Wowee Wowee Bing Bang!

Super Duper Willie here, writing to you in a continued state of inebriation from partying two nights ago. (This may be evident from the lineup I put out for Tuesday night's game.) We clinched our first NL East title since 1988! Mega cool! I hope you fans all celebrated heartily, just as I did. The night started off with champagne for my real friends (and real pain for my sham friends, just ask Angel Hernandez, who no longer has a gall bladder). The night continued with me, David Wright, Cliffy Baseball and Pedro Martinez heading off to my favorite place, the Carousel Club in Manhattan, on the West Side highway. As I purchased Pedro a lapdance from a hottie, he broke down in tears and ran off to the bathroom. I followed him in to ask what was wrong, and he told me that he has high expectations of being able to enjoy a lapdance properly, and that he just wasn't able to enjoy the lapdance like he thinks he should've been able to. I told him to relax, and that I would make sure he got many more lapdances so he could get back into shape. Our next stop was to the Papaya Hot Dog store place thingy on 42nd street and 9th avenue. I had five delicious hot dogs, and I dumped a big bucket of relish on David Wright's head, just to hear his adorable giggling. Anyway, long story short, I woke up in some chick's apartment and had to scramble back home. In my haste, I left my underwear there. I hope she doesn't use my man hairs to try to clone me. I don't need Willie 2 undercutting me in my contract renegotiations!

For some reason, Major League Baseball is making us play the rest of these games. I'm still looking for novel and innovative ways to fuse my love of fun and boozing with my boring dugout life. I'll keep thinking! Let's go Mets!