11/13/09 Worst of the worst! My Prison without Balls? Are you Serious?!?! If you have been around the Kalamazoo Wiffle League for any period of time, you’ve heard of the infamous Jacques Rimmier.  Many consider him a myth, many a legend, some even a fraud.  Those that attended the Wonders vs. Weasels matchup earlier this year have met the Frenchmen in person. I’ve heard mixed reviews of that interaction, but perhaps we can put the rape charges, restraining orders, and reoccurring nightmares behind us to divulge deeper into the man that is Jacques Rimmier. Recently Jacques has written a book filled with memoirs, childhood stories, and his thoughts on life.  Some chapters cover wiffle ball, many do not. An expert from “My Life Behind Balls the Jacques Rimmier Story.” I was preparing dinner for my date tonight, obviously in the traditional French style, just like my dear mother always taught me.  I remember standing on a footstool in her kitchen; me chopping shallots, her floating around the kitchen stirring this pot, seasoning that one.  Both her red summer dress and  leg hair would glide in the breeze coming from the open window.  Thinking about wrapping myself around one fuzzy leg to escape an inevitable spanking from dear old papa brings a tear to this Frenchmen’s eyes.  Or perhaps is the red onion… no matter. A loud knock on the door of my flat makes my heart beat faster; its Jacqueline, beautiful Jacqueline! Could tonight be the night that the flirting and romance actually culminates?!  Vive la France! I run to open the door. “My Love!” she wraps her arms around me before I can say a word. “I couldn’t wait to come over Jacques, all day at the boutique I was thinking about you! Is that Lobster Bisque I smell?!” “Yes my dear, I wanted tonight to be perfect.” I really did.  I spent all day cleaning.  Every nook and cranny of my flat, and Jacques, was scrubbed feverishly.  On the table my best green and white china was placed, crystal champagne flutes, a dozen red roses as the centerpiece, and sensual candles burning all over the room. “Please sit down dear.  I will get the hors d'oeuvres.” I pour two glasses of my best red wine, and grab the biscotti I had lovingly prepared.  Walking into the living room I find Jacqueline sitting on the couch eying me.  The sexual tension was so thick I could cut it with a knife. Or perhaps it was my cologne… I smile back just in time to see her lick her lips.  I don’t know if it’s meant for the wine, the food, or Jacques, but I don’t care.  I set the wine and platter on the table and proceed to jump her bones. The couch is a blur of clothing and passion, Jacqueline is dragging her nails across my back as I slide my hands up her dress.  Much to my surprise I find a penis under there, much to hers I don’t stop grabbing… He goes in, in graphic detail, about that evening, but it’s best for your sake that we stop there. You can purchase, “My Prison without Balls the Jacques Rimmier Story,” at your local bookstore, however I suggest you wait for the movie!