It’s obviously been a tough week, what with the passing of Farrah Fawcett, Billy Mays and, of course, Fred Travalena. But the Gorillas are a resilient bunch. And while we pass the time till we can go to Club Royale Wednesday night, where BK will pay tribute to Mr. Travalena by doing the same bit he did on Johnny Carson back in ‘82 -- “Wouldn’t it be wild if Jack Nicholson worked at a gas station? I think it’d go a little like this…” [turns back to crowd and shapes his face with his hands…] –- the Gorillas are gonna do something fun. And no, we don’t mean 
what this guy did. This week IS Tight Shirt Night! Seriously!
And as if that weren’t huge enough, it’s also the night we’re going to collect items that we will send to our militant/absentee left fielder, who is currently telling stories of three-legged dogs and dick-snippin ducks to some Iraqi kid who can’t understand a word he says. (Which happens to be the only thing we have in common with that Iraqi kid.) That’s right, the Sgt. Flemwad care package goes out this week so if you haven’t gotten something to send him yet then do so before tomorrow. (Call me or Baumgart if you need suggestions.) We’ll also be taking a picture to send with a card that we can all sign or piss on or something.
So all of you Gorillas (past and present) and all of you Gorilla Groupies out there, please come out to Iglerock tomorrow and show your support by wearing a shirt way to fucking small. It’s what master impressionists and vegas head-liner Fred Travalena would want. It’s what TV pitchman Billy Mays would want. It’s what hot piece of ass right till the end Farrah Fawcett would want. But most importantly, it’s what God and I want.
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