Ultimatim

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?

*sighs*

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 like...like 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 and...eh, 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.

*Sighs*

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


Fuck it.

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.

BUT THERE'S ONLY ONE PICTURE!

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.

AND IT WORKED!

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, but...is 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 did...you'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.

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?

"Hey, Vern...DID YOU SEE THE SIZE OF THAT CHICK'S CLIT?!??!?"

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

"YOU COULD SEE IT THROUGH THE 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.

From: http://www.musicbabylon.com

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.

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.

Ballin'!

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…

“HE PADS HIS STATS WITH LONG RUNS!!!”

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)

“WE’LL NEVER WIN A SUPER BOWL WITH WILLIE PARKER AS OUR STARTING TAILBACK!!!!”

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.”



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…

Losers: “WILLIE PARKER, WILLIE PARKER, WILLIE PARKER!!!”

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.

Hypocrites.

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 (www.aofg.blogs.com). Funny that I put someone's name in parentheses, eh "Vern"?

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.

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:

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.

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?!?!?!

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.

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!

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.