Hey, folks. Long time no see. It's been a while since I done this. I've been busy doing insignificant stuff such as graduating from college, applying for grad school, and finding a job. So my time has been rationed very judiciously. Unfortunately what that has meant is that the extraneous stuff has had to be cut out in the intervening months, and though I loved doing this little feature this 'zine for my friend David Kennedy, I had no choice but to put him on hold for close to 18 months.

Too bad. Because since the last release of this feature in October of '97 there have been a number of public figures who have been oh so deserving of this award in 1998. Let's see there's Latrell Sprewell, who really could have learned the true meaning of "lane violation." There's Wayne Huizenga, who needed a pimp-slap to go with his ream. Of course, a number of people involved in that whole White House scandal -- from Bill Jeff Clit-on to Monica Lewinsky, from Linda Tripp to Henry Hyde, from Paula Jones to Trent Lott, and the tightest ass-hole in need of a prison break, Kenneth Starr - should have just lined up and waited for the "grand jury inquiry". I wanted to give one to Martha Stewart because she looks like she needs to lighten up, move to Pebble Beach and find herself a black man - I want that bitch. Judge Judy Scheindlin deserved an award because she thinks she knows better than everybody else; well the justice I'd "meat" out to her is a night with Bubba the Love Bug. I think I can fix that entire Balkans problem if we just gave one to Sloboden Milosevic and let him get cleansed. I'll bet Saddam Hussein would abdicate quickly if he had a "colon" inspection from the UN. And outgoing governor Pete Wilson of California would have gotten a farewell dry slam.

Oh well, a shame I missed it. But I'm back now, ready to give out more awards to deserving recipients, and each month there are plenty to choose from. Take for example this month's beneficiary:

In case there are those of you out there who don't know whom this is, let me introduce you to him. John Moores is the owner of the San Diego Padres of Major League Baseball. The reason he is has the infamous distinction of receiving this award this month is because he knows all too well about screwing people, for he did it to his Padres, the city of San Diego, and the fans all in one fell swoop. This year's version of the 1997 Florida Marlins, it's hard for me to figure out who is more despicable, the Marlins or the Padres? At least Marlin's owner Wayne Huizenga was honest and up front about his intention to sell off his players. Moores pleaded with the public for a new stadium to keep his team together, claiming that a new stadium with new revenue streams would provided him with the necessary funds to compete in the majors. He punctuated his cause by the Padres getting to the World Series only three weeks before the city-wide vote for public funds to build a new stadium. With the excitement of a World Series fresh in their minds, the public vote him the funds for a stadium.

Then guess what Moores does once he got what he wanted? He immediately sold off his best players and reduce the payroll by close to $23 million, thereby insuring they won't be competitive enough to even defend their division crown in 1999. Now what's left is barely recognizable as the team that took Yankee Stadium only five months earlier. Gone are Greg Vaughn, Ken Caminiti, Steve Finley, Joey Hamilton and Kevin Brown, five of the seven elite players directly responsible for the Padres' 98 wins and NL pennant in 1998.

What's worse, Tony Gwynn, their future Hall-of-Fame outfielder, has been loyal to this organization for over 17 years, turning down much bigger money elsewhere to stay with a team that has clearly not evinced even a smidgen of respect in return. At 38, Gwynn has been at the baseball summit with this team three times, only to have the Padres pull the rug from under him twice before for economic reasons. At the twilight of his career, when he should be enjoying his notoriety with a competitive ballclub, he gets to wallow in baseball purgatory once again. That Moores could do this to a certain Hall-of-Famer - who has done all he has for them and killed himself for them, who has one of the best work ethics in all of sports, who is arguably the classiest, well-liked and gentlemanly competitors in all of society -- is nothing short of criminal.

The Padres will not be nearly as bad as the Marlins were a year ago, but I firmly believe that a town and its fan base deserves at least a passing chance at their team defending its championship. Moores has insured that they won't be able to defend their National League pennant.

I'm sure Tony Gwynn is too much of a gentleman to say it, so I will: John Moores, you are the north end of a south-bound brontosaurus, who would do us all a favor by getting out of the business of being miserable and quickly going about the business of becoming extinct. Until that happens, remember that people tend to like a kiss and some foreplay before you fuck them in the ass! So since you have obviously learned from Bubba The Love Bug and mastered the art of butt-reamings, I feel that turnabout is fair play. I can think of no other way to show you the true meaning of "new revenue stream". And we'll throw in a "tossed salad" to boot.

LeDarius Washington is a graduate engineering major at the University of California at Davis. His goal in life is to play Derrick Coleman in a one-on-one match to decide who is the worst basketball player in the free world.