Thursday, October 29, 2009


Hey there, Jeff! Hey, got a little suggestion I'd like to make. And by suggestion, I mean you are going to start Vince at QB this week.

Awwwww, come on Mr. Adams, for real?

Hell yes I'm for real! Y'all are an embarrassment to the state 'a Tennessee this year and I'd like to see what my boy Vince can do out there on the football field

But sir, we're still trying to win these games! I still feel that Kerry....

Listen you fuckin' NASCAR-looking jizz-sipper! I'm the boss around here, and I say start Vince. If you don't, I swear to God I will come down there and rip that fucking pubestache right off that Jiffy Lube-ass face of yours. You hear me?

Yes, sir.

*hangs up*

Fuck me. Seriously...I hope somebody comes in here in a Home Depot apron and shovel-fucks me. Just fuck me with a fucking shovel.

God damn it. I guess I had better break the news to Vince.

Oh fuck yeah, this is tight! This shit gonna be hot.

Damn...what's coach want? Shouldn't he be watchin' film or some shit?

*answers phone*

What up, Fishsticks?


Hey, Vince. What's up, buddy? How you doin'?

Working on my Halloween costume...I'm going to be a panda this year. Shit's gonna be tight. I'll show you.

*sends picture message*

Vince, I don't need to see your costume....

*checks new message*

Holy fuck, Vince! That's awesome! You look an actual panda!

Are you....are you eating bamboo?

Hell yeah, Coach! Just like a real panda.

How long did it take you to make that costume, Vince?

'Bout 50 hours, I'd say. I been workin' on it for awhile now. I got a lotta time since Lendale ain't drinkin' Patron with me anymore. So I just been drinkin' that shit straight out the bottle and workin' on this panda, ya know what I'm sayin'? I'm probably gonna make a full body suit and be like, a real panda, you know what? Fuck it. I don't really want to make a suit. Fuck it. I'll just go like this.

Vince, Vince...I got it. I just wish you would spend this much time and attention in the film room.

I'm guessing you've seen what Bud said on TV by now, right?

 Nah Coach...I been spendin' all that time getting fucked up and makin' this panda. I ain't seen shit on TV.

Oh...hmm. Well...Bud demanded that I start you at quarterback this weekend. 

What? What the fuck you say, Coach?

You're gonna be starting this week. So you might want to stop drinking for a bit, you know, cause you're going to have to like, play football this weekend.

No way Coach, I done spent too much time on this panda costume and I got like mad fuckin' parties to hit this weekend, dog. I ain't doin' it.

Vince, you're gonna start this weekend.

This is your chance to resurrect your career, Vince! You have to take this seriously.

Awww, damn Coach. You right. I guess I'll stop drinkin for a bit and maybe check out some film and try to get back....

That's what I like to hear!

....and like, maybe practice hard this week and like....oh, fuck it. Fuck it, man.

What? What do you mean "fuck it"?

Just fuck it, Coach...ya know? Fuck it. I got all this shit to do this weekend and I ain't make this panda for nothin'. I'm gonna be gettin' some serious ass with this thing. Fuck football. I don't want to start. I don't think. Just fuck it. Fuck it with a shovel, ya know what I mean? Iiiiiite coach, I'm gonna go do some shots with Limas Sweed.


I know what you mean, Vince. I know what you mean.

Fuck it.

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Accidentally taking meth

Shown in one picture is all-time tennis legend Andre Agassi, a man who could show Kordell Stewart a thing or two about pounding balls.

Also shown is a guy who used meth.


Yeah, whatever, everyone has heard by now that Andre Agassi used meth in 1987. And, truthfully, I couldn't care less if he used meth, blew priests, fucked goats, paid Ted Haggard in counterfeit money for rimjobs, sympathized with the Taliban, etc. Don't care. So he used meth. So did Stephanie Tanner. And you know yinz all love you some Stephanie Tanner.

However, Agassi writes in his book that he tested positive for meth in 1988 but convinced ATP (the American Tennis People) that he had taken it...accidentally.


I'm not linking to anything, because that would entail me searching, and I don't feel like doing that. Fuck that. But he said it. And tennis was all like, "oh, ok, that's cool....everybody accidentally takes some meth every now and then".

WTF! Ok, I'm no methspert, that really plausible? Don't you have to like, smoke meth on a big ass spoon with like a butane torch while wearing an INXS t-shirt and sitting in a bathtub full of skim milk? Darryl Strawberry never claimed to accidentally use crack. Rae Carruth never described gunning down his pregnant wife as a "misunderstanding". And while Agassi'd still expect the Tennis Federation to be like, "whoa Ags, you can't just accidentally use meth!". But nooooooooo.They bought it!

This defense never ever worked for me, and I've only used it for far more trivial matters than doin' some meth. So....point, Agassi. There's a real man of genius if I've ever seen one.

Friday, October 23, 2009

It's Tricky: Charli Baltimore

Ahhh, female rappers. A curious breed. They can't really rap about like, selling coke and shooting people and stuff, so they mainly just talk about beating up other women and taking on prodigious amounts of dick. Seriously, why can't real women be like this? "Hey, I take so many dicks and I'm so awesome at laying there and getting cocked". Oh, really? He's my phone, email, fax, pager and social security numbers. We should meet up and touch our gens together.

Anyway, in the song N.B.C. (Nore, Baltimore, Cam'Ron), with, well...Noreaga and Cam'Ron, the little minx above, who goes by the name Charli Baltimore, drops this fine lyric (and you can see that there's plenty more awesomeness where that came from):

[Charli Baltimore]
Fools ain't ever know, the ghettos be the baddest clique
Charli's Angels, tangle with devil's advocate
Hoes mad cause our pussies got the fattest clits

Uhhhh...congrats? Hoes are jealous of the size of your clits? Who the fuck even notices or says anything about that?


"Uh, no Jim...she was wearing pants."


"Great. Stop yelling at me."

What a weird thing to brag about. Just goes to show how much it sucks to be a female rapper and how you are behind the 8-ball right from the point you delve face first into that idea. Or it's vagina. Or something like that.

Sure is tricky to rock a rhyme right on time. Especially for a chick rapper.

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Jesus hates Curt Schilling

Just came across a link to one of the largest, most voluminous bags of douche of all-time, Curt Schilling, reliving his "bloody sock" game on his website.  Big deal. Babe Didrikson Zaharias once completed an entire triathlon with a bloody tampon and completed the final running portion DESPITE SUFFERING FROM TSS. That takes balls. Or labe. Whatever. Fact is, if Curt Schilling somehow managed to pull out a decent pitching game with a tampon stuck in his ass, not only would we have to deal with iconic images of the string hanging out while he threw a splitter, but that tampon would also be residing in the fucking hall of fame right now and legions of Boston sports fans would jack themselves off while staring at their TAMP-ON A PRAYER posters and frothing at the mouth.

Anyway, I don't have a problem with Curt doing this or invoking how Jesus carried him towards this miraculous feat. I mean, his fucking sock was bleeding! But that doesn't mean I can't make fun of him on my website, as Curt Schilling certainly lays on the mound like a God-damn broad.

I knew I was going to start, but had no idea how I was going to pitch. The ankle, after having been sutured the night before, was holding up a lot better than we’d thought. I was surprised at the amount of bleeding that occurred overnight, and I am sure the maids were a bit worried when they changed my sheets that morning.

And the stage is set. Curt Schilling knew...he'd have to pitch while bleeding. Reminds me of the time Walt Disney bravely led a 1953 construction meeting while suffering from profuse ball-sweating.

I didn’t do anything really abnormal in the day leading up to the start. I did a few more windups in my hotel room than normal, to try and push it a bit to make sure it wasn’t going to pop.

 As opposed to, what, amputating the foot? Way to keep a level head, Curt.

The thing I most vividly remember from the hours leading up to the start was hitting the top step in Yankee Stadium. When I went out to pitch Game 1, when I hit the top step to walk to the bullpen, my ankle buckled and the tendon popped out of place. That was the first time I knew I might have a problem.

I call no fucking way, Dr. Schilling. Can anyone with a medical degree from some Caribbean island set the record straight here? This is almost as crazy as the time I was folding laundry during an episode of Home Improvement and my dick fell off.

It was about the 50th time I had faced the Yankees that year, and I knew it would be the last, so I came out of my bullpen having done some things different. Whereas I usually made sure I had fastball command and my split, I worked my ass off in that pen to get a feel for my curveball and slider right off the bat since I wanted to use them for all nine innings, instead of here and there.

Good for you. Just putting this in to keep the story flowing. 

In Game 6, there was no specific moment when I knew that I would make it through the game. After pitch one, I never really thought much on it. It held up I think because I never favored it, or at least never felt like I did. In watching some highlights I do notice I limped, but I never thought I was limping.

I didn't feel like I was limping, because I was always told that heroes don't limp. If I was limping, you can call that swagger. And as you'll see later, it can all be attributed to Christ, whom I believe actually gives a fuck about a baseball game while children in Guatemala are being raped by everything other than food and water. I'll call that "limp" my JESUS SWAGGER.

I only realized the ankle was bleeding for one reason. I received multiple Marcaine injections from April on, each start, and as the season wore on I started needing to get in-game injections as well. This game I needed to have it done again, and the Marcaine made the outer half of my foot numb (which was a whole other problem).

That's funny. We all realized that the ankle was bleeding BECAUSE IT WAS FUCKING COVERED IN BLOOD. And who cares? Honestly, is bleeding such a difficult affliction to overcome? Does anybody ever call off of work because they are bleeding? Did Betsy Ross give up on sewing the flag because her old-timey wench girdle was covered in blood and she was out of Marcaine? I don't think so.

In doing so it made me feel as though my shoe wasn’t on right, so I kept pressing down on the bottom of my shoe to move my foot side to side to try and “feel” as if my foot was firmly in my shoe. That’s how I noticed, in about the fifth or sixth inning, that the sole of my shoe and my sock were soaked with blood. You ever walk in the rain in your socks? That’s how it felt. Problem was that it was cold out, too, so that made the blood cold and I could feel it on half my foot.

So you are comparing this heroic, iconic task to pitching with rain in your socks? "Honestly, have any of you laypeople, or should I say gaypeople, even completed the simplest task with RAIN WATER in your SOCKS?!?!? And if so, was it cold?" This is captivating. My attention has just been captured.

In looking back on it, the main thing I take away from that game was my mental ability to overcome anything. I got past the ankle pain and into a state of mind that had me completely focused on the game.

Oh, shut the fuck up. You're so damn special, Curt. You can pitch with rainwatery blood in your socks. Wow, what's next? What else can you overcome? Running out of gas 200 feet from a gas station? Blowing some dude in an alley in spite of a bad hair-day? I'm sure Jackie Robinson and Pete Gray would be amazed at your mental toughness. Curt Schilling can mentally overcome ANYTHING.

I probably did more damage to the ankle than I would have liked. When they opened my ankle up after the season they told me that my peroneal tendon, in addition to being dislocated, was split, lengthwise, for about five inches and wedged over the ankle bone. In a way that was a good thing because it sort of locked itself down.

Dr. Curt Schilling, M. fucking D.

I made it through seven innings, and when I was done, I sat on the bench. I’ve often talked about the spiritual experience that entire two-week period was, and after I came out of this game it really hit me hard.

Here's where we start getting entirely too gay for the average human being. The spirituality of the experienced? You pitched with a bloody ankle. Give me a fucking break. There was nothing spiritual about you overcoming your ankle injury and pitching in a playoff baseball game.

I had prayed hard, never once to “win” but just to be able to compete. I couldn’t do that in Game 1 because in a spiritual and physical sense I had tried to “go it alone.” Before Game 2 I had prayed with Mike Timlin and Tim Wakefield, and I prayed ONLY for the ability to compete. I prayed for that with the belief that with the eight guys playing behind me, and my ability to pitch, I could beat them on one foot if I could just compete.

"And, luckily for me, the Yankees apparently did not pray. In fact, they actually cursed the Lord and suggested that He go and fuck Himself, as they did not need Him to beat me in a game of baseball, as I just had a tendon sutured. Then they pulled their dicks out and pissed all over the rosary while reciting a satanic chant over a Three Six Mafia beat. 'Sippin' On Some Syrup', I believe. This whole time, I was praying with Mike Timlin that I could overcome my bleeding and just throw the ball. And for this I must thank Jesus Christ. Amen".

Looking back on it five years later, it was a much more meaningful event from a faith and spiritual standpoint than from a performance standpoint. I am proud of what we did that night, but I am far more excited about what I was able to experience in my relationship with Christ that night. I knew, postgame, when I started the press conference off by thanking the Lord and the entire media contingent rolled its eyes, how they were going to report it. Whatever they did, I knew they couldn’t come close to conveying what I had experienced.

That's because they think you are a douchebag who actually believes that pitching through an injury forged a stronger relationship with Christ.  There are worse things going on in the world, Curt. You pitched through this injury because it was not like career threatening and you could handle the pain. Not because Christ came down and touched your ankle in-between sending devastating tidal waves to Indonesia and Bangladesh. I'm actually more impressed that you were able to pitch with all of the thorns on your hat.

My lasting memory of that game — more than anything that happened while I was on the mound — is of Keith Foulke. Every memory I have of that postseason has Keith in it. He pitched every stinking game and dominated, on fumes.

Even though he wasn't praying with you?

Christ works in mysterious ways.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

I'm slacking

Fall's a busy time of year for Vern, what with all of the traveling I usually end up doing along with a barrage of work recently. That and I've been a bit drained creatively.

But, I do plan on getting it together at some point in the near future. Maybe Vince Young will start a game or something and I'll have something to write about.


Thursday, October 8, 2009

Willie Parker is pissed

Ok, this isn't me. I didn't write it. I just read it. On a message board.  A message board that Willie Parker posts on, apparently. Let's see what he's got to say, and oh how eloquently does he say it indeed:


Yes…I read this board. What can I say…your hatred fuels me.

So, with Rashard looking like he’s finally ready to take the reins (that’s the guy you’ve been bashing for over a year for being a bust) it appears to look more and more likely that this will be my final season in Pittsburgh. My enjoyment watching him run the other night was only eclipsed by my enjoyment of reading how many less rushing yards we would have had if I had been the tailback. My 25 for 146 and 2 TDs against the same team in a PLAYOFF GAME only 8 months ago appreciates the feedback.

I’d also like to politely request that you go fuck yourselves. I grew up chasing pit bulls and still haven’t really gotten any sort of grasp on the English language and yet every time I come here I walk away feeling like a god damn Rhodes Scholar. While the level of mass retardation never ceases to amaze me, what really takes the cake is the way the sheep always flock towards the biggest fucking idiots.

“Hey that retarded pothead who thinks Ben’s YPA needs to drop for him to get better really knows his shit.”

“A dumb redneck troll who thinks we’re all gonna be standing in soup lines in 6 months? Sign me up for his newsletter!!!”

“Some guy that doesn’t think I tried hard enough in college? PREACH ON BROTHER!!”

“That dickhead that doesn’t like me because we traded up for Holmes when we could have moved up just two more spots for Laurence Maroney? ONE OF THE GREATEST THINKERS OF HIS TIME!!!”

“Some old Yinzer that’s petrified of letting go of the 70s so he dances around his house naked every Sunday morning listening to Jimmy Pol records while cooking up his brats and chilling his Ahns? CAN YOU SAY EINSTEIN!!!!”


You. Fucking. Sheep.

Look mother fuckers…I always had a small window. We all knew it. I was already pushing 25 and not necessarily a big man when I took over the starting position and this is a league where most tailbacks don’t keep producing at the same level past 28-30. What I don’t understand is where the fuck all this disdain comes from? All of a sudden, I’m Amos fucking Zeroue? All of a sudden…I’m the fucking problem? Are you people insane? Let’s review.

In the 2005 preseason we lose both JB and Staley to injury and everyone starts to panic. I proceed to take the reins and play so well that it becomes clear nobody will be getting them back. As the season goes on, all the criticism builds up…

“He doesn’t break arm tackles.”

“He doesn’t have vision.”

“He runs into his blockers.”

And the most retarded of them all…


HOLY SHIT, PEOPLE!!! Let me take this opportunity to apologize for all those long TD runs. I realize that you were used to your tailbacks running right where the play is and falling forward for a yard. Those long runs never did this team any good did they? I remember one long run I had (hang on a second…I just thought of another criticism)


Fast forward to February of 06 motherfuckers! Some call it the longest TD run in Super Bowl history. Some call it the game winning TD of Super bowl XL. Some call it the play that Jerome somehow managed to execute from the sidelines (seriously). Most of you fucking scumbags simply refer to it as the most bittersweet play you’ve ever seen. As those dreaded long runs piled up and even won us a Super Bowl, it became painfully obvious that I was going to become the player that proved more than anything that you’re a bunch of charlatans who couldn’t even begin to know how this team operates. Oh but there’s more…

“He got so much help from Jerome. Jerome absorbed all the big hits. He’ll never be able to carry the rock for an entire season.”

2006-07 Pittsburgh 16 337 1494 93.4 4.4 13 31 222 13.9 7.2 25 8.4 12 3

Yes, that’s 337 carries. Blow me. Wrong again.

Let’s see, I also broke the Steelers single game rushing record twice that season and both times were in 3 quarters. There’s a really good chance I could have the all-time single game rushing record. That would have sucked for you, huh?

Remember when I beat the Saints almost by myself? It was a great day. It got better when I came on here and read about how Maurice Jones Drew had like 140 yards rushing today and we should have drafted him instead of Santonio too!

I was named team MVP that season and it was a rough one that was marred by turnovers but I had put up the type of numbers that reflect those of a league MVP and finally that was enough, right? I was finally going to be accepted as a true Steeler? No fucking way.

You see…you retards still had more things to say. Winning a Super Bowl wasn’t enough. Becoming a big time Pro Bowl tailback wasn’t enough. There was more!!!

“Sure, Willie produces but it’s not on talent…he just has a lot of heart.”

:bang: :bang: :bang: :bang:

Oh once again…I’m sooo sorry. I had no idea that there was a certain way I was supposed to produce. I didn’t know that getting 1500 yard, 16 TD season behind one of the worst lines in the league also required me to produce with talent instead of heart. I now realize that after every run, it’s assessed upon whether the yards were gained by talent or by heart and if it’s deemed to be talent, they actually give you 3 bonus yards on the spot!

Seriously, this is the type of retardation that you fucking sheep buy right into. Kill yourselves now.

Any more myths you people invented that I have to prove wrong?

“Teams don’t game plan to stop Willie Parker.”

Ah, of course. Why would a team try to stop me instead of just letting me run wild? Are they not afraid of “heart yards”? When I see all those 8 man fronts and continually get pounded in the back field on run blitzes, is it because they’re protecting the fucking pass?

I seem to remember a Monday night at Heinz field where the Rats had held me in check to the tune of about 50 yards rushing. They were all over my shit that night. Something else happened that night though…AERIAL CIRCUS. Ben threw 5 TDs in the first half alone on the way to us completely routing our hated rivals. Let’s go to the losers locker room…


Let’s see, our biggest rival just got their asses whupped on national TV and all they want to do is brag about how they held me in check? Really? That was the big ass pink elephant in the room that nobody wanted to talk about because once again, it proved that y’all have your heads so far up your collective asses you need a crowbar to get them out!

Holy shit.

Let’s see...what else?

“Willie just pads his stats against bad teams and does nothing against good teams.”

I always thought this was an odd criticism coming from people that hated me simply because they loved Jerome and I’m so opposite from him right down to that whole pesky “winning Super Bowls” thing.

Furthermore, it wasn’t only me and Jerome. It’s every tailback in the NFL!!! Good teams are better at stopping the run? NO SHIT!!! In week one, after us winning the first game of our title defense this year, we got a thread to celebrate the accomplishments of Adrian Peterson for having a big day against CLEVELAND!!! I ONCE GOT 236 YARDS AGAINST CLEVELAND IN 3 FUCKING QUARTERS AND IT WAS…

“Well yeah…what do you expect…it’s fucking Cleveland.”

Where’s the fucking thread about how bad AP sucks because he only had 55 yards against the Packers last night? Wait what’s that…the Packers were trying to take him out of the game and that’s why Favre went off? OTHER TEAMS TRY??? YOU MUST BE FUCKING KIDDING ME!!!

After I had torched Jacksonville and New England in consecutive weeks to the tune of about 6.5 per carry, where were the threads about how great I am against good teams.

Pink. Elephant.


With just a couple of games to go in that season I was leading the entire NFL in rushing heading into a game on turf against the lowly Rams and in excellent shape to win the rushing title and put up a 15-1600 yard season. I’m sure most of you scumbags took a big sigh of relief when I broke my leg on the second play because not only does me winning a rushing title further prove that you’re completely fucking retarded, it also presented a chance for you to prove one more criticism…

“Willie is not integral to the success of this team.”

Yeah, because Jackson, Faneca, Dawson, Stai, and Strelczyk had been dominating for me all season, right? Fuck you. Seriously…fuck you.

Well Najeh had himself a decent game and we did go on to predictably crush one of the worst teams in the league that night but then it became more than that. It wasn’t…”OH NO…WE’RE FUCKED GOING INTO THE PLAYOFFS WITHOUT OUR PROBOWL TAILBACK!!!” It was…

“Did our offense get better after Willie suffered that horrific injury?”

Yup…it was time to jump on that bandwagon. You finally got rid of me and it was time to prove that even though you’d been completely wrong about me in every way, shape, and form for three fucking years…this was your chance at redemption. We were gonna go make a run at this without old FWP in the backfield and show everyone how little he meant to this team.

We were slated to face the Jags and the Pats**…the two teams I had torched just a few weeks prior. Well we didn’t get to the Pats** and we lost to the Jags because of three first half INTs and no running game whatsoever. Did you wonder what would have happened if 39 didn’t break his leg mother fuckers! Did you wonder where some of that Jags pass D would have been if they had to worry about the league rushing title winner? Did it make you wonder? No, it was just “Ben sucks.” More of those pesky pink elephants.

Charlatans. Retards. Hypocrites. Sheep.

Now, I really don’t want to say the wrong thing here or mislead you in anyway so if you’ve read anything, please read this…

Fuck you, StillerNation. I hope you get AIDS. You actually have the audacity to bash me now and compare to Amos Zeroue? You’re actually apologizing to people because you now realize that I suck? I fucking worked my ass off for this organanization! Do you really think pro bowl tail backs just fall in people’s laps like this? Most teams actually have to use high draft picks to get us! I gave you the luxury of not having to worry about that position for three years at a ridiculously cheap rate (about 2% of the cap) and the luxury to draft players like Holmes, Timmons, and Woodley where you may have done something retarded like pulled the trigger on Laurence effin’ Maroney!!! I showed up in shape every season. I worked to get better every season and I produced behind one of the most mediocre lines in the NFL. I am so sorry!!! I’m sorry that I held you back from winning Super Bowls too! I mean, after a 26 year drought, we really should have won 4 in 4 years instead of just two. That’s my fault.

Charlatans. Retards. Hypocrites. Sheep.

You’re an embarrassment to Steeler fans. I was told this fan base prided itself on being knowledgeable. Then I came along and proved how full of shit you really are. Go ahead…pound your chests. Tell everyone how you told them so. I don’t give a shit anymore.

You’re a pathetic, sad, little bunch of weasels. I’m gonna hold my head high and be proud to say I was a Pittsburgh Steeler when I leave this organization. I would have liked to have been more appreciated but we all can’t be beloved, I suppose.

Fuck You,

Fast Willie Parker


Yes, so Willie Parker is pissed not at his situation, or that Mendenhall has finally burst onto the scene, no....he's pissed that the Yinzers are writing him off already. One game and Willie's officially an afterthought.

Well, from reading those words...I wouldn't count Willie out just yet. This may be his last season here, and he may have come down a notch or two from his 2006-2007 form, but Willie is fired up. WILLIE IS READY TO RUN. You know, after that toe heals, of course. So, you saw it straight from the source...Willie's gonna have some big games yet in this season.

Mainly, I just thought this was the perfect ode to Fast Willie Parker if this is indeed his last season here and I gots nothin', so I'm gonna roll with this. Steve Winwood-style. The real author is "Art Vandelay" at Airing of Grievances ( Funny that I put someone's name in parentheses, eh "Vern"?