Hi, I'm Larry

Time for another rumor round-up. First, Gammons:

The comebacks of John Patterson, Tony Armas and Tomo Ohka have put the Washington Nationals at the point where they may be able to move a starting pitcher in a deal for a productive outfielder.

Then Rosenthal:

The Nationals, seeking another bat, could offer a package of first baseman Nick Johnson and outfielder Ryan Church. G.M. Jim Bowden doesn't want to trade pitching, and the team is growing increasingly impatient with Johnson.

This could wind up being an opportunity to decide once and for all who's king of the rumor-mongers. Gammons and Rosenthal agree that Bodes is after a hitter. Gammons says he wants to trade pitching, and Rosenthal directly contradicts him. So we'll see.

It's difficult to comment on these things without knowing whom Bowden's pursuing. Nick Johnson and Ryan Church are two of my favorite Nats, so we'd better be getting someone completely awesome in return if that one happens. But given Bowden's proclivities, he's probably after Raul Mondesi.

Remember that communist who didn't want fireworks at RFK because she hated America? The Examiner (hat tip to DCist) has further coverage of the whiny-ass denizens of Kingman Park. It's not just Roman candles and America they hate; concerts are out too. Because of the Klan.

Lisa Alfred, a resident of nearby Barney Circle, remembers a Grateful Dead concert in the early '90s when fans, apparently with harmless intent, left a few cardboard skeletons on neighborhood front yard fences.

"When people came home from work," she recalls, "there were all these skeletons. And if you live in a black neighborhood and you don't know about the Grateful Dead, who knows? You might think it was the Klan."

If you were a damn retard you might think that. Obviously, Lisa Alfred was annoyed that a pack of patchouli-smelling stoners left shit on her fence. But she wanted to put herself above criticism, so she busted out the race card. She's not a cranky idiot, she's scared of the Klan and their trademark dancing hippie skeletons! Well, I'm from the Internet, so I'm not afraid to call this woman a halfwit crybaby.

Of all Will Carroll's crimes, this may be the worst. The man has destroyed the meaning of the word "joke." My last post had the news that Will was moving his blog to a rural Indiana newspaper. But - get this - it was all a joke! Wait a minute . . . just saying something that's not true isn't a joke. If I introduce myself to someone and tell him my name's Larry, that's not a joke. Now, if I say "Hi, I'm Will Carroll, and this is my lovely wife Dayn," that's a joke. Shit, I think I'ma start doing that. That's comedy gold.