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?

