During yesterday's loss to the Minnesota Twins, we were graced with the first Rem-Dawg and Orsillo giggle fit of the season, this one over some truly jaw-dropping footage of the Red Sox dancing. Instead of hilarious drunken victory dances, though, the Sox, with the exception of Mike Lowell, were embarrassing themselves attempting to dance for real, with ballroom dancers shipped in for the occasion.
The NESN duo were obsessed with Dustin's insane shirtlessness, with the word DADDY spelled out on his chest in Magic Marker, which I'll grant was pretty out of control. But I reserved most of my horrified fascination for Mr. Papelbon.
First he was giving his dancing partner the Game Face:
Which I have to admit was quite fetching. Until she elbowed him square in the jaw:
And then he busted out in that big goofy grin:
And somehow...any spell that had been present was completely broken for me. When he proceeded to pick up his girlie and perform a hip-swively dance, I was aware it was supposed to be a sexy dance, but somehow, it was not very sexy.
Perhaps because by then I'd noticed what he was wearing.
A skintight, see-thru black lace shirt and jeans with huge glittery horseshoes. On the buttcheeks.
Look. I'm all for Jonathan dancing around in tight, revealing clothing. Believe me, I'm all for it. But let me just specify, so hopefully there'll be no more misunderstandings going forward--preferably not clothing and dancing that in combination make him look like a possessed figure skater. On crack.