The Confessions of a Fly on the Wall (WBL 2010: The Annual Report)

Briggs Carney (WBL 2010 Awards Gala): “Can someone turn the house lights down? Thank you. Can someone light my cigar? Nice. Is the microphone working? Hello-hello…I can’t tell: Do ya want my body, do ya think I’m sexy, come on baby let me know. Yea, it’s working. I can hear my bee-u-ti-ful voice. Can someone freshen-up my little drink-drink for me before I get started?  Hay Buechel. You…yea you, Buechel. Yes you, jackass. Oh sorry, I forgot the mike was on—it wasn’t like you actually won though. Anyway, go get Sweet Papa a drink-drink. Next, let me just take a quick drag off my Cohiba and I’ll be golden… Whew, holy smokes, did somebody stuff that bad boy with wacky weed? Oh shit, I can’t feel my head. Oh shit, my mike is on. Oh shit, sorry, folks. Let me just kill this drink-drink. There, perfecto. Now, I’ll go ahead and get started, but Buechel baby, will you fill my glass again, Sweet Baby Jane? And is it too much to ask for a little less ice for chrissake. I’m not a damn Eskimo. Speaking of Yankees, is Nuck Reistad in the house? Turn up the house lights, please. Thank you. Is that Nuck giving me the finger? Right back at ya, bud. Turn the lights back down please—the sight of all yall hurts my eyes.

“Aaaa-hem, aaaa-hem, aaa-hemmy-hem-hem. Loogie warning: Stand clear!  Ahh-thwooeeey. Great Bertha, I’m sorry something that disgusting was holed-up inside me. However, I’m very happy, ladies and gentleman, than you cannot see the green gooey glob of foaming expectorant that has landed on the floor behind my lectern precariously close to my right show. But let’s get on with it—we’ve got a really big shoe, a really big shew, a really big shoo.

“Thanks for coming to the WBL 2010 Awards Night Gala, lady and gents, let’s get down to the brass tacks. By the way, does anyone know what that means, brass f----- tacks? Anyway, we have a great many awards to hand out, and, of course, we’ll be passing the plate throughout the evening. After all, this fried chicken ain’t free. Also, if all yall could limit yourself to either a wing and a leg, or one breast, but not both, it would be greatly appreciated. If Tank Crumley isn’t here yet, will someone make sure he gets the message about the limit on chicken when he arrives. Mike Edmonds too. I’ve seen those boys plow through a bucket of KFC plum solo. And unfortunately, ladies and gents,  there won’t be enough cold slaw for everyone, but that’s ok, because the slaw has soured slightly.

WBL Photos are posted!