you wake up at the foot of the san pablo bay standing in the break with a corn cob in your chops and you puff and out pops a ring so you pull out a tennis ball from one of your big clown pockets and wedge it snug up into it and you say hey look a baby saturn but you're all alone

— ASAP HOBSTER (@KevinHobster) May 14, 2019

“How many of these hurlers — how many of them throw spitballs anymore?” asked Pal.

“Five,” said the clown with no shoes.