Speed Read: Washing Our Hands of the Swine Flu

The discerning reader prefers the news (and most foods) wrapped in bacon and liberally salted with panic. Therefore, we provide your Thursday morning sports-centric swine flu stories to better arm you at the water cooler to pass along the latest gossip mumbled through your faux designer mask:

Swine flu (or pigs fly)

Whew. That’s a lot of abject terror sensible precaution for one morning. Please add any additional sports-related swine flu stories to the comments below so the few remaining survivors have a record of these final days.

Thankfully, our few remaining moments left as a functional species can be well-represented by the following people tellin’ it like it is and keepin’ it real with the kids, assuming your kids take Don Rickles’ routine at face value:

Geno Auriemma

Fire truck at Comerica Park

(Emergency vehicle sized appropriately to emergency)

Finally, a false alarm (possibly a fire alarm) in the eighth inning could not shake the New York Yankees from barely holding onto a 8-6 lead at Comerica Park over the Detroit Tigers last night despite holding a 7-1 advantage late in the contest. As Joe Girardi put it, “In this day and age, that’s a little scary.”

Heck, Joe … in this day and age, what isn’t?

And now a hail of bullet points caused by two heroin-slingin’ senior citizen sisters (though you can’t fault them for looking for a new retirement plan these days) …

What’s your favorite pandemic?

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Want to Impress People? Borrow Part of the Cubs!

Hey, skinny! Your portfolio is showing! Your pathetic $25-50 million in complicated financial transactions or ferreted away in Caribbean locales to avoid taxes doesn’t impress the women at North Avenue Beach in Chicago. They can’t see your rippling six-pack of bonds because of the Bonds-like six pack on the fellows around you.

Don’t you worry, though; Tom Ricketts can make you a new man, too, for fifteen years! The winner of the Chicago Cubs sweepstakes can’t quite bear the thought of 10% (or worse) interest on loans required to buy the team, so he’s reaching out to you to invest in the team for fifteen years.

John Henry, Linda Pizzuti, and Charles Atlas

(Sorry, Charles Atlas; ladies love cool John Henry)

You get to say you’re an owner, secure front row seats at Wrigley, claim face time with players who don’t know you from Don Rickles, and gather with other rich people who fall for the same gag share in the wealth of Cubs ownership to chat about the direction of the team.

You don’t get a vote, of course. You also have to give your ownership slice back after fifteen years and make zero money on the increased value of the team. Frankly, you’re an investment tourist gambling that the economy will blow through 2024. But rich socialite women go for your type; just ask Red Sox principal owner John Henry’s fiancĂ©e!

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