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Over at our other blog – one that we've been shamefully ignoring since starting up No Rhubarb! - our blogpartner, the misnamed Mediocre Fred, has revealed his deep, dark secret.

He is a Mascot American. Apparently, he appeared as the monstrosity known as “Uncle Slam” for the Class A Potomac Nationals in a recent parade. Uncle Slam, an oversize blue-skinned approximation of Uncle Sam (one that, judging by the bright red nose, sure likes to hit the sauce), is – like all mascots – an abomination before all. As it is written in the Baseball Testament, Book of DiMaggio, chapter 3, verse 7: And the mascot shall come unto you, inflated of feature and furred of complexion, and yea they shall not be of baseball, but of shameless hucksterism, and you shall stone them until the mascot head collapses in. And you shall be not afraid, for the Louisville Slugger of the Gods of Baseball is at thy command.

It is written that we must “Love the sinner, hate the sin.” and we shall do so for our blogpartner.

But if we ever see that creepy blue thing coming at us, we shall show no mercy.


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