Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Let's give Tebow's dick some time to recover



Floridians, thank you for giving me your attention in this time of statewide crisis. As many of you know, Tim Tebow, a veritable ambassador for our state and outstanding young man, a follower of Christ, and Crist...Mr. Tebow sustained a concussion following a brutal hit in the Florida-Kentucky game on Saturday and was forced to leave the game and receive treatment at a local hospital. Mr. Tebow will be required to miss some action here in the greater interests of himself and his career and in turn, in the greater interests of us as his fans and supporters and, more importantly, as his neighbors and fellow Floridians.

But, I implore you...please give his dick some time to recover.

Please, hear me out. You as my constituents surely know that I would love nothing more than to be blowing Tim Tebow right now on the 50-yard line of Ben Hill Griffin Stadium while the Florida band plays a rousing rendition of  Howard Jones' "Everlasting Love" behind me and Urban Meyer personally barks out motivational nothings into my ear. You all know I would clean that dick like I was a Cuban maid five minutes removed from the Mariel Boatlift. I would leave that dick looking more exhausted than a post-40 yard dash Andre Smith. However, I'm going to have to wait for my opportunity, as allowing Mr. Tebow to recover must take precedent over orally relieving him of his future progeny.

And as such, Floridians, as much as you would like to get in there and treat that dick like it stole something, you must also allow Mr. Tebow to recuperate fully from his injuries. Please, give the young man a week or two. Feel free to compose an email or letter offering him your prayers and your encouragement and anything you can do to lift his spirits. However, you must allow that young, virile Heisman-winning cock of his the time it takes to get back to the level of performance that it is used to and frankly, a level that will be acceptable to a young man of Mr. Tebow's standing and stature.

I can assure you, my friends, that when the time is right and the requisite healing period has commenced, I will be the first one to head down to Gainesville and suck Tim Tebow's dick harder than Peter King does in his wildest dreams. I will blow him like our statewide economy depends on it. Like Lincoln would have done had Tebow's seed been capable of ending the Civil War, or like Jodie Sweetin would have done had Tebow ejaculated pure crystal meth. And at that point I would love nothing more than for my fellow Floridians to follow behind me with the intention of showing Tebow their own personal brand of rodeo. But until then, we must allow Mr. Tebow and his dick the one thing they require at this point...time.

Thank you for listening, Florida.

Monday, September 28, 2009

BAN THIS COMMERCIAL

While watching the Bengals finally hoard all of the disrespect that I had been heaping at them and turn it into motivation fuel, I saw that damn Adrian Peterson lizard commercial and snapped. I had had enough.

He's running through the snow, playing a successful game, diving into the endzone, just generally being awesome. And then he goes to the locker room and we see that he's a lizard.

A FUCKING COLD-BLOODED, I-SHOULDN'T-BE-EXPOSED-TO-THE-SNOW-LIKE-THIS-BECAUSE-I'M-PROBABLY-GOING-TO-DIE LIZARD.

I've heard one defense that he may have sufficient body mass to survive the conditions, however, I don't buy that he should survive and still be awesome in the snow. He should be sucking balls and repeatedly curling up somewhere on the sidelines, unexposed to the wind or even inside the locker room. One place he should not be is in the endzone at the end of the game. There is no excuse for that defense to not stop a rapidly-cooling, about to die lizard. Embarrassing.

There's only one thing that would convince me to allow this commercial to remain on the air:



Friday, September 25, 2009

Disrespecting the Bengals






Uh oh, it's Bengals week! The Bengals! The gayest cats in the NFL, at least until 2012's expansion "Los Angeles Longhaired Tabbies"!

I forgot to disrespect the Bears last week, and look what happened. Jeff Reed shanked some kicks, Santonio Holmes dropped some passes, and James Harrison did not kill one single Asian family with his bare hands. Well, I'm not gonna make that mistake again. Fuck you, the Bengals. The trendy upset pick. But why? Because they almost beat a shoddy-looking Denver team? Because they did everything they could to lose to the Packers before getting saved by a false start penalty? The same Packers that were 8-8 last year and only beat Chicago by 1 IN SPITE OF GETTING FOUR INTERCEPTIONS!?!?!? Fuck that. Steelers beat these homos by 30.

But, just to try and keep it close, I'm going to throw out some stuff for the Bengal DISRESPECT BOARD!





Carson Palmer, you fucking idiot. Did you actually think this ad was going to just kind of slide by unnoticed? Whatever. It would have gotten even more play if you didn't start to suck immediately following Kemo ruining your knee back in aught six. Poor Carson. You could have been somebody! That could have been your Super Bowl! But, no, it's not, and you are relegated for playing a revamped, law-abiding team that chemistry-ed their way to a 4-12 season last year. But hey, bang-up job to start this season. 4 picks already. Looks like you are playing the role of the wise, wily veteran. Ike Taylor's open. Fuck. He dropped it. Try again.





 
 
Ochocinco. Where to start. You couldn't even change your name correctly! I hope you respond to this via Twitter. And I hope that when you say you are "Twittering" that it doesn't have anything to do with 12-year old girls, although that's suspect. Anyway, huge 55 catch season last year. You're still a huge weapon. Averaging like 8 yards a game career against Pittsburgh. You beat a horse in a race but had about a 100-yard head start. Who would be proud of that? "Hey, I just beat Carson Palmer in a race jacking off dudes, and he only spotted me 10 dicks!". Wow. Congrats. You're Ochocinco.





Keith Rivers! I bet your jaw is still too sore to blow Hines Ward, but unfortunately I don't believe you'll have a choice. It was nice of your fellow linebackers to stand up for you, though. They are still coming to get you, Hines! Watch out! At least you'll have some help from an old teammate...





Rey Maualuga! I'm sorry, Rey, but no one is asking about your hair with their eyes. I'm sure you wash and conidition, though. I wouldn't ever doubt that and I'm sorry if I insinuated as much. Whatever. Who cares about Rey Maualuga?





Marvin Motherfucking Lewis. The general. The warden, as he's been called. Because Bengals in jail! jokes are funny. They are the new Bengals really suck at football! jokes. However, both are applicable now. You must be really proud, Marvin. You defensive guru, you. Anybody could be a defensive guru coming from Baltimore. However, your defense continues to consistently suck, to the point where holding Green Bay to 28 marks like a renaissance year or something like that. That's not good. The defense is not "back". Antwan Odom had 5 sacks because nobody touched him. He's like a bargain-bin Joey Porter. Those two would wreak some serious havoc together, provided nobody touches either of them. Fuck you.

Fuck you all, The Bengals. You suck, you have sucked, and you always will suck. On the field, in the shower, everywhere. Homos.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

Why Richard Wight Hates the Pittsburgh Steelers



Hey, Hines. What's up.

Ok, so this guy, this Richard Wight, he hates them Stillers. And yinz know that it's ok to hate them Stillers, but if you do and you type it out, it's my right as a God damn 'Merican to rain down on your ass with some words of my own, possibly insinuating that you like the taste of penises and that your family operates a Rimjob kiosk in East Liberty.

Let's go.



Over the last year or so, I have really developed an interest in the whole sports writing/blogging thing. I have tried to express my opinions in a professional manner in an attempt to build journalistic integrity.

I haven't noticed, because I don't waste my time at bleacherreport.com, but I'm sure that if I had I would have marveled at the way you've come out of your shell as an incoherent cactusfucker and developed into a cactusfucker with a solid grasp of the ways of journalism. I guess either way you really enjoy fucking a nice cactus.




However, for this post, forget all that stuff.

Oh, snap. Richard is getting sandlot on us.





Nobody is forcing you to read this. Consider yourself warned.

Hate this stupid school of thought. "Don't tell me how wrong I am, you didn't HAVE to read it and yet you did". That's great, Richard. I watched some millipedes fuck each other one time in the woods when I didn't have to. That didn't mean it was insightful. Hey guys, there's a picture of my cock next. You've been warned! Don't criticize it, you took the time to look at it!

Oh yeah. The Steelers. Carry on.




I don't like the Cleveland Browns, but at least I can be cordial if I see someone in a Brady Quinn jersey. We can exchange friendly barbs while maintaining our civility. I don't know, maybe I feel sorry for a grown man that barks like a dog when his team scores a touchdown.

That's probably because if you met a grown man in a Brady Quinn jersey, you are likely co-workers at the same dive bar glory hole. Whenever Richard Wight's team scores a touchdown he responds by reading a chapter of The Grapes of Wrath aloud to underprivileged 5th graders.





I hate the pittsburgh steelers.  I can't even bring myself to capitalize the name.  Why, you ask? Here are a few reasons...

Honestly, at this point I don't want to know why you hate the Steelers. I want to know why you don't capitalize the name. Did Mike Webster rape your dad?




History 
Do you realize that the steelers did not win a playoff game until 1972? That is kind of ironic, considering they were founded in 1933. The irony comes in the fact that they began winning when the "juice" started flowing.  

My grandfather is PISSED that you would diss his beloved 1946 Steelers.

As an aside, there is nothing ironic about that. That is one of the worst uses of irony I've ever heard. It would be ironic if they were named the Pittsburgh Guys Who Win All The Time And Don't Need Steroids To Do It. Then it would be irony. And...fuck the steroids argument. Everyone was doing steroids then. They are still doing steroids. You know less about steroids than you do about irony, and that's saying something.





If you don't think the steelers were using steroids, take that stupid yellow towel and wipe the crap out of your eyes. The number of ex-steelers to die in the last 10 years is remarkable. Many of those have been players from the 1970s with heart problems. Coincidence?  I think not.

Well, focus on them, Richard. If you want to blame steroids for Justin Strelzyk driving into an oncoming tanker truck and for a tree falling on Steve Courson, then I'm going to blame the ongoing G20 protests on you molesting your daughter.





The Terrible Towel 
Speaking of that stupid yellow towel, is that the best you fools could come up with? Seriously? If you are a man with a job and family who somehow convinced a blind woman to marry you, why do you spend your Sunday waving a snot rag over your head?

I don't get it. You have a job, so you can't wave your flag? Is it supposed to be out of respect for your blind wife? I can't figure it out. Don't Packers fans wear cheese on their heads? Raiders fans wear spiked shoulder pads? Vikings fans dress like actual vikings? I believe that when the Jaguars score more than 28 points in a game, a live jaguar is circumcised at midfield by Jack Del Rio. 




A lady (sort of) that sits near me at work has one of those rags hanging in her cube. When I hit the lottery and tell them all to "take this job and shove it," I swear I am going to blow my nose in that stupid thing on way out the door.

It costs $2.99. What is your job that you can't afford $2.99 without winning the lottery? Do you work in Bangladesh? Now I see why you hate the Steelers. You must sew their jerseys!




The Players 
Ben Worthlessbooger is the most overrated player in the league. He is ugly and I hate him. I thought his looks would improve after smashing his face in the motorcycle accident. Nope.

No, he isn't. Love the nickname, though. It's clever. Especially coming from a guy who's phonebook listing would be "Wight, Dick".




I know he has denied the allegations of rape, but I seriously question the thought of any semi-intelligent woman with a decent set of spectacles would want to do the horizontal mambo with him.

Probably one that needs $2.99 for a terrible towel.




Everyone knows that Troy Polamalu looks like Michael Jackson. You know, like a woman. After seeing the stupid shampoo commercial, I now know that he sounds like MJ too. You know, like a woman. I hate him.

Seems to me like you hate women. You may want to get some counseling about that.




I hate Hines Ward. He cries about everything. He is not a good receiver. He is an idiot. I hate him. I would like nothing better than to see Rey Maualuga knock that disgusting smile from his face.  

Yeah, because we sure as fuck know that Keith Rivers ain't gonna do it.





I don't want to see anyone get hurt, but I wouldn't lose any sleep if he got his ugly face rearranged on Sunday.

Right, because you don't like, actually know him or anything.




The Hit 
I am not talking about a clean, hard hit on the field.  I am talking about the mafia-style hit that allowed these jerks to beat the Bengals in 2005.  When Kimo Von Imafatpieceofcrap rolled into Carson Palmer's knee, my hatred of this disgusting franchise grew to a new level.

Seriously? Kimo Von Imafatpieceofcrap? Humor is embarrassed right now and it's threatening to leave. I'm trying to console it. I'm trying to tell it that there aren't that many people like you out there and that it shouldn't get all bent out of shape when one person disrespects it like that. It's not listening and it just left. Damn it, Richard. Do you see what you are doing?!?!?!




The Fans 
Like I said before, most NFL fans can poke fun at each other at a sports bar and still have a good time. If these idiots are able to actually spit out a coherent thought, it most likely has something to do with the "one for the thumb" phrase they use every five seconds while waving that ridiculous yellow rag.

Hey idiot, one for the thumb was like, 4 years ago. But way to use the "omg Pittsburghers are so dumb!" angle. Clever. Fresh. SOOTHING. If humor were a yeast infection, Richard Wight would be like a 55-gallon drum of Vagisil.



After they put down there thumb and use their sleeve to wipe the hot sauce off of their face, the corresponding index finger is usually inserted into their nose. They don't wash their hands after they pee either.

HAHA they pick their nose all the time and then they touch their dicks and don't wash it off SO THEIR HANDS ARE ALWAYS COVERED IN PISS AND DICKS HAHAHAHA!!!!!!






They are the most vile people on the face of the earth. I hate them.

Take that, Sudanese refugees! Fuck Darfur. Ain't got nothin' on Steeler fans!




Besides, they don't even have any cheerleaders. Any woman that would shake her tookus for that team could probably start on the offensive line.

At least he realizes that the offensive line needs some help. Richard's idea of a hot woman lives in Cincinnati, so I'd take this sentence with a grain of retard.





I hate them.

Yeah, now let me hit some of that meth. WHO DEY?!?!?!

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Mike Florio's levels of magnitude



Mike Florio is the head honcho over at Profootballtalk, a site that has been pretty big over the past few years before blowing up recently and moving under the NBC umbrella. Well, while I do follow his site for the rumors which, regardless of what people say, seem to me to be correct more often than not (empirical observation, of course). That being said, however, Florio seems to have a penchant for posting absolutely asinine comparisons and observations for whatever reason...ratings, slow news days, just feels like he has to get things up because he's all NBC and shizz...and, as today's example was Stillers-related, I found myself taking extra umbrage at it's ridiculousness.



Will the Steelers put Jeff Reed on a short leash?

Uhhh...I don't think so. It was one game. He's been awesome for them for a few years now. What are we going to do if Reed is on a short leash? Go for it more? Have Sepulveda punt it through the uprights?




The Steelers have demonstrated a clear double standard of late as to players who get in trouble off the field.

They absolutely have. I'm not going to deny that. In fact, I've been on record as saying that the "Steeler Way" is nothing but a myth that we yinzers buy into just to pretend that we are above the fray when it comes to signing players of questionable chara....wait. HOLD ON ONE MINUTE. You aren't going where I think you are going with this, are you, Florio?








When receiver Cedrick Wilson allegedly roughed up his girlfriend, he was cut.  When linebacker James Harrison allegedly did the same thing, excuses were made on Harrison's behalf.

Right. That's absolutely true and it should pretty much shatter the "Steeler Player" myth that has been propagated about in the past. Both of these guys are wife-beaters, one just happens to be awesome (Harrison) while the other, for whatever reason, was never really embraced by the city (Wilson). I'm not going to get into this issue, though, because I don't see what it has to do with Jeff Reed missing field goals. Continue, Florio.




It's a common dynamic in sports.  Teams make examples out of guys they deem replaceable.  A separate set of rules applies to the stars.

I've gone into this before. It's not just sports. Listen, if you are a superstar accountant and you can fucking debit and credit like a maestro, you are going to get special treatment by your company when you go out and beat your wife (in most cases, at least). If you are a huge benefit to your company with your accounting, you will get a lot of leeway. However, if you always show up drunk, credit your debits and like, jizz all over your company's general ledger weekly, and then you go out and get arrested for indecent exposure at a local Taco Bell, you are probably going to get fired. It has nothing to do with sports. Whatever. Tell me how this would place Reed on the business end of a short leash, PFT.




And there's where kicker Jeff Reed comes in.  He arguably blew the game for the Steelers in Soldier Field on Sunday, missing twice in the fourth quarter.  In the offseason, he was arrested for beating up a paper towel dispenser.

Holy mother of fucking Christ, Florio. Holy. F-ing. Lord.

Are you legitimately comparing beating your fucking wife to getting drunk and breaking a PAPER FUCKING TOWEL DISPENSER???? Are you? Aren't you supposed to be a lawyer by trade? This is one of the dumbest comparisons I've ever heard in my life, and that's saying something because I've read Romeo Crennel's "Comparing Land Wars in Asia to Breeds of English Hunting Dogs" from cover to cover. One is a misdemeanor, punishable by like, a $600 fine. The other is BEATING YOUR FUCKING WIFE.

Let me amend my earlier comparison of accountants. Say you are the good accountant, and you don't hit your wife, but instead you get arrested for breaking a light in the street. You don't do any jail time, don't miss any time at work, your work isn't even affected. You pay a $600 fine and it goes away. You aren't getting fired. But then say you have a bad week at work three months later. You still probably wouldn't get fired...I mean, that happens to everybody. Now, the bad accountant, the guy who jizzes on your company's books, let's say he goes out and fucks the boss's 14 year old daughter in the company parking lot. Would he get fired? I don't know. Let's ask Florio.




At the time, the Steelers gave him a pass.  If he keeps missing key kicks, the incident could resurface as partial justification for giving him boot.

I'm sorry, I wasn't really paying attention because the part of my brain that processes information was busy declaring a jihad on my eyes. Are you now saying that if Jeff Reed keeps missing kicks, they are going to cut him not because he's, well, missing kicks, but because he's missing kicks AND punched a paper towel dispenser four months ago.




"Of course this is uncharacteristic of him," coach Mike Tomlin said. "He just kicked the game-winner in overtime last week, and that's what we're used to.  We aren't used to what happened with him today."

It was very characteristic of him, however, when he DIDN'T BEAT HIS WIFE.




Though it's highly unlikely that the Steelers will dump Reed after only one bad game, we'll be interested to see whether they fire a shot across the bow by bringing a couple of free agents to the practice facility on Tuesday to see how they swing their legs.

Would have as much to do with a Sheetz towel dispenser as John Holmes' AIDS had to do with the Michelson-Morley experiment, which showed that the Earth's atmosphere was not made out of "ether".




And if Reed doesn't turn it around quickly, he likely won't be around for his seven-year anniversary with the team in November, when he got a chance in 2002 due in part to the fact that the guy who had the job at the time wasn't very good at it.

Right. Because he'd be a field goal kicker who was missing a bunch of field goals. Not because he got drunk and beat on a wall-mounted piece of plastic.

I have a feeling there will be many more of these to come.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Fuck it. I'm pissing on his lawn.


Holy flying pearl necklaces, what in the name of Jim Kelly's left tit was that, McKelvin? How do you fumble the ball there? HOW DO YOU DROP THE ONLY THING YOU NEED TO CARRY!??!?!? If the emaciated remains of Patrick Swayze were alive, not even he would have fumbled the ball there! HOLD ON TO THE PIGSKIN! IT'S BASIC FOOTBALL!

GOD FUCKING DAMN IT. We're cursed. We're fucking cursed! I need to do something to turn around the curse and show that we Buffalonians are not going to stand around for these repeated fuck ups.

But what to do?

I could buy a McKelvin jersey and burn it. Or put it on a mannequin and hang it in effigy. But...that would cost a lot of money. Fuck that. We're in a recession. FUCKING THANKS OBAMA YOU KENYAN COCKHERDER! I want to stuff my cock in an envelope and MAIL IT TO YOUR FUCKING MOUTH!

I could keep yelling to no one in particular, but that doesn't seem like it would be too effective. I'd probably just be wasting my voice and wasting breath, which I'll probably be taxed on soon anyway.

Maybe I could start a petition to cut McKelvin? That would help send the message that these players will be held accountable for all of this shit that they fuck up....but, that ain't gonna go anywhere with that old fuck Wilson still in charge.

Damn it.

Wait. Yes. That's perfect.

I'm going to piss on his lawn.

Yeah! I'm going to drive out to this titfucker's house and then I'm going to fucking whip my dick out and start pissing on his lawn. I'm going to piss on his lawn until I've COMPLETELY RUN OUT OF PISS. Then I'm going to drink some piss that I've saved up and piss that piss back onto his lawn. I'm going to fill his lawn up with so much piss that he'll think he's living in R. Kelly's bedroom. HOLY FUCK AM I EVER GOING TO PISS. I'm going to put an ad on Craigslist asking people to send me piss that I can piss out on to his lawn. I'm going to start a pissbank, McKelvin, and then I'm going to deposit it all over your fucking lawn.

You know what? That's not even enough. After I'm done pissing, I'm going to spraypaint his fucking lawn.


 
 That oughta show him!

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Communication Breakdown



Great idea to have us all over to cook as a bonding experience, Coach Z!




No problem, Max. I think this is really going to help you guys communicate out there on the field. If you can communicate in the kitchen, you can communicate on the football field. Wade Phillips told me that once.





I hope you're right, coach...hey, can someone help me with my helmet?






Chris, you don't need the helmet. We're going to be making Caesar salads.

Alright, guys. I'll be in my office if anyone needs me. Let's see what you guys can come up with in an hour. Remember, communicate!







Alright guys, let's get this started. We'll go with a zone scheme here. Justin, you got the chicken. If there is too much chicken for you to hold, I'll slide over and help you pick up the rest of it. Kemo, make sure you prepare the lettuce. Again, if it gets to be too much, I'll slide over and help you with that. The whole time, Max, you are going to be dicing, ok? That's the most important job, because, like, that's what makes the salad, you know? You have the toughest job here. That's why you are making the big bucks. Trai, you'll be washing the food before we come into contact with it, alright? You should be able to handle that job by yourself, and if you get ahead you can help Justin or Kemo if I'm unavailable. Ok? We have to read the vegetables here.






Got it, Willie.

*begins to prepare chicken*






Let's do this, guys!

*Starts washing lettuce, hands lettuce to Kemo*





*fumbles lettuce*

DAMN IT!





Don't worry, Kemo, I'll wash it again.

*rewashes lettuce, hands it back to Kemo*





Let me help you with that, Kemo.

*Takes lettuce to Kemo*

Alright, we gotta pick it up, guys.





I've got nothing to dice!

And we don't have crutons or Caesar dressing!







Don't worry about the dressing and crutons, the back will pick that up.






Hey guys, I picked up the things you asked for!





Thanks, Fast Willie!





Willie, that's Ranch dressing! We need Caesar dressing!





Awww, my bad dog.

*trips over self*





Whatever, we don't have time. I still have nothing to dice.






I can't handle all of this chicken!

*chicken slips out of Hartwig's grasp*





I'll help you with that.





No, Max, you gotta dice! I'll help with the chicken!

No one's dicing!

*trips over Max while trying to help Hartwig, falls back into dicing area*





What's all the ruckus?

*accidentally stabbed by knife when Colon falls into it*

HOLYFUCKYOUJUSTSTABBEDME!!!!!!!!!







Willie, did you just stab Trai?!?!?!??!





It was an accident!





AHHHHHHHHHHHH!





We gotta tell Coach Z!





*Covered in sweat*

Ohhhhh yeahh....oh man this is the good stuff give it to me baby...you go get em Larry....ohhhh God....wait..what the fuck is that noise?





Coach, Trai just got stabbed...what are you doing? Are you jacking it to anime porn?





Uhhhh....no!





Then why is your dick out?





Huh? Oh, that, uhhh...my bad! It just slipped out.

It looks like you guys are going to continue to have communication problems, but I've got just the thing for you.





That's right, Coach. With the Verizon family plan, even you oafs can communicate with each other, absolutely free as long as you want on the Verizon network. You know, the one with the best coverage and fewest dropped calls. And all of these people behind me? That's your Verizon network. They can also confirm that your coach was indeed jacking it to anime porn.





Seriously, Coach Z? Anime?





*face gets red*

That's not important. The important thing is that you guys can communicate now. I'd suggest you call a hospital for Trai first.





Good idea.

*dials number on phone*

Justin, you there?





Uhhh, this is Kemo.





Oh. Do you know the number for the hospital?






Nah, man. Try asking Willie.





Ok.

*Dials again*

Willie?





This isn't Wille....HURRY UP AND GET ME TO A HOSPITAL!!!!!






God, this is gonna be a long year.