Thank you ladies and gentlemen. It’s great to be here in Boston where Clay Buchholz moving to the bullpen is like a Dust Buster vacuum that needs to be charged. I have to wait longer for him to suck. Let’s see who’s dishing it out and eating it this week.

It’s nice to see ex-Bruins coach Mike Sullivan close to winning a Stanley Cup while Claude Julien is close to finishing a glazed cruller at Tim Horton’s.

On a similar note, ex-Bruin Joe Thornton graced the cover of Sports llustrated while the guys he was traded for, Marco Sturm, Wayne Primeau, and Brad Stuart are starring in the Three Amigos off Broadway, way off Broadway, in Saskatchewan, next to an outhouse, in the snow.

I love how Danny Ainge is viewed as some latter day Jerry West. The guy has one championship in 13 seasons, and he got that because his buddy Kevin McHale giftwrapped Kevin Garnett from the Timberwolves. If Ainge were in “The Godfather,” he’d be Fredo, and they’re warming up the motorboat.

I mean, let’s face it, the last time a really great Celtic was drafted was when the late Bill Sharman joined the Navy in 1944.

I still blame Jeremy Jacobs for the fact that the Bruins have just one Stanley Cup since Bob Haldeman had a job. Jacobs is ancient. His first job was in government, holding the thread for Betsy Ross. The guy is so old that on his first board of directors, they didn’t use a gavel, they used a club — one grunt for yea and two grunts for nay.

At a recent Bruins’ investors’ meeting, Jacobs ordered out for Geritol and Ben Gay.

With over 40 years of ownership, Jacobs is dependable, and by dependable, I mean he wears Depends.

I was at The Greatest Bar last week and actually heard some joker say that the Patriots should get Johnny Manziel. Clearly, this dude was over his Zima limit. Manziel continues to have his troubles with alcohol. His entourage has little nicknames for each other: Jack (Daniels), Johnnie (Walker) and Jim (Beam), and his new agent is a partner in the law firm Chardonnay, Zinfandel, and Chablis.

Manziel’s drinking was so bad that his Browns’ contract actually had line items for vermouth and olives. He asked that the water cooler in the locker room be replaced by a keg. Instead of t-shirts, visitors to the Browns’ practices received scratch & sniff wine advertisements.

Manziel finds trouble like Pablo Sandoval finds a Golden Corral. He says the wrong thing at the wrong time more than a mentally challenged, infirmed psychopath with Tourette’s syndrome. The last time I saw something that stupid stick its foot in its mouth, a gorilla was bathing.

Third base is off limits, but the Red Sox have found a new job for Sandoval when he comes off the DL. His nine chins flapping in the breeze will monitor the wind speed moving from left to right at Fenway.

By the way, if things don’t work out in the bullpen, Buchholz’s next gig will be working a fried clam stand in Seabrook. He certainly would fit in among the seafaring inbreds where dueling banjoes is the town song. The only baseball players are little leaguers, so his ERA will at least be under 6.00, and he’ll have the best teeth in town. Oh, who the hell are we kidding? He’ll have the only teeth in town.

David Ortiz continues his farewell tour and word is that sales of his 2007 autobiography have increased. A lot of people were surprised that Ortiz wrote a book. Personally, I was surprised he could read a freaking book. Ortiz is a hell of a hitter, but he’s no great communicator. Are there any freaking verbs in this book? What is it, 300 pages of f-bombs, spit-stained batting gloves, and a step by step how-to on passing a drug test?

John Farrell’s job has been absolutely saved by Ortiz. Of course, Farrell was hired only because he was Terry Francona’s towel boy here in Boston. Farrell hasn’t worked for Francona in years, but on an April trip to Cleveland, he spit-shined Tito’s shoes just out of habit.

There is no way I want to see Kevin Durant on the Celtics. The guy is weak. He’s so skinny, he only has one side. He has to wear skis in the shower so he doesn’t fall down the drain. Look at him, he’s a Bic pen with a shoe deal.

KD had a colonoscopy and they found a size 13.5 Under Armour high top from the ass-kicking Stephen Curry gave him in the Western Conference Finals. Durant got beaten so bad, people thought he was dating an NFL player.

Jessica Mendoza is really making a name for herself as an ESPN color analyst and her baseball knowledge is not to be questioned. I don’t remember the exact exchange, but one ESPN producer who disagreed with her stumbled out of the booth with a jagged-edged Kendall Jackson bottle in his neck and a size 7 Nine West high heel pump wedged between his butt cheeks.

The Red Sox have sent pitcher Joe Kelly to Pawtucket. People in Rhode Island are about to see more runs than at Fat Stripper Thigh High Night at the Foxy Lady.

 You’ve been a great audience. Honestly, I haven’t had this much fun since Derek Sanderson breathed on me in ’74 and I was hammered for a week. See you next week, and remember, it’s just “THE ROAST.”