time.

Pilgrim: We knew that.

Santa: Wait—so don’t really find me sexy, Harlowe?

Mrs. Claus: Ahem …

Pilgrim: Yes, well, moving right along …

Santa: Hey—are you two just trying to change the …?

Mrs. Claus: Subject? Who, us?

Pilgrim: Santa, we’re trying nothing of the sort. Frankly, I’m a little insulted. So, how about them elves?

Santa: The elves? What about them?

Pilgrim: They seem kind of … well, short, for starters.

Mrs. Claus: Yes. They’re elves.

Santa: Yup. That’s the stereotype—tiny little elves. That’s why they appear so small in the book.

Pilgrim: Aren’t they always that small?

Santa: Nope. Jesus Vs. Santa is chocked full of special effects, and those little buggers are one of ‘em.

Mrs. Claus: Kris

Pilgrim: You mean to tell me and our audience that the elves were only small for the book?

Santa: Yup. It was all just book movie magic.

Mrs. Claus: Really, Kris

Santa: It’s true. In real life, we’ve got some elves as tall as pro basketball players. And they can dunk with the best of them.

Pilgrim: Really? I had no …

Santa: Nah, not really, Ho Ho Ho! I was just fucking with you.

Pilgrim: Aw, you were?

Mrs. Claus: You took the bait, Harlowe.

Santa: You sure did, Ho Ho Ho! Sink, line, and hooker.

Pilgrim: Isn’t the phrase, ‘hook, line, and sinker’?

Santa: Well, maybe it is, but good luck getting a sinker to turn tricks for cash!

Mrs. Claus: Can’t say I didn’t see that one coming.

Santa: Which one coming? The hooker? Ho Ho Ho! Then she shouldn’t get money too, should she?

Pilgrim: Not really sure how that works, Santa.

Santa: You know who I ask all my whore questions, don’t you?

Mrs. Claus: Oh no …

Santa: Ho Ho Ho! That’s right—our little friend, Mary Magdalene.

Pilgrim: Mrs. Jesus Christ.

Mrs. Claus: I feel so bad when you guys rag on Mary for all the prostitute bullshit.

Santa: Come on, honey. We tease because we love.

Pilgrim: She seems to take it okay. And she gives as good as she gets, from what I’ve seen.

Santa: Not only that, but Jesus thinks it’s funny. How bad could it be, if the Prince of Peace is okay with it?

Mrs. Claus: You of all people should know the answer to that, Kris.

Pilgrim: That’s a hell of a point, actually. Don’t you remember the shit that happened in Jesus Vs. Santa? Maybe you should re-read the book.

Santa: Yeah, well some of that was kind of troubling … and unpleasant, but … Ho Ho Ho! A joke’s still a joke, right?

Pilgrim: (laughs) Yeah, I guess it is.

Mrs. Claus: (sighs) You guys are something else.

Santa: You are too, sweetie pie.

Pilgrim: Aw, shucks.

Santa: Ho Ho Ho! I did not call you ‘sweetie pie’, kid. But I could go for some.

Mrs. Claus: Always.

Pilgrim: Well, on that note, I guess I’ll let you guys go. Thank you so much for coming in.

Santa: You’re welcome. Coming in was our pleasure.

Mrs. Claus: You’re such a pig, Kris. Bye Harlowe.

Pilgrim: Goodbye, guys.


-Harlowe Pilgrim

Copyright 2012 Cock and Bull Publishing, LLC

This piece appears in the ebook Harlowe Pilgrim's Oh My Words! 2012


Harlowe Pilgrim’s books are available at Amazon, iBooksSmashwords.com, Books-A-Million, and most other online booksellers.