Every time we hear Skip Bayless talk, we just hear him saying the same thing: What I’d like to be doing now is choking the life out of a Guatemalan busboy just to feel. Yes, just to feel…something. Is there a more joyless commentator, or one you’re more convinced craves only the sweet pain of his custom built cock-and-balls electrotorture board? Is there an ESPN personality more snidely pedantic in his address, more tedious in his deliberate inhalation between the steaming pigflop of his supporting clauses, or more suitable for the role of “Das Grippenfuhrer” in a S+M themed production of Cabaret? If you cut him, do you not doubt that instead of blood, he would bleed sand like Karl Kroenen, and then wind himself up to deliver a two minute diatribe about someone who gets pounded by linebackers for a living being “gutless?” When he touches living flesh, do you not doubt that his touch is cold like that of a vampire or corrupted priest?

DO YOU DOUBT THE MAGNITUDE OF HIS AGGRESSIVE CREEPINESS? (We don’t.) We bet dogs don’t like him, which is as damning an indictment of someone as we can compose.

Part one of Miami journals here. Chimpanzee, safely en route to Argentina.