Much like a newly married female, the Blue Jays have dropped BJ from the active roster.  Imagine this scenario.  You walk into your fro-yo distribution job, say what’s up to your TCBY manager who’s twelve years younger than you, open up the jimmies container and proceed to flip them, one at a time, at your manager’s head.  Timothy asks you politely to stop.  You politely give him a wedgie.  Naturally, he fires you.  Then you collect your salary for the next year.  Man, the life of a terrible baseball player may be better than the life of a marginal one who has to play every day.  B.J.

Please, blog, may I have some more?