Padres sweep the Braves.
Seven straight wins.
See here's the thing. You can't eff with the Rally Shellalagh. You can't eff with Big League Hair. You can't eff with the Kournikova Kiss. You can't eff with the three headed monster. You can't eff with Khalil, or Ramon, or Ryno, or the nicest guy in the world, Dave Roberts.
You can't eff with our mojo. Sucka.
Don't eff with Trevor Time. Don't eff with Jake Peavy. Don't you effing hit a ball at Western Metal Supply. Western Metal Supply is where Khalil hits the ball.
Don't eff with the Western Metal Supply Building.
You can't eff with our starters. You can't eff with our bullpen. You can't eff with our bench. That's where Sweeney, Blum, DJ, Ojeda and the X-man sit.
You can eff a little bit with Phil Nevin.
In conclusion, the Padres are so good right now I'm about to punch myself in the jock.
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