Show me, don't tell me, You've figured out the score...Show me, don't tell me, I've heard it all before...Show me, don't tell me, I don't care what you say...Show me, don't tell me...You can twist perceptions, Reality won't budge...You can raise objections, I will be the judge...And the jury...I'll give it due reflection, Watching from the fence...Give the jury direction, Based on the evidence...I, the jury...Show, Don't tell

Dec 23, 2008

Christmas shopping with Smitty and Johnny B

So here we are looking ahead to the last Sunday of the NFL’s 2008 regular season. Some teams have surprised us in a good way (Atlanta, Miami, Baltimore), some have surprised in a bad way (Jacksonville, Cleveland, Seattle), and some, to quote Denny Green, “Were who we thought they were!!!” (Giants, Steelers, Lions, Raiders). Surprisingly, there wasn’t much in the way of off-the-field issues this season. Well, except for that little self-inflicted gunshot wound to Plaxico Burris. But that aside, up until two weeks ago, we hadn’t heard a peep out of Terrell Owens or Clinton Portis. And the rest of the usual suspects- Ocho Cinco, Pac Man Jones, Phillip Rivers, Larry Johnson, Kellen Winslow, etc.- have been amazingly quiet and issue-free this season. As a reward for this good behavior, I’ve decided to load up the sleigh and deliver some Christmas presents all across the NFL this year. And to help me with the shopping, I’ve brought Johnny B along for the ride. (He drives a big van, usually carries extra candy canes, and his hair smells like cinnamon, so he’s really the perfect holiday shopping companion.)

Smitty: Johnny B, you there?

Johnny B: I'm here.

Smitty: You ready to go?

Johnny B: I’m as ready as Rosie O’Donnell at a Vegas buffet.

Smitty: Disgusting. Let's do some NFL Christmas shopping! First of all, before we get started, Merry Christmas to you and the entire B family. Anything special going on in the B house this holiday season?

Johnny B: Merry Christmas to you and yours. We do Christmas here on the 24th, then to my Dad's that night. Then it's an exhilirating thrill ride up to Columbus for the wife's family.

Smitty: Sounds, uh, great. Not as great as taking in a special holiday donkey show in Tijuana whilst sipping Jack & Nog bombs, but whatever.

Johnny B: That's what we do at our Saylor Park Christmas with my Dad's third wife and my denounced step brothers the first Saturday after Three Kings Day.

Smitty: Three Kings? You mean Little Kings Day? Get all hopped up on cheap malt liquor and go to Western Bowl for a few frames?

Johnny B: Three Kings Day! Mexican Christmas... never heard of it? It's a lot like Kwaanza but the corn has pimento.

Smitty: I thought Mexican Christmas was Cinco de Mayo. Or is that their 4th of July? Whatev. You ready to do some gift giving? We've got 16 games, 32 teams, and, like Santa, we're on a tight schedule here. Slide your skinny ass down the chimney for the Rams at the Falcons. What's in the bag?

Johnny B: I don't know what's in the bag but I do know what's in the Three Kings Trinity cake. Guess who??? Baby Jesus!

Smitty: It looks like Baby Jesus is holding a dildo.

Johnny B: I asked Him to bring Mamma Squintz a gift from the top of her list. Another answered prayer.

Smitty: If he throws in a ball-gag and some nipple clamps, she can cross off the top three. So nothing for the Falcons or Rams? No, wait, I've got something for each. For Super Ginger Kid Matt Ryan, I've got a huge gingerbread house for him to chill in. As for the Rams, they simply get the 2nd pick in the draft. Again.

On to the Patriots at the Bills. I say hoodies all around to the Pats. They lose Brady and still might win the division.

Johnny B: Gingerhouse for a ginger kid. Priceless. For the Bills, I say Santa takes them back to the North Pole and we'll call them the Arctic Chokes.

Smitty: I hate artichokes. Actually, I'm not much of a vegetable eater, period. I guess that's why I couldn't carry on my relationship with my first wife after the accident.

Johnny B: And it’s why I had to step in and satisfy her with weekly bedside visits to the ICU.

Smitty: That’ll be an interesting conversation between you and God someday.

Johnny B: I hope to skip that conversation and talk to him about why he let hair metal die an untimely early death.

Smitty: Amen. Speaking of an early death, I’m going to the Bengals game this Sunday with the Plain White Rapper. We’re both super-stoked to see these two dead teams walking. Actually, I’m super-stoked to get outta the house for some guy time.

Johnny B: Uh, “guy time”?

Smitty: Fuck you, Bilbo. Chiefs at Bengals. You know what, I think I’m gonna shop for the Bengals like MFB does. I’ll go after Christmas and pick through the leftovers. Maybe get Carson Palmer a new O-Line made up of journeymen and a couple more late round draft picks.. Or I could just get them all gift certificates to Chuck E Cheese.

Johnny B: The Bengals are pathetic. But there not the only suspect questionable team out there. Smitty, I know you secretly love the Chiefs. But I've got a question for ya... What do you call 47 millionaires around a TV watching the Super Bowl? DING! DING! DING! The Kansas City Chiefs.

Smitty: The Chiefs haven't been to a Super Bowl since Van Buren was president. But at least they've been there, …and won it. Speaking of pathetic, the Lions travel to Green Bay, their final stop on the Quest for 0-16. I'm going to go ahead and get them what everyone else is asking for in Detroit lately– a bailout. I’ll give ‘em fifty bucks in one of them Hallmark Christmas cards with the sarcastic old cartoon lady on it. But in return, they have to agree to secede from the NFL and go play in Canada.

Johnny B: I’m going to get the Packers a six pack of I Told You So soda. You don’t trade a legend like Favre. Now what do they have to do up in Green Bay? Watch each other finger-fuck a block of swiss cheese? Go cow-tipping?

Smitty: I think they play a lot of Yahtzee and dance to polka music.

Johnny B: Which brings us to the Browns at Steelers. May Santa bring an ass-kicking to Turdlessburger this weekend. Not that I'm still bitter.

Smitty: I'm gonna ask Santa if I can borrow one of the mean, reject reindeer, fly to Hines Ward's crib, smash through his bedroom window and go hoof-first into his big-ass teef. Then I'll watch from a chair in a darkened corner as he's reindeer-raped. When it’s over and he’s lying there weeping, I’ll set down my glass of scotch, stand from my chair, shoot the reindeer, and remind him that “This never happened”. And no, I'm not bitter, either.

Johnny B: Sometimes I just don’t even know if you’re kidding. Do we need to take a break? I'm about as energetic as a Las Vegas whore at sunrise.

Smitty: You need some of that 5 Hour Energy shit that your buddy Braylon Edwards is peddling. Grab a Red Bull from the fridge and mix it with some vodka from the flask your wife's hiding in the linen closet (don't ask me how I know, I just do) and keep up. I’m gonna’ hit the fridge for some leftover KFC and a Coke. Meet you back here in ten.

(twelve minutes later…)

Smitty: Johnny, your not-so-secret favorite team, the Titans are at the Colts. Jeff Fisher gets what I always get him- a year’s supply of mustache wax. Which he never uses. I text him all the time, asking him to grease it up, 1800’s-style and pull the ends out. He’d look badass, like Daniel Day Lewis in The Gangs of New York. Didn’t he also wear his face fur like that in There Will Be Blood? “I drink your milkshake, Payton Manning, I drink it up!

Johnny B: I haven’t seen that movie. I heard it’s good.

Smitty: Good but not as good as The Gangs of New York.

Johnny B: You just like that one because of Leo Dicaprio.

Smitty: He’s a cutie.

Johnny B: Is he a bear or a tink?

Smitty: A tink, definitely. But if put with another tink, he’d take the bear role.

Johnny B: I was kinda kidding.

Smitty: Oh.

Bears at Texans. Chicago fans want what they always want- a decent quarterback. But just because Cub fans are a-holes, I give them another year of Kyle Orton and a gift certificate to Nathan’s hot dog stand. And the Texans, they have to promise to never, ever, wear their all red uni combo ever again or they ain’t getting’ shit from Santa Smitty. Did you like the all-red duds? I was watching one of their big, fat O-linemen running and I could’ve sworn I heard someone yell, “Hey, Kool-Aid!”

Johnny B: I thought they looked like eleven used tampons running around the field. But, it beats the Browns all-brown Mr. Hanky look from last year.

Smitty: If it’s brown…

Johnny B: …flush it down.

Smitty: You….complete me.

Johnny B: You’re gay.

Smitty: The G(ay) Men are at the Vikings this Sunday. It’s a must-win for the Vikes. Hey, because I’m catholic, I know that Christmas is Jesus’ birthday. Does that mean that it’s also Purple Jesus’ birthday?

Johnny B: I don’t know.

Smitty: Purple Jesus gets gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Eli Manning gets twenty bucks to go get a decent haircut that doesn’t make him look like a nine year old. Whenever I see a head shot of him on tv, I expect them to pan down to show he’s wearing Garanimals.

Johnny B: I expect them to pan down to show he’s wearing footie pajamas.

Smitty: The Panthers are at the Saints. And speaking of haircuts, I’m hitching my sleigh to Jake Delhomme and the Panthers for the playoffs. I may even toss a little Sex Panther cologne under their tree. You down with the black cats?

Johnny B: I’m almost always down for some black-haired pussy.

Smitty: Raiders at Buccaneers. What do you get for the owner who’s got everything, except his sanity? How about a straightjacket for Al Davis with “Committed to Excellent care” embroidered on the back?

Johnny B: I’m getting Jeff Garcia an extension on his subscription to Playgirl and a movie pass to see Milk.

Smitty: Garcia’s not gay.

Johnny B: You told me he was.

Smitty: I tell you lots of things.

Johnny B: Tell me about the Seahawks at the Cardinals.

Smitty: I’m wrapping the Cardinals present right now- a brand new, state-of-the-art tourniquet to stop the bleeding. I mean, what the hell happened to thm? Did Kurt Warner’s deal with the devil expire early? My sources said it was good through at least mid-January. Maybe he missed a payment.

Johnny B: Speaking of the devil, Ray Lewis and his posse are beating people up again. I’m thinking of getting them an attorney for Christmas.

Smitty: Hmmm…Jaguars at Ravens. Ravens D-coordinator gets a wink and a nod from Santa Smitty ‘cause it’s now more obvious than ever that he’s the straw that stirs the drink in Charm City. Somebody please get him a head coaching position somewhere else so the Ravens can start sucking. As for the Jags, I’ll get them a signed okay from the commish to relocate to LA, or Portland, or Vegas. They weren’t selling out games in J-Ville even when they were good. Time to move on.

Johnny B: I’d move ‘em to Duluth. After touchdowns, they could sing “Du-luth, Du-luth, Du-luth is on fire!

Smitty: Dolphins at Jets. If I’m the owner of the Dolphins, I put a lifetime contract under Bill Parcell’s tree. And a box of canollis. First year there as GM and he turns them from 1-15 to 10-5 and one win away from division champs.

Johnny B: If I’m the owner of the Dolphins, I’m sitting on South Beach with four breast-enhanced beach babes and sipping Waboritas til’ 4am every night.

Smitty: Your man-crush on Sammy Hagar always finds a way to make an appearance.

Johnny B: What can I say. He holds the key to my Three Lock Box.

Smitty: Sammy’s cool. At least he’s enjoying life. He’s not a bitter old man like Eddie or an insane vagrant like David Lee Roth. (Caution: foreshadowing) If Van Halen/Van Hagar was/were the Cowboys, I think Eddie would be T.O., Alex would be Marion Barber, David Lee would be Pac Man Jones, Michael Anthony would be Witten, and Sammy would be Romo.

Johnny B: Sammy would be the photographer for the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders.

Smitty: You’re right. So, Cowboys at Eagles. I'm getting Romo a new girlfriend. Jessica Simpson's hot but there are plenty of hot broads he can get his hands on. She's brought his game down from day one. Having her around is like carrying the cursed idol from the Brady Bunch's Hawaiian vacation.

Johnny B: I'm getting Andy Reid a WeightWatchers membership.

Smitty: Good call. Hey, Skins at Niners. The Niners get nothing for Christmas. Ever. I’ll get the Skins tickets to the presidential inauguration to see your homie Barack get sworn in.

Johnny B: I’m trying to forget about it and move on. I’ve got more pressing concerns. Like how I’m going to raise enough money to buy myself an Illinois or New York senate seat.

Smitty: It looks like Al Franken, Caroline Kennedy, and Jesse Jackson Jr may all be in the senate, joining Barney Frank, Chris Dodd, Harry Reid, and Nancy Pelosi. Yeah, this is gonna’ turn out just fine.

Johnny B: We can always move to Austrailia.

Smitty: How about New Zealand? They have four-day work weeks and get an average of twelve weeks vacation.

Johnny B: Sounds like a strong union contract.

Smitty: Speaking of contracts, I’m getting Jay Cutler an extension on his contract for Christmas. The donkeys have melted down and will now probably miss the playoffs but it’s not his fault, their defense su-ucks.

Johnny B: The Broncos at the Chargers, eh? The Broncos are my other favorite team but you’re right, their defense is horrible. I’m getting them a new D-Line for Christmas, just in time to beat the Chargers this Sunday night.

Smitty: That’s it, Johnny. We’ve made it through our shopping list and, in the process, the Week 17 matchups. And as a sign of my appreciation, a couple gifts for you. A Denver Broncos cheerleader and a bottle of Cabo Wabo tequila.

Johnny B: Good Lord. And for you, two Corona cans and a salute for another year in the books.

Smitty: Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

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