ROCKVILLE (UPI) - In what has become the annual highlight of owner Raymond Bradley's fantasy baseball season, his team, the Amish Rave Four Play, have announced the coaching staff for their 2009 season.
"For years, I have stepped up to the dais and announced the names of the men who will lead this team - my team - to fantasy glory," began Bradley. "Notice the key word in that sentence. 'Men.' I have yet to have any shred of success in getting men to run my team."
"This year, I have decided we don't need men running the Amish Rave," said Bradley. We need stars. PORN STARS to be exact!"
At that point, the curtain behind Bradley was opened to reveal a bunch of exceedingly naked people, many of them surgically enhanced to look almost buoyant.
"That's right, America, I'm bring porn back into the mainstream, and what's more mainstream than baseball?" Bradley asked.
One member of the press spoke up and answered "Um, our country's military heroes?"
"That was a rhetorical question, you yak-breeder," Bradley replied. "There's nothing more American than baseball other than porn! We make more porn in the US by 9 AM than most countries do ALL DAY! And all sorts of porn, too, from bored married couples looking to spice things up in the bedroom after 15 years of unsatisfying missionary position sex; from big-budget productions taking place on soundstages with all sorts of unnecessary plot, dialog and costumes; to back-alley sex dungeons in New York offering free streaming web cams of S&M sessions; to naive college girls on Spring Break and the horny 30 year old men who trick them into thinking that showing their boobs for "Girls Gone Wild" is "empowering to women"; to those Iowan strippers in seedy clubs outside of Council Bluffs looking to score a couple of extra bucks with a passing truck driver; from beach bunnies in Miami Beach who enjoy rubbing their firm and possibly-fake breasts on other beach bunnies from Miami Beach and the men who take pictures of them with their camera phones; to all the women who have bought double-headed dildos, video cameras, and who have a dream; and to all the scores of pretty but untalented wanna-be actresses in Southern California who give better anal than they do auditions and who really, REALLY need the rent money and didn't have a fall-back plan; I salute them all!" extolled Bradley, his voice strong, and, in this author's opinion, almost Obama-like in his diction, eloquence and mannerism.
Another member of the press corps, a large, muscular, tanned men who refused to be identified as anything other than "Arod from the New York Yank...I mean Post," asked "Mr. Bradley, I noticed during your speech that at no time did you mention any homosexual men, perhaps the largest audience of porn and a potentially big demographic for your team. How do you respond?"
Bradley calmly put his hands over his ears, and said "blah blah blah blah I can't hear you gay porn ewwwww blah blah blah."
The eloquence had left the building.
Bradley continued with his announcement, as two of the surgically-enhanced women behind him began to grind seductively against each other, causing visible anxiety amongst the members of the press who had gathered at the White Flint Mall for this announcement, except, amazingly, the man known as "Arod."
"This year's coaching staff needs really a minimal introduction. To my right, you've seen him in pornos since the 1970s, and wondered if an ugly, hairy bastard like that can get laid, surely I can too, the Amish Rave Four Play's hitting coach, Ron "the Hedgehog" Jeremy!" exclaimed Bradley, to a smattering of claps and a rousing round of applause from Mr. Arod.
Jeremy took the dais and said "I know *I* can suck myself off; I've now got to teach the Rave *NOT* to suck!"
Bradley went back to the dais, and sprayed the microphone down with Lysol and a Handi-Wipe, and continued with the press conference.
"Our strength and conditioning coach is a legend in the porn world. He too has been banging the hell outta sluts since the golden age of smut, but, has stayed in such incredible shape that he's a natural for the Amish Rave, Mr. Peter North!" said Bradley, again to a bit more clapping and a positively embarrassing display of whooping and hollering from Mr. Arod.
"Thank you for this opportunity," said North. "Do any of you know the muscle discipline it takes to do a reverse pile-driver into the gaping anus of a 19 year old girl from El Segundo? No? I do, and, it's a lot. I hope I can pass on this knowledge to the Amish Rave."
Bradley then went to shake North's hand, but found it to be gooey, and passed on the attempt. Bradley then said that he "...initially approached Jeff Stryker to see if he wanted a position on this team..." but was interrupted when Mr. Arod started cheering in Spanish and waved his shirt around like a drunk coal miner spun a Terrible Towel after the Pittsburgh Steelers got some complete B.S. calls against the Ravens in the NFL in 2008, but, this author digresses.
Bradley then completed his sentence "but the only position he wanted on this team was a sixty-nine!!!" which, at that point, made Mr. Arod ejaculate, and not in the old-fashioned nineteenth century version of the word, meaning "to exclaim," but in the 8th grade health class version of the word, meaning "to blow choad all over the poor dude in front of him." Yes, Arod came all over the back of another member of the press corps at mere mention of bisexual porn star Jeff Stryker. I want you all to think about that.
After a fifteen minute delay as the Rave's groundscrew cleaned up Arod's baby batter from the floor around him, Arod went outside to smoke a clove cigarette, and the guy in front of Arod who took the lion's share of the load to the back of the head went to the locker room to take a shower and ask himself questions, alone, in the shower stall, Bradley continued the press conference.
"Our bullpen is either a source of pain or of joy, depending on the season," said Bradley. "Often, the Rave's bullpen pitchers are not ready to come into the games like they should be, and really drive it home. So, our bullpen coach in 2009 is former Vivid Video fluffer and porn star in her own right, Mary Carey!"
Mary Carey approached the microphone, and promptly swallowed it, which drew many cheers and gasps from the audience.
Mr. Arod booed, for the record.
Without a microphone, the press conference looked lost, but thanks to the quick thinking of Peter North and Ron Jeremy, they immediately gave Ms. Carey a modified version of the Heimlich Maneuver, this one without pants and utilizing a lot more penetration than customary. Within minutes, Mary Carey had faked two orgasms and coughed up the microphone.
"As many of you know, the hard part - heh, I said 'hard' - with this team each year is coming up with a good coach and general manager combination. Few combinations had the panache, the joie de vie, the je nais sais quoi, the deja vu, the comme si, comme ca, the voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir and other assorted French phrases like Wade Boggs and John Kruk did during their time with the Rave. So this year, I was really looking to recapture that chemistry. I thought Weird Al was going to bring it for me a couple of years ago. And those other guys who I can't recall....they didn't work out too well either. I went for a couple who I thought extolled grace, the spirit of fun, and the complete lack of sobriety needed to run the Rave. This years' General Manager is the star of suck films - heh, I said 'suck' - I mean, SUCH films as "Cum Buckets! 3" and "Grand Theft Anal 9" Miss Jenna Haze!"
Ms. Haze approached the dais to much cheering and whistling from the press corps, shaking her hips from side to side, clad in a Catholic school girl's uniform with fishnets, a garter belt and a set of handcuffs. Once again, the only man not applauding was Mr. Arod, who was buried in his Blackberry, texting to somebody listed as "M.Donna." Ms. Haze took the Mary Carey-soaked microphone in her hands, and started to slowly lick the shaft.
"I want to make the Rave the hardest team to beat in the league!" exclaimed Jenna as she smacked the microphone against the side of her face.
Bradley reapproached the podium, and slipped Ms. Haze his cell phone number, saying something about "any late night personnel decisions."
"The manager this year is former hardcore star and current mistress and fetish queen Taylor St. Clair. She's got the experience and dominant personality this team needs," explained Bradley.
Taylor took the stage wearing more leather than a biker bar in Sturgis and showing more tit than the San Diego Chargers' cheerleaders.
"We will WIN or I will WHIP THEM!" said St. Clair forcefully. She smacked her whip against the podium, turned around, and gave Bradley a quick squeeze on the butt. She whispered "thanks for the job" into his ear.
At that point, Mr. Bradley called over his groundscrew to clean up around him. Bradley stammered out "Press conference is about to be over. Um, Ms. Haze, can you announce our keepers this year for me?" Bradley asked while trying to hide a massive erection.
Jenna said "OK, here's who we want...badly."
Daisuke Matsuzaka sounds dirty enough on its own
Brandon Webb - too good to mess with
and possibly David Labia Murphy in case anybody gets hurt.