The Fightins'

Posts Tagged ‘Nails – The Adventure Continues’

Posted by at 7:43 am ET 20 Comments

Who here thought it could get any worse for Lenny Dykstra? …(quiet enough that Jamie Moyer could hear a pin drop)…Well give yourselves a proverbial pat on the back! It’s been awhile since we checked up on ol’ Nails, so let’s sift through some of the latest wreckage.

A week ago, The Huffington Post reported a shockingly non-publicized story about Dykstra being sued for sexual harassment by a former employee. The document, originally obtained by The Smoking Gun, says Lenny called “Estate Manager/Personal Assistant” Jacqueline Massaro (whom he just hired) to drive 3 hours to his estate in Woodland Hills, CA. He was apparently drunk upon *his* arrival at 1 am, which was an hour after his assistant arrived. From The Gun:

When he got there, Dykstra, 47, yelled at her to get to work. Since it was nearly 1 AM, Massaro asked, “what he could possibly want her to do.” Dykstra, who played 12 Major League seasons and won a World Series championship with the New York Mets, then told Massaro to get the “fuck out of my house, it’s not going to work out, just leave.” Massaro contends that when she went to her room to pack for the return trip to San Diego, Dykstra came into the room and said, “So, you have nowhere to go, give me a blow job and you can stay the night.”

Massaro claims he then grabbed her breasts and pushed her onto the bed.  She screamed, then ran out of the house, presumably sans luggage, and drove back to San Diego. Some really, truly horrible stuff that, if true, that Met-born doucher should pay for. But because there’s literally been no coverage of this case, anywhere, I remain cautious in terms of it going too far.

Much more Nails-like,  Manhattan Style reported Thursday that The Dyke is suing JP Morgan for 100 million dollars for predatory lending. 100 million dollars.  You see, when he bought his 17.5 million dollar mansion, JP apparently promised him full financing. But that’s not what happened, according to Lenny.

…(Lenny) feels that he was duped by Washington Mutual, now owned by JP Morgan, into buying the home because he was promised 100% financing. At the last minute he claims the bank reneged and would only lend him 12.5 million, and he was forced to find secondary financing on the property. The inability to pay the interest on the two loans, coupled with the housing crisis forced Dykstra into a spiral of selling his remaining assets, most notably his interest in his car washes.

And as the article goes on to question, why the FUCK did he buy a 17.5 million dollar house on a claimed 1.2 million/year salary? Did he really love Wayne Gretzky that much? It was The Great One that unloaded his Sherwood CC home on him over 2 years ago.

So, does the suit come in response to the sexual assault allegations, to (successfully) change focus? Does he want the extra money to pay bail, pay for lawyers, or settle with Jacqueline Massaro out-of-court? Or is it just a culminating suit to shit on the financial ‘guru’ that trusted him enough to give him a daily spot in his online newspaper, Jim Cramer?  Well, we only know one thing, and we’ve known it for awhile: Lenny Dykstra is screwed.

Posted by at 6:17 pm ET 28 Comments

*Nov 24 - 00:05*Dude. Fuckin’ Nails here. You might have heard some shit about me lately, how I’m bankrupt and getting divorced and living out of my car and how I’m getting sued fuckin’ left and right.

Rest assured, all of that is completely true. But I’ve been in tougher situations than this before. Like the time I tried to start my own magazine and ended up not paying any of my staff, or our distributors, or the people who owned the property our offices were located in. Then my wife left me and the bank foreclosed on my house. Man, that was a sticky situation.

…Wait, that’s happening to me right now. Fuck. I need a cigarette.

[Finds half-extinguished butt on the pavement and takes a long, slow drag.]

Ugh! MENTHOL?!? Fuckin’ moolies. Sorry about that, sorry… I promised my lawyer I’d stop using racial epithets and calling people “faggot” and farting in their faces when they’d ask about the money I owed them. Fuckin’ vultures, dude, every single one of ‘em.

But it’s cool — this man has a plan. And when all is said and done, I’ll be back on top, getting rimjobs from Cramer and dispensing can’t-miss stock picks to you, the unwashed asses.

Here’s the plan: I’m selling my shit. And you’re buying it, motherfuckers.

Want a 1986 World Series ring? Bam. It’s yours. How about a game-worn Dwight Gooden jersey? Come and get it. You can still see the nosebleed stains on the front! That man did a lot of coke.

I can even get you those red-striped Zubaz pants Daulton used to wear all the time back in ’93. Hey, remember Daulton? What a wackjob, right? Thinks the world is ending in 2012 because of some Maya Angelou calendar. I don’t think I need to see that. Can you imagine what she must look like in a bikini? Christ — see you in twelve months, boner!

I won’t lie when I say I’ll miss a lot of this shit. Some of it brings back a lot of great memories, and great memories are more precious than gold. But you know what’s even more precious than that? Not sleeping in my fuckin’ car, dude.

Let the bidding begin!

      Read More:
Visit The Fightins Store
Friends of the Fightins:


R.I.P Harry Kalas