John Hancocks

At around 7:00 PM on Monday at work, an order popped up out of the ticket printer. But this wasn't just any order it was special.

"Dunn, Jim." That is what it read at the top. We all gathered around the ticket. Could it be? Is THE Jimmy Dunn coming back to Joe's Pizza for a second day in a row? I was skeptical. I mean, Jim is a very common name. And Dunn, well, we are in New England, so theres plenty 'o' irishmen kickin' round these parts. But Budd and Joe both were sure that Jimmy has come back to enjoy our fine pizzas. Joe was then dispatched back to my house to pick up a copy of Funnyball, the one that Jimmy had so graciously given to me on the previous day. I had brought it home simply so I could refer to it for the forthcoming post that resulted from his first visit. I didn't realize he'd be coming back the very next day.

Joe arrives just minutes before Jimmy Dunn, with Funnyball in hand. We place it aside. Soon, Jimmy comes in, with children in tow. Who mated with this guy? He seems like kind of a goon.

I feel as though this is an accurate representation of Jimmy Dunn.

Anyways. He immediately singles me out. "Hey, its the yankees fan. Whats up?" I say, well, seeing how was was such a nice guy, and giving me a free copy of his book the previous day and all, I was wondering if it would be possible to get an autograph from the author. He's more than willing to oblige.

A classy move from a classy guy.

I shouldn't have expected anything better than that from a sox fan. Later while he's with his kids, trying to look all cool by trying to put down a Yankees fan, he asks me why theres no Yanks in the Home Run Derby. My reply was that there was only one or two bonafide candidates from the Yankees and that they probably decided to pass. Giambi is someone who is definitely a little more deserving than say, Lance Berkman, but the HR Derby is also a place for young guys to showcase their stuff. The oldest player in the Derby, Lance Berkman, just turned 30 this year, and most of the contestants were under 26. He then says something about Sox all-stars. Please. Mark Loretta? A whopping .306 avg? Unremarkable RBI numbers? 3 freakin HRs? As you can plainly see, according to my fantasy baseball league's scoring methods, Loretta isn't even top 10. And there are clearly 2 AL candidates that are ranked better than him that are everyday players (Ian Kinsler and Robinson Cano).

I own the guys with the yellow highlights.

And don't even get me started on Jason Varitek's paltry .233 average. Joe Mauer is better. Especially since he's batting almost .400. And while I will admit that your beloved Big Papi is an excellent hitter, he doesn't actually play a position. Seeing how there was no DH in this year's all star event, they should have picked the best FIRST BASEMAN, not DH who occasionally plays first only in interleague games. Justin Morneau should have started over Ortiz.

Ok, my rant is done. Point being, I didn't allow good old JD to try and put me in my place so he could impress his kids.

On a side note, I've been reading his book on the can. And I use the term "book" quite loosely here. Its not so much a book as it is a collection of random thoughts scribbled down on that yellow smelly paper thats really cheap to buy. There is no plot. No action. No protagonist. No insight. Just a bunch of pages of him trying to tell a Yankees suck joke in a different way. I'm gonna give this book my lowest rating ever. Seven thumbs up.

Star Struck

Today, July 9th, 2006, a minor celebrity of some notoriety in New England came to Joe's Pizza today. And it was pretty much the highlight of my day. Until I had another visitor. Which was also very nice, but not nearly as humorous as the first one.

It was just after opening time, roundabouts 11:15 AM, when a man wearing Oakley Thumps rolled into Joes.

Pretty sweet.....I know.

This fellow ordered a slice or two of some pizza, sat down, and proceeded to eat it while watching World Cup Live on TV. As he was getting ready to leave, Myself, my brother, and Hickey were just kinda hanging around the counter, being lazy, as always. It's pretty much the standard protocol for Joe's. Anyways, as I customarily do, I was wearing a very old, grey colored Yankees Hat.

It was very similar to this hat, but not so much brown as it was grey.

The man then asks, "What are you doing with that Yankee's Hat on?" It's a question I often receive, being a Yankees fan in Red Sox country.
"Wearin' it." I smugly reply. I'm trying to be a little condescending. Because quite frankly, with asshole Sox fans, you have to be. He asks if it bothers either my brother or Hickey, both of which reply, "no, not really." It should be noted here that Joe, while not explicitly a Yankees fan, absolutely hates the Red Sox and their fans. Hickey doesn't know anything about baseball. He thinks he does, but he doesn't. If I wanted to have a conversation about Post-Punk music, or Wrasslin, then Hickey is my Go 2 Guy. But when it comes to baseball, he's just friggin' retahded.

That's wrestling? I'm gonna let you draw your own conclusions here....

The man in the Thumps then says that he's got something for me, and that he'll be right back. He then goes out to his car, and comes back with a book. "Turn to page 50," he says with a grin, as he leaves the building. I'm thinkin to myself here, "is this nut job really just giving me this little book?" We open the book to Page 50. This is what we find.

Click to view a larger Image. It's pretty much just this guy pissing on Yankee Stadium.

We look out the window, and see him still sitting in his car, watching us through the window and laughing at us. He drives off. We then look at the cover of the book.



We realize that that guy was this guy. Jimmy Dunn. National comedian and Local television personality (for one paltry year) on NESN. Jimmy Dunn. I was a bit star struck once I found out who he was. Turns out he's so local that he's from the seacoast NH area. He use to pal around with local legend Chris Collins, a Joe's employee, and was a regular at the Hampton location. His book was published in Portsmouth. But I still have no idea who he really is. I've never seen any of his comedy, and chances are, I probably wont like it. You may have got me on this one Jimmy Dunn, but just you wait. You will get your comuppance. I have friends in high places. And by high places, I mean in the mountains. And they might be crazy. Or hippies. Or both.