Ah, June. Stats and standings have settled. At least a quarter of your league has given up. Hot dogs, school’s out, the beach, and Father’s Day. I myself was raised by a baboon troop in a controversial experiment at Stanford. Therefore, Father’s Day is less about cookouts and ties and more about giving thanks that I didn’t fall victim to competitive infanticide. Thanks, pops, for not letting that rival male kill me. Here’s a gift card to Home Depot and some figs. *Eats gift card, hurls figs at my head* Damn you and your primatology Sapolsky! I want a real father! Anyhoo, here’s a list of prospects I think will get called up in June. It’s not exhaustive, but definitely exhausting.
Please, blog, may I have some more?