Paula Abdul Faces Heap Of Legal Hot Potatoes

Barry Bonds was indicted Thursday by a federal grand jury on charges of perjury and obstruction of justice.

But Barry is not to be blamed, mind you. After all, his testimonial predecessors milked all the effective truth-thwarting mechanisms dry: McGwire used the power of vaginitis, Sosa the power of lingual amnesia, and hell, Palmeiro just needed to use steroids to get a rise out of his wet noodle.

Bonds was unfairly backed into a corner here, and now the federal government is taking advantage of a shriveling hardball icon. It's the equivalent of corporally punishing a preschooler or throwing a toaster into a senior's sponge bath.

Well, at least now we won't have to watch Barry don another club's uniform next season. As the old saying goes, 'it's better to have him in horizontal stripes than pinstripes.'

Bonds indicted on perjury, obstruction of justice charges [SF Chronicle]

The Death of Death Row

Ed. Note: Evin "The Locomotive" Murphy finds time to belt out taint-tingling prose for LBMS from bathroom stall A at his real estate office in Santa Cruz, CA. Here, we present his initial offering:

Watching Bonds' final game in a Giants uni was the first televised funeral I've seen since they buried 2Pac. Unfortunately, Barry's funeral didn't offer any real chance for televised reprisal killings or represent the end of something anyone still valued. More on par with Suge Knight's incarceration sentencing than Pac's memorial, Bonds' last game signaled the removal of an overweight, over-entitled, washed-up thug tactician whose domination of the industry had clearly (pun intended) washed up long ago.