Tim McG

I seriously cannot believe you said that. Why? Did you bother to read the article? It states two things as being established facts among those who study these matters: Steroids help you hit home runs. HGH doesn't. The fact that players have conspired to attain HGH has no bearing on whether or not it will help. It only shows how players are driven to try to anything they can get their hands on when the biggest star in the game is well known to be an abuser of these chemicals. After all, Bonds took such drugs as Clomid, a women's infertility drug thought to help a steroid user recover his natural testosterone production, and Modafinil, a narcolepsy drug used as a powerful stimulant. Does a woman's infertility drug help you hit homers? Probably not. Does a narcolepsy drug help you hit homers? Probably not. Yet the home run "king" used them, and it shouldn't surprise anyone if it turns out that other players used them too. I simply cannot believe you said that, Dan. Mr. Anti-Steriods swings and misses on a strike three count with the bases loaded. I can die now....I've seen everything.

I said "starange" as did you, knucklehead. Hey! That's Mister Knucklehead to you......and smile when you say that.

An Eastern Montana cowboy was tending his herd in a remote pasture when suddenly a brand-new BMW advanced out of a dust cloud towards him. The driver, a young man in a Brioni suit, Gucci shoes, Ray Ban sunglasses and YSL tie, leans out the window and asks the cowboy, "If I tell you exactly how many cows and calves you have in your herd, will you give me a calf?" The cowboy looks at the man, obviously a yuppie, then looks at his peacefully grazing herd and calmly answers, "Sure, Why not?" The yuppie parks his car, whips out his Dell notebook computer, connects it to his AT&T cell phone, and surfs to a NASA page on the Internet, where he calls up a GPS satellite navigation system to get an exact fix on his location which he then feeds to another NASA satellite that scans the area in an ultra-high-resolution photo. The young man then opens the digital photo in Adobe Photoshop and exports it to an image processing facility in Hamburg, Germany. Within seconds, he receives an email on his Palm Pilot that the image has been processed and the data stored. He then accesses a MS-SQL database through an ODBC connected Excel spreadsheet with email on his Blackberry and, after a few minutes, receives a response. Finally, he prints out a full-color, 150-page report on his hi-tech, miniaturized HP LaserJet printer and finally turns to the cowboy and says, "You have exactly 1586 cows and calves." "That's right. Well, I guess you can take one of my calves," says the cowboy. He watches the young man select one of the animals and looks on amused as the young man stuffs it into the trunk o f his car. Then the cowboy says to the young man, "Hey, if I can tell you exactly what your business is, will you give me back my calf?" The young man thinks about it for a second and then says, "Okay, why not?" "You're a consultant for the government." says the cowboy. "Wow! That's correct," says the yuppie, "but how did you guess that?" "No guessing required" answered the cowboy. "You showed up here even though nobody called you; you want to get paid for an answer I already knew, to a question I never asked; and you don't know anything about my business." "Now give me back my dog."

A woman brought a very limp duck into a veterinary surgery. As she lay her pet on the table, the vet pulled out his stethoscope and listened to the bird's chest. After a moment or two, the vet shook his head sadly and said, "I'm so sorry, Cuddles has passed away." The distressed owner wailed, "Are you sure?!?" "Yes, I am sure. The duck is dead," he replied. "How can you be so sure," she protested. "I mean, you haven't done any testing on him or anything. He might just be in a coma or something." The vet rolled his eyes, turned around and left the room, and returned a few moments later with a black Labrador Retriever. As the duck's owner looked on in amazement, the dog stood on his hind legs, put his front paws on the examination table and sniffed the duck from top to bottom. He then looked at the vet with sad eyes and shook his head. The vet patted the dog and took it out, and returned a few moments later with a beautiful cat. The cat jumped up on the table and also sniffed delicately at the bird. The cat sat back on its haunches, shook its head, meowed softly and strolled out of the room. The vet looked at the woman and said, "I'm sorry, but as I said, this is most definitely, 100% certifiably, a dead duck." Then the vet turned to his computer terminal, hit a few keys and produced a bill which he handed to the woman. The duck's owner, still in shock, took the bill. "$150!", she cried, "$150 just to tell me my duck is dead?!!" The vet shrugged. "I'm sorry. If you'd taken my word for it, the bill would have been only $20, but what with the Lab Report and the Cat Scan...."

Hey! Niners are 2-0 and in first place. This is the most fun I've had as a 49er fan since, uh...since, um...well, it's been a whole lotta fun this season!

A rabbi, a priest and a minister got together for lunch once a week. One day, one made the comment that preaching to people wasn't really all that hard. A real challenge would be to preach to a bear. One thing led to another, and they decided to do an experiment. They would all go out into the woods, find a bear, preach to it, and attempt to convert it. Seven days later, they all got together to discuss the experience. Father Flannery went first. His arm was in a sling, he was using crutches to walk, and his arms and legs were heavily bandaged. "Well," he said, "I went into the woods to find me a bear. And when I found him I began to read to him from the Catechism. Well, that bear wanted nothing to do with me and began to slap me around. So I quickly grabbed my holy water, sprinkled him and, Holy Mary Mother of God, he became as gentle a lamb. The bishop is coming out next week to give him first communion and confirmation." Reverend Billy Bob spoke next. He was in a wheelchair, with an arm and both legs in casts, and an IV drip. In his best fire and brimstone oratory he claimed, "WELL brothers, you KNOW that we don't sprinkle! I went out and I FOUND me a bear. And then I began to READ to my bear from God's HOLY WORD! But that bear wanted nothing to do with me. So I took HOLD of him and we began to wrestle. We wrestled DOWN one hill, UP another and DOWN another until we came to a creek. So, fast as I could, I DUNKED him and BAPTIZED his hairy soul. And just like you said, he became as gentle as a lamb. We spent the rest of the day PRAISING Jesus." They both looked down at Rabbi Goldberg, who was lying in a hospital bed. He was in a body cast and traction with IVs and monitors running in and out of him. He was in bad shape. The rabbi looked up and said, "Looking back on it, circumcision might not have been the best way to start."

Jesus and Moses were out golfing one day and they came upon a Par 3 hole with a lake in front of the green. Moses took out an 8-Iron and put his ball on the green a foot from the hole. Jesus turned to Moses and said, "You know, I've seen Arnold Palmer use a 9-Iron to reach this green time after time." So, Jesus takes out his 9-Iron and hits his ball right into the middle of the lake. Jesus then walked out on the water to retrieve his ball from the lake, comes back to the tee and takes out his 9-Iron again. Seeing this, Moses says to Jesus, "Maybe you need to go with an 8-Iron here." No, no, no!" said Jesus. "Arnold Palmer always uses a 9-Iron to reach this green." So Jesus hits his ball....right back into the middle of the lake. As Jesus is walking out on the water again to retrieve his ball, the group behind them walks up to the tee box. One of the gentlemen in the group approaches Moses and asks, "Just who does that guy think he is...Jesus Christ?" "No" Moses answered, "Arnold Palmer."

A man staggered into a hospital with a concussion, multiple bruises, two black eyes and a 5-iron wrapped tightly around his throat. Naturally, the doctor asked him what happened. "Well," the man said, "I was playing a quiet round of golf with my wife when we both sliced our balls into a cow pasture. While we were looking for the balls, I noticed one of the cows had something white in its rear end. I walked over, lifted its tail, and sure enough, there was a golf ball with my wife's monogram on it stuck right in the middle of the cow's butt hole. Still holding the cow's tail up, I yelled to my wife 'Honey, this looks like yours!' "I don't remember much after that."

But don't tell my wife....she's a die hard Pats fan.

Film at eleven........ LOL I read this post and about sprayed the screen with my drink.

Har. And there isn't.

Sarcasm, Dan. Smartass here, remember?

HGHs don't?

Why do chicken coops have two doors? Because if they had four doors they would be called chicken sedans.

Strange? No. Appropriate? Yes.

Rick Ankiel, the HGH Boy. Where is the public outcry vs. his baseball stats? Answer: Rick isn't Black.

I patiently await your new-Dan, non-beligerent reply.

Rick Ankiel, Dan.... Steroids make you break HR records, but HGH's [Human Growth Hormones] don't. Now isn't that interesting. Nice. A starange crop of hypocrites we're growing this year, eh.....?

Clear proof that professional athletes are not necessarily the brightest bulb in the stadium. Or the sharpest knife in the drawer. Hm.

I seriously cannot believe you said that.

The ball went for over $750,000 bucks.

The above has to be the worst letter about baseball that you have ever written. Only the supremely ignorant baseball neophyte expresses himself in that fashion. I'm not even going to take it apart piece by piece, just chalk it up to an aberration on your part. I'll add one thing. You'll never see me belittle a team's accomplishment(s) by chalking it up to "luck". I'm going to try to be gentle here, so I'll just say "Whatever". Then I will go on to repeat that the likelihood of those two pitchers going homer, homer, walk, double, single, double, single are infinitesimal. In fact, they are even smaller than I had previously presumed. When the supremely unlikely occurs, how else can it be described but as "luck"? Okajima's batting average against (lefties) is .235. He's allowed 17 walks in facing 265 batters - the likelihood of a walk is .064. Papelbon's BAA (righties) is .212. Against lefties it is .094. So, the odds are simply calculated like this: .235 X .235 X .064 X .235 (for Okajima's string) .212 X .094 X .212 (for Papelbon) The likelihood of that string of events is .... wait for it 0.0000034 If the same situation were repeated 10 MILLION TIMES, the Yankees would take the lead in the manner they did all of 34 times. And furthermore, this calculation over-estimates the likelihood because the first two hits off of Okajima were home runs, and he had allowed four home runs in 265 opponent's plate appearances. So taking that into consideration .... Well, suffice it to say that my calculator does not go out far enough for that calculation. So let's just leave it at what we have: The Yankees would duplicate their remarkable, un-aided by luck accomplishment in the same way 34 times in ten million attempts. Nope, not a smidgen of luck involved at all. "I'm going to try to be gentle here..." The NEW Dan. What a great day...I never thought possible.

How many people have same name as you? GoodSpeak? None. Absolute. I own it. My given name: Tim. A few good men.

A man had been on an island for 10 years, is sitting out on the beach when a beautiful woman wearing a wet suit and scuba gear suddenly emerges from the surf. She approaches the stunned guy and asks, "How long has it been since you've had a cigarette?" "Ten years!" he says. She unzips a waterproof pocket and pulls out a fresh pack of cigarettes. He takes one, lights it, takes a long drag and says, "Oh, that's good!" Then the woman asks, "How long has it been since you've had a drink?" Trembling, the man says, "Ten long years!" The woman unzips her water proof pocket on her left sleeve, pulls out a flask and gives it to him. The man takes a long swig and says, "Man, that's sweet!" The woman then starts slowly unzipping the front of her wet suit, looks at him seductively and asks, "And how long has it been since you've played around?" The man, with tears in his eyes, replies, "Oh sweet mother of God! "Don't tell me you've got golf clubs in there!"