Wednesday, February 3, 2010

This. means. war.

My thoughts exactly, Catherine. It is time to put the bipping mechanism in full effect. No more holding back. Who is going to stop me?

Oh, I've bipped here and there. But that was amateur stuff. There are pros out there and they're throwing off the curve. I have been bipped FIVE times. What the hell is going on? I thought everyone got bipped once, had a good laugh, and then went back to fuming about the color of the jersey swatch on their Aramis Ramirez relic card.

This is like the kid who goes to kindergarten for the first time, comes home and says, "I'm glad that's over," only to be informed that he has to do it again 180 times a year for the next 18 years of his life.

I've been bipped by Bonds, Willis and Hershiser. Then a package came from Matt of the aptly named Heartbreaking Cards. I knew what was inside because Matt's been bipping like rabbits. I don't think he's ever going to stop.

The first thing that came out of the package was this note:

Another happy sentiment. This is the bipping equivalent of talking about the weather. You don't mean anything you're saying and there are all kinds of unhealthy thoughts bouncing around in your brain when you're saying it.

This is what I was supposed to enjoy:

Well, I do enjoy it, if only for confirmation that the only Brian Myrow card in existence is not the 2006 Fleer Ultra card, which seems to arrive at my house daily. Myrow is now in the Pirates organization, placing a ball out of the reach of fielders about 15 percent of the time. So I'm going to just sit back and watch the stock rise on this baby.

But there was more. Next, Matt thought I needed to complete the 1992 Topps Kids Dodgers team set.

There's the whole thing. Unfortunately, five of them are doubles. Technically not a bipping. And I did need the Kal Daniels card, so a gold star there.

But not too big of a gold star, because this fell out next:

Remember when Bip Roberts was some dude from the '90s with the wacky first name who played on the West Coast somewhere so you never had to think about him? Oh, how I wish I didn't have to think about him again.

All right, Matt, what have you got. A bunch of Balbonis? A mob of Macfarlanes? A gaggle of Gubiczas?

Close. A gang of Gordons. You couldn't have sent one more card to fill out the row?  What kind of bipping is this? This isn't even a card I need. At least I needed the Bonds and Willis cards. And Hershisers are always welcome. This is a guy who messed up my complete 2006 Topps set. There's a special place in collector's hell for Gordon.

All right, after that, I took a warm shower and tried to move on.

After Bip IV, I really thought I was done. No one else on my radar.

Then this came:
Hey, buddy, my morale was quite fine until bippings begain. I was a bouncing ball of happiness before Thorzul turned my daily festive trip to the mailbox into an anxiety-ridden march to doom.

This was totally unexpected from Mike of JD's Wild Cardz. We had arranged a card-for-card trade. That card did arrive:

I really, really, really like this card. I'm glad I have it.

But then there was the note. And this on the reverse side:

Great. Math. That's Bip to the Third Power, Right? Do you know how long it's been since I've dealt with exponents? Does Risky Business mean anything to you? Yeah, I was contemplating Rebecca De Mornay the last time I thought about exponents. I'm a word guy. How do you expect me to understand your bippings?

So this is what happened next to the word guy:

Nine cards of the alligator-wrestler. I see where the math comes in. Greenwell to the third power equals nine Greenwells. Nine guys bitching about how Canseco robbed him of an MVP award. Fortunately, I need one of each Greenwell. So, that's where math is fun! Yay for me.

Not a terribly unpleasant bipping. But it was Bipping No. 5 or Bipping V, and unless I want the roman numerals after the bippings to resemble those that come after "Super Bowl," it's time to implement Operation Bip.

I have some key ammunition that I have been saving up long before I knew what bipping was. I knew it would come in handy someday. Remember, I don't throw cards away. I keep EVERYTHING.

It's time to make someone else afraid of their mailbox.

I don't want to hear any complaints. Or I'll sic Catherine on you. She's hard-core. She's bipped on cocaine. She tells me it's nice. At least I think that's what she said. I was kind of distracted when she said it.

7 comments:

  1. I'm almost afraid to go my mailbox these days. I'm really surprised the mainstream media hasn't picked up on this...at the very least it's AS bad as the anthrax scare.

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  2. They should have "how to recognize a bip package" posters at the post office

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  3. Last I heard about Mike Greenwell is that he is racing pick up trucks on dirt tracks.

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  4. I am STILL giving the JD recycling machine a ricky ledee card a day for demolition.

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  5. you got off lucky. Bip to the third should've been 27 Greenwells.

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  6. Like I said, I haven't thought about an exponent in two decades.

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  7. What is... I won't ask.

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