So some media queers are saying that the Boston Red Sox should hire me to play Designated Hitter for them.  I'm never one to sound desperate, but I would so fucking eat someone's children for that opportunity.

I'll confess, sitting around my tax-free Beverly Hills mansion with nothing to do isn't as amazingly cool as people think.  My wife won't return my calls and eHarmony says I'm only compatible with reptiles and Ann Coulter.  Even my own son is more interested in something called a "Wii" (I didn't ask) than entertaining his own Pops.

I even tried to call Willie Mays to shoot the shit, and someone who sounds a lot like him answered and said he was at baseball practice.  I thought he retired in like the 1970s or something.  Whatever, I ain't no fuckin' historian.

Point is, the Red Sox would be nuts not to sign me.  Here's why:

1. Boston is a racist town.  I'm a racist dude.  I told those grand-jury honkies that brothers gotta hold on to they cash:

...there's not too many rich black people in this world. And I'm keeping my money. There's more wealthy Asian people and Caucasian and white. There ain't that many rich black people. And I ain't giving my money up.

I know, I know, I once said I'd never go near you white-hood wearin' mother fuckers.  But there's nothing like 9 months without a paycheck to give a brother a change of heart.  So come on, Boston, you and I need to hold hands and hate the shit out of people together.

2. If Manny can be Manny, Barry can be Barry.  The Sox already got a crazy left-fielder who's prone to some unorthodox shit.  One time he caught a fly ball, high-fived a fan, and threw out a runner, all in one play.  What a coincidence!  I've always wanted to catch a fly-ball, shove an ice-cream cone into a fan's face, and throw out an old lady wheeling herself to the restroom on the concourse.

And finally...

3. I would love season tickets to the Celtics.  Face it.  I look awesome in green.