Style Points

We occasionally get emails from professional athletes.  It’s usually cease and desist letters but it’s correspondence none the less.  Well, we got one yesterday that takes the cake.  In fact, we should simply retire the account and start a new one.  Darren Daulton,  former Philadelphia Phillies catcher and intergalactic traveler sent us a mind-boggling note from…the future?

From:  Darren Daulton

Sent:  08/39/70

To:  stylepointsblog@gmail.com

Dear Sentient Beings,

I hope your 38th of August was as exciting as mine.  I celebrated the Romulans Independence Day like I always do, with an elaborate phaser show set to the music of Warmplay fronted by Apple Martin.  It was really intense.  The people who live in the pod next door called the Ministry of Enforcement on me.  Fuckin’ laser haters.

Anyway, I’ve been enjoying my time coaching the Montreal Screwjobs (or as some people call them, the old Washington Nationals).  We are only 2 matches out of first and if we get our best pitching prospect from AAAAA Nebular back into the solar system before September (3 more weeks) then I like our chances.

The only thing I don’t like about the gig is the uniforms.  It’s one thing to wear your jockstrap on the outside of the uniform but putting the phaser holster under the right arm when almost every one is right-handed is inexcusable.

The road trips are a nightmare.   First, the psychological monitoring you have to undergo just to go play an overnighter on Mars is strenuous.  Second, the in-flight entertainment leaves something to be desired.  I mean, I like a genetically-altered 4-legged, 8-titted stewardess as much as the next guy but  you ever try to fool around with one in those tiny starship bathrooms?  Like I said, nightmare.  Also, the movies are almost always duds but I did enjoy that new Zac Efron movie, Death In the  Galactic Age.  No one plays a grizzled, old detective like Efron.  Guy reminds me of gruffer, angrier Nick Nolte.

I gave up all the drugs except Froton.  It actually improved my vision and alleviated the numbness I sometimes get in my testicles.  It’s perscribed by MedStrike, the militant wing of the FDA, to partition your memories and clear fragmented thoughts.  Works like a charm.

Anyway, let me know if you found replacements parts for my teleporter because I want to be back in time for the Rocklahoma Fest and to be honest, a couple of these space whores are trying to claim that I fathered a couple of their many-headed children.

Your friend

Darren D.