Smitty's dead, Happy New Year!

Dear Pigskin Paloozers,

It is with a very heavy heart that I must inform you that Smitty is no longer with us. He died not-so-suddenly Sunday evening, just moments before the conclusion of the Bengals-Broncos game.
I was with him when he passed.

As the Bengals missed their point-after attempt late in the game, he jumped from the bed yelling, "WHAT WAS THAT?! WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT!?!?! GOD DAMMIT! WHAT THE FUCK!?!!" Then he ran into the bathroom, muttering something to himself, came back out, stared at the televison for a couple seconds, then said "Fuck me. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck." Then he marched back into the bathroom, pulled some Drano out from underneath the sink and just started guzzling it like he was Keith Richards with a bottle of vodka.

I would've called 911 but I was so exhausted & my legs were still shaking from all the sex we'd just had that, tragically, I could not get to the phone. Instead, I just told him how much I'd miss him and asked if he had any last words. He was straining to speak and I'm not sure if I heard him correctly but I believe his last words were "Damn the Niners, Damn them straight to Hell!", whatever that means. He also made me promise to do the weekly matchups for him. I don't know much about football but a promise is a promise so I'll give it a shot.

Also, he and I were supposed to go to New York next weekend to celebrate New Years Eve together at Times Square but it just doesn't feel right going without him. So, if any of y'all need a date, I'm free.
(PS There are no services scheduled, he wanted to be cremated and sprinkled in my panties drawer.)

Sincerely,


Mama Squintz





Saturday Night

Giants at Redskins-
Giants are real big. Like black weiners.



Sunday

Sex Panthers at Saints-
I like sex. Duh.



Browns at Texans-
Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the Don Criqui Game of the Week!


Uh, y'all I didn't type that, the keyboard just went by itself. Creepy.




Lions at Cowboys-
I once had a dream about giving oral to Jon Kitna. It was a great dream, until I woke myself up with a huge fart. I do that sometimes.



Jaguars at Chiefs-
I once gave head to the fire chief in the front seat of a Jaguar. We dated for a while but I had to break it off when I found out he didn't like Lynrd Skynrd. I just can't date no guy who doesn't like Lynrd Skynrd.



Patriots at Titans-
Oh how I love a bushy mustache.





Raiders at Jets-
J! E! T! S! Suck! Suck!! SUCK!!!



Steelers at Bengals-
Damn you Brad St. Louis, damn you straight to hell!



Seahawks at Bucs-
Have I ever told you about my days dancing at a topless bar in Tampa? Good times. It's where I got the syph for the first time.



Rams at Vikings-
Never been to Minnesota. Too cold there and my nips are extremely sensitive ever since I had them pierced.



Cardinals at Chargers-
I don't like the Chargers. Mostly cause their coach's daughter stole my younger boyfriend once. I was living in Oxford, Ohio and dating a skinny guy named Joe. He was kinda goofy but he was young & full of energy. Anyway, Marty Schottenheimer's daughter got him drunk & boned him like a dog. I never heard from him again. Bitch.



Falcons at Eagles-
I have to root for Atlanta because I'm currently dating a guy who plays for the Falcons. His name is Ron Mexico. I like him cause he has honest eyes.



Bills at Ravens-
Oh, my son used to love the Bills. He had an OJ Simpson poster when he was little & used to run around wearing a Bills helmet and his Joe Ferguson jersey. Him and my brother would play football in the backyard all the time. Most of the time the game would get rough and end with them having a tickle fight & then sharing a long hug before going inside to take a bath together.



Dolphins at Colts-
Back in '88 I spent the entire summer sailing on Dan Marino's yacht.
And by "sailing", I mean "riding".
And by "yacht", I mean "cock".



Niners at Broncos-
Damn those Broncos, damn them straight to hell!



Sunday Night

Packers at Bears-
I don't know who's gonna win this one or who's gonna win your little Palooza thingy but I sure hope it's not Matt Olson. That little fucker's on my shit list ever since he tried to pour hot sauce on my hoochie-koo. Plus, he still owes me fifty bucks. If he does win, deduct fifty and send it to me.

Happy New Year,

Mama S.

My Christmas List, the AMC Hornet, Uncle Ed's bowels, some crazy pogo-stickin', Carrot Top on the 'roids, and..... "My Dick in a Box"

Ho Ho Ho bitches! It's almost Christmas, it's sixty degrees outside, and I've only got three more days of work before an eleven-day vacation. That's the good news. The bad news is that my letter to Santa just came back to me in the mail on Friday. It seems I accidentally wrote the wrong zip code on the envelope. Seriously, the mailman couldn't figure it out anyway? I mean, how many North Poles could there be? Anyway, what that means is that Santa doesn't have my wish list yet. That's a problem. But luckily, I know from his emails that Zermy (one of Santa's elves) is a frequent reader of this blog. Zermy, I'm counting on you to pass along the following list to Santa ASAP, it's the only way I'm gonna get it to him in time. Just cut & paste, print it and throw it on his desk for me. Here goes....

Dear Santa,

I've been a moderately good boy this year (much better than last year) and since I know you're a big believer in effort & improvement, this year's list is slightly longer than last year's. I know I'm getting it to you kinda late so just do what you can. If some of the items are out of stock, you can just make it up to me next Christmas. So, if you would be so kind, I'd like the following:

a gas powered leaf blower
a new pair of hiking boots
some new socks
an ipod nano that doesn't melt when I plug it into my computer
a couple pair of silk boxers with "El Gigante" embroidered on the waist band
a five-game winning streak for the Bengals
fourteen 12x4 sheets of drywall
a $500 gift certificate to Chipotle
a chance meeting with Salma Hayek underneath the mistletoe
a new flat screen computer monitor
Wedding Crashers on DVD
a bottle of ruphynol
a strong rope
a shovel
peace on earth
a large sausage pizza with a hole in the middle
(that one's for you & me, Mama Squintz)
four tickets to the Super Bowl
a football autographed by Don Criqui
the services of three elves for a full day to put up some drywall
some new undershirts
peace of mind for Britney Spears
a peice of ass for my buddy Adam
a nine-iron to replace the one I threw into a tree last year
a riding lawn mower
two hours in a hot tub with the Swedish bikini team
four hours in a steam room with the Miami Dolphins Cheerleaders
a coffee-scented air freshener for my car
The Beastie Boys Solid Gold Hits cd
one of those cool Gorilla ladders
eight maids-a-milking
sunshine on my shoulder (it makes me happy)
a new sports watch
a new belt
a 52-inch high definition flat panel television
and, a big jar of honey


Thanks Santa. By the way, some of us guys chipped in to help you unwind after your busy day. You should be receiving a shipment via FedEx in the next day or two. It's an 8-ft tall pole. Just have the elves mount it somewhere close to your favorite recliner. You'll be getting a visit from a nice young lady named Brandi next Tuesday & she'll show you what it's for. Enjoy!

Your pal,

-Smitty




Now, on with the Week 16 Matchups....


Thursday Night

Vikings at Packers-
Ahhh, Christmastime in Green Bay. Hey kids look, it's Santa Claus! And he's handing out free cheese logs!!


Saturday Night

Chiefs at Raiders-
The funny thing isn't that the Raiders are 2-12, the funny thing is that the Raiders are 2-12 and there's still going to be a good percentage of Raider Nation dressed up like they're about to go onstage at a GWAR concert. I guess I can't totally blame them, though. I did the same thing when the Dukes of Hazard got cancelled. I was wearing half-unbuttoned flannel shirts, tight jeans, and hopping into my mom's AMC Hornet through the passenger window for another six months before I got through the denial period.





Sunday

Ravens at Steelers-
My Christmas wish is for this game to involve a lot of injuries. Lots & lots of serious injuries.



Sex Panthers at Falcons-
Jim Mora Jr said in a radio interview that his dream job is to be the head coach at the University of Washington. He went so far as to say that if offered the job, he'd take it even if it meant leaving the Falcons in the middle of a playoff run. In response, several Falcons players said that their dream job is to play for someone other than Jim Mora Jr.



Bears at Lions-
I was able to obtain some footage of a couple of Lions position coaches preparing for last week's game. Take a look....






Colts at Texans-
Time for this weeks quiz....
Why is Peyton Manning such a cum-guzzler?
A) Because I said so
B) Because his boyfriend said so
C) Because Eli said so
D) Because Archie said so
E) He's not, I'm just bitter because he thouroughly destroyed the Bengals on Monday Night Football a couple of hours ago

Answer: A, B, C, and D. Suck it, horseface!



Patriots at Jaguars-
The Jags are a strange team, aren't they? They've beaten the Colts, Cowboys, and Eagles but lost to the Bills, Titans, and twice to the Texans.... I think it's safe to say that they're about as inconsistent as my Uncle Ed's bowels after two oyster sandwiches and a bowl of clam chowder.



Saints at Giants-
The Giants seem to be the NFL equivalent of Paris Hilton. I know a whole lot about them even though they really haven't done a damn thing.



Buccaneers at Browns-
If this game were on CBS, it'd clearly be the Don Criqui Game of the Week.


But, it's not on CBS.
It's on FOX.
And I really have nothing to say about it.

Nothing.

.....Whaddya say we just act like it's not even on the schedule? Okay then.




Titans at Bills-
My sources tell me that Jeff Fisher's mustache consummated a deal with the devil without Fisher's knowledge. At first Fisher was pretty steamed, but now after four straight wins, he and his mustache are back on good terms and word has it that they were seen hanging out together last night.



Redskins at Rams-
All you need to know about the NFC is that the Rams are 6-8 and still in the wildcard race.



Cardinals at Niners-
Damn the Niners, damn them straight to Hell!



Bengals at Broncos-
Growing up, I knew a kid named Denver. He was fat & kinda stupid. Am I suggesting that all guys named Denver are fat & kinda stupid? Yes, yes I am. Also, all guys named Larry are smelly, all girls named Colleen have pig noses, and all girls named Penny are needy and have abandonment issues.



Chargers at Seahawks-
My old college roommate Joe asked me to pass along a Christmas gift to one of his former booty calls, Marty Schottenheimer's daughter. I don't want to give away what it is, but here's a little hint....


That almost singlehandedly makes up for the last two crappy seasons of SNL. You da man, Timberlake!





Christmas Day

Eagles at Cowboys-
Has anyone seen Jeff Garcia with his shirt off? Dude is ripped.


Wait a minute. Now that I look at it again, I'm not sure if that's Jeff Garcia, Carrot Top, or Mama Squintz. In any case it's quite disturbing and I sincerely apologize. Here, wash your eyes out with some of this....





Christmas Night

Jets at Dolphins-
Ahhh, nothing says "Feliz Navidad" like a football game in Miami.
Hey kids look, it's Santa Claus. And he's handing out free burritos & green cards!!
Wait, he's shouting something. It sounds like.....ah, si Santa, si.
Jota!-E!-Te!-Ese!, Chupan!, Chupan!, Chupan!!


Merry Christmas!

Over-hyping ape fists, Jim Belushi, Lance Bass, Sable's slobberknockers, the hoodie, the Shit Hammer, and the New 2007 GMC Sierra

Remember when ESPN was an infant? It was so cute, broadcasting tough man competitions from the middle of Nebraska, college lacrosse games in Vermont, putt-putt tournaments from the suburbs of Baltimore, roller derby in Oxnard, calf-roping from supermarket parking lots in western El Paso, and doing it all simply for the love of the games, and of course some panic-induced desperation to fill their time slots. Sure, most of the programming sucked, but at least it was about sport. Kinda. Now it’ more about pomp & circumstance and taking the opportunity to beat their oversized chest every chance they get. ESPN’s like a chimp that wandered into a toxic swamp and returned as an eighty foot tall super land ape with sharp fangs, radioactive blood, and a satellite signal. It’s like King Kong with a huge ego problem. Don't get me wrong, I like a lot of things ESPN does and the man world is truly a better place with ESPN in it, but sometimes the beast needlessly smashes things to bits with its enormously over-hyping ape fists.

Case in point: At the beginning of Monday Night Football this evening, ESPN, feeling somehow obligated to start off the telecast with a cute celebrity-inspired intro, staged a poorly-written bit starring Barack Obama. Who? Exactly. Apparently he’s the african-american-muslim-democrat senator from Illinois. And apparently somebody high up on the ESPN food chain decided to give him sixty seconds of air time and chalk it up as a campaign contribution. It sucked. It sucked, he sucked, and whoever’s idea it was sucks out loud. If that wasn’t bad enough (and it was), it was immediately followed by a computer-generated opening set to music, featuring the new 2007 GMC Sierra. That’s right, no players, no coaches, no cheerleaders, just computer-generated players running around a computer-generated city with no less than six extremely blatant product placements for The New 2007 GMC Sierra! Following this piece of shit, ESPN subjected us to Jim Belushi (you know, the painfully unfunny fat guy who just happens to have a show on ABC which just so happens to be owned by the same parent company as ESPN) spewing some crap about Chicago (you know, the city he loves so much that he’s lived in LA for the past twenty years) while picking up a computer-generated glowing football helmet in the middle of the computer-generated city. Fantastic. All this and we haven’t even gotten to the old, tired, and completely played-out Are You Ready For Some Football?! ditty yet. I felt disgusting just by association. Now I know how Sable felt when King Kong Bundy groped her slobberknockers in Wrestlemania IX. Get your dirty ape hands off of me!

After taking a quick shower to wash off the stench of over-commercialization and network inbreeding, I was welcomed back to the sight of the broadcast team. To our right we have Joe Theeezman, who’s last solid point was his tibia when it was poking out of his sock against the Giants twenty one years ago. In the middle we have Tony Kornheiser. Tony’s okay, but for a man who makes a living out of pointing out the faults, flaws, and bad decisions of others, how in the hell does he walk away from his mirror each day thinking that combing four hairs across the top of his otherwise bald head is a good idea? And to our left is Mike Tirico. Mike’s not bad. Actually, I think he’s one of the better white play-by-play guys around. And finally, let’s not forget the sideline reporters; Michelle Tafoya and Suzy Kolber. One’s ugly and unoriginal, the other is unoriginal and ugly. Apparently this is the best the eighty foot tall land ape could do for a broadcast team? And I haven’t even gotten to the studio crew yet. Michael Irvin’s tied for dumbest man on the planet with the crazy homeless dude who rummages through the garbage outside of my office building, Steve Young is the dullest man on the planet, and Chris Berman is a case study in both uber ego-centricity and vocal narcissism. The only saving grace is that Stuart Scott isn't involved with the broadcast. Yet.

Fuck these fuckin' fuckers. Fuck them for fucking-up Monday Night Football.

Whatever happened to that sweet, innocent, infant channel with a glean in its' eye and a penchant for competitive eating? Where is the purity? Where is the passion? Where in the hell is Charlie Steiner? Come on, somebody grab some tranquilizer darts and take down this huge ape. We'll throw its lifeless body into the back of a New 2007 GMC Sierra, drive it over to Jim Belushi's Beverly Hills home, choke him to death with an extra-long Chicago-style hot dog, steal his circular saw & use it to open the ape's skull and remove its' enormous ego.

Now, on with the Week 15 Matchups...


Thursday Night

Niners at Seahawks-
Damn the Niners, damn them straight to Hell!



Saturday Night

Cowboys at Falcons-
Two weeks ago when Grammatica 1 booted the winning field goal for the 'Boys, Parcells pulled off the Bowel Trifecta by simulataneously pissing, shitting, and cumming in his pants all at the same time? Last week, while watching Brees & Bush kill his defense, he pulled off the Alternate Bowel Trifecta by pissing, shitting, and secreting blood into his pants all at the same time. I can only imagine what'll come out this week.



Sunday

Browns at Ravens-
The Romeo Crennel Farewell Tour heads to Baltimore!



Lions at Packers-
Wow, Kitna vs Favre. There's gonna so many balls batted around & tossed up for grabs in this one.....it'll be like a Saturday night in Lance Bass' hotel suite during Key West's annual Gay Pride Festival.





Texans at Patriots-
You know what was the most amazing thing about the Pats getting shutout last Sunday by the Dolphins? That Bellichek was wearing his hoodie. In Miami.
I'm asking, no, I'm begging for someone at CBS Sports to interview him about the hoodie. Is it a superstition thing? Does he think it has special powers? Did he lose a bet? Is it his woobie? Is it a fashion statement gone too far? I need answers!



Jaguars at Titans-
Don't look now but the Titans have miraculously won six of their last seven games.
The lesson, as always: Never, EVER underestimate the power of Jeff Fischer's mustache.



Dolphins at Bills-
Bills wide receiver Lee Evans is good. Real good. So good in fact that I have to wonder, which is wide open more often, Lee Evans or Britney Spears' legs?



Jets at Vikings-
J!-E!-T!-S! Suck! Suck!! SUCK!!!



Steelers at Sex Panthers-
A lot of experts picked the Steelers and Panthers to meet in this year's Super Bowl.
Me? I picked the Chiefs and the Falcons. Just goes to show that you don't have to be an expert to be a moron.



Buccaneers at Bears-
There is joy in the streets of Chicago today as people can be heard shouting with glee, "Rex Grossman is mediocre again! He's back up to mediocre! Thanks be to God.....HALLELUIAH!!!"



Redskins at Saints-
Has anybody seen Dolemite Jenkins lately?





Broncos at Cardinals-
The Jay Cutler Experiment goes into the desert for some more intensive testing. Meanwhile, the recent success of the Cardinals has put The Denny Green Farewell Tour on hold. Also, and not surprisingly, news of the farewll tour being placed on hold has caused stock in Glendale-area donut shops and pancake houses to rise back up to their previous mid-year levels.



Eagles at Giants-
You know that joke I made earlier about balls batted around and George Michael's hotel room? Would it have been funnier if I'd have used Jeff Garcia instead of Lance Bass?
It would've, wouldn't it?
Dammit!



Rams at Raiders-
Zzzzzzzzzz......



Chiefs at Chargers-
Time for this week's quick quiz...

What does "Schottenheimer" mean in German?
A) Marksman
B) Shot Putter
C) Shit Hammer
D) Nazi Whore
E) Nazi Shit Putter

Answer: I honestly don't know. But I do know that Marty's daughter had a one-night bone-a-thon with my old college roommate back in '91. Good times.


Monday Night

Bengals at Colts-


WHO DEY, BABY!

The Victory Piss, the Vickettes, The Da Vinci Code, Footloose, the Bowel Trifecta, and the Ellen Griswald Face

I’ve been told that there are two types of people in this world; people who see the glass as half full and people who see the glass as half empty. Me? I not only see it as half empty but I’m wondering where in the hell our waitress is and why she hasn’t come around to refill mine yet. You see, it’s not about having a positive or negative outlook; it’s about always wanting more and never quite being completely satisfied. You stop and smell your roses Forrest, I’ll be over here feeding mine Miracle-Gro and sharpening their thorns with the horns of the bull that I’m using to provide the bunny hills of fresh fertilizer for ‘em each & every morning. Bigger roses, thicker steaks, larger bank accounts, more powerful tools, faster cars, …. It’s all about staying ahead of the game.

And it’s also about anxiety. The glass isn’t just half empty; more accurately, it’s halfway to being completely empty. Full is good, empty sucks. If you don’t believe me, go ask Chief Broken Gauges. He’s the shivering moron walking along the highway in the middle of winter with an empty gas can in one hand and an uncharged cell phone in the other. Full, good. Empty, not so good. That’s why I make sure to top-off my tank every chance I get. Sure, the plethora of $1.60 charges to my debit card is a little cumbersome when I go to balance my checkbook, but what can I say, I don’t want to run out of gas plus I love the scene at the quickie marts- Pimply Joe studying for his GED in-between cashing-out customers, the sweaty manager stocking the counter with more beef jerky, the beer delivery guy impatiently waiting for the sweaty manager to come over and sign for his shipment, the crazy homeless lady taking up counter space scratching off her loser Pot O’ Gold lottery tickets, Pimply Joe’s friends waiting in the parking lot for the manager to go into the back closet, I mean office, so they can come in and get Pimply Joe to sell ‘em a twelve of Keystone Light & three soft packs of Camels, the giggly high school girl chatting on her Blackberry & accidentally putting Diesel fuel into the new VW Beetle she got from daddy for passing her latest Phys Ed exam, and of course the weirdo in the Barney t-shirt who’s buying a curious combination of candy bars, baseball cards, cheap beer, the latest issue of Teen Beat, and a pack of condoms. And it’s all happening amidst the glow of a couple dozen 40,000 watt halogen lights and the sweet smell of gasoline and hopeless despair.

Where in the hell was I? Oh yeah- Full good, Empty bad.
No tank is too full, no fridge is too stocked, no pantry too packed, no bar is too backed, no set of breasts are too stacked…..
And, no lead is too safe.

I was out with the fellas to watch the football game last Thursday night and Johnny B pointed out my Defcon 4 Level of anxiety over the Bengals only having a 13-point lead with less than three minutes to play. I wasn’t alone in my anxiety; Jimmy and I were both lamenting the fact that the lead “should be at least twenty points right now”. We were running down the list of missed opportunities and discussing the variety of ways in which we were prepared to kill ourselves should the Bengals wind up losing the game.

Now, while I’m not sure where the need to make sure I don’t run out of something comes from (other than common sense and genetics- my Grandma Ruoff kept three 20 ft-long shelves full of boxed food & canned goods down in her basement at all times), I do know where the No Lead is Too Safe ideology comes from. You see, I’ve been a Bengals fan my whole life and I’ve lived through the Shula-Coslet-LeBeau regimes (or, as I like to call them, the first, second, and third inner rings of Hell). Vietnam vets sometimes have trouble with the sound of helicopters, long-time Bengal fans have trouble with the sound of Don Criqui’s voice. ...And feeling comfortable when our team has a lead. There’s an old saying that goes, “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Fool me three times and I swear to God I’m gonna put my Who Dey Hanky in the closet until you guys win again.”

Look, I know this isn’t life-or-death stuff we’re talking about here but it’s part of what makes us who we are. Someone else might be a “glass half full” guy because he grew up a Cowboys fan with a dad who accidentally struck oil in their side yard, I’m a “glass half empty” guy because I grew up a Bengals fan and my grandma stocked her basement like it was a bomb shelter. Neither is necessarily good or bad, or either one better than the other, they just are what they are. But all things considered, I’ll stick with the glass half empty crowd. Sure, the glass half full people will experience less anxiety, actually enjoy watching their team play, and enjoy smelling their relatively smallish roses but there’s nothing quite like agonizing over your team’s precarious lead only to see them unexpectedly hang on for the victory. The relief is like taking a piss after downing a few tall boys and holding them in your bladder for a couple of hours. Aaaaaahhhhhh, the Victory Piss. The glass half full people will never experience that.
And I’ll never be walking with a gas can on the side of the highway.



Now, on with the Week 14 Matchups...


Thursday Night

Browns at Steelers-
Too bad this one can only be seen on the NFL Network. Now only 14 million people can choose not to watch it.



Falcons at Buccaneers-
Well, looks like the Falcons are back in the playoff hunt. What a strange season for Vick & the Vickettes; first they sucked, then they were unbeatable, then they sucked, now they're winning again. They're more on-again, off-again than the Paris Hilton-Nichole Richie friendship.



Ravens at Chiefs-
Speaking on behalf of all of Bengal Nation, I would like to sincerely thank Brian Billick for taking over the Ravens offense. Way to go, genius!



Colts at Jaguars-
The Colts left home field advantage and their dignity in Tennessee last Sunday. This week, they'll try to get out of Jacksonville without losing their self respect and their virginity as well.



Vikings at Lions-
The Vikings suffered a heart-breaking loss to the Bears on Sunday. This week, they'll do what all teams do when they absolutely, positively have to get back on the winning track- they'll go play the Lions.



Patriots at Dolphins-
You know what I like about Miami? I like that it stays warm enough all season long for their cheerleaders to dress like this:





Giants at Sex Panthers-
Hasn't Tom Coughlin ever seen Footloose? You push discipline on the kids too hard & they'll rebel on your ass. Mindless personal fouls, calling each other out in the locker room, questioning game plans.... Pretty soon they'll start dancing.... With girls!



Raiders at Bengals-
Should be a cake walk for the Bengals, but of course until they have an insurmountable lead, I will be thinking up ways to kill myself should they find a way to lose (and by "insurmountable" I mean 35 points with less than a minute remaining).
By the way, who came up with the term "cake walk"? Who the hell walks through cake? Why would anyone walk through cake? Seriously, I've said it before & I'll say it again, we need a weekly tv show that figures out where this kind of shit came from.



Eagles at Redskins-
Garcia. Campbell. It's the Eagles versus the Redskins playing out the string, this Sunday only on FOX!



Titans at Texans-
Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the Don Criqui Game of the Week!




Packers at Niners-
Damn the Niners, damn them straight to hell!




Seahawks at Cardinals-
Time for this week's quiz....
Who's faster?
A) Larry Fitzgerald
B) Shaun ALexander
C) Edgerrin James
D) A greased Denny Green sliding down a flag pole
E) Ooh, gross

Answer: D) and E)





Bills at Jets-
J!-E!-T!-S!, Suck! Suck!! SUCK!!!




Broncos at Chargers-
I rented The Da Vinci Code on dvd the other day. Good movie. In case you haven't seen the movie or read the book, it's based on the premise that Mary Magdalen went from common street whore to being the wife of Jesus and mother of his child. Sure, it's a bit of a stretch but it's nice in that it gives hope to whores all across the world, like Marty Schottenheimer's daughter. Too bad for her that my college roommate Joe wasn't the Son of God.



Saints at Cowboys-
Did you see the look on Parcell's face when Grammatica 1 kicked the game-winning field goal against the Giants? I think he pulled off the coveted Bowel Trifecta by pissing, shitting, and cumming in his pants all at the same time. I'm sure that made for a nice jog off the field.



Monday Night

Bears at Rams-
After the last couple games the Bears players have been wearing the Ellen Griswald Face. You know, the look Ellen sported about halfway through the trip when she finally realized that Clark really was the bumbling fool she'd always suspected him to be and that there was no way in hell they were all going to make it to Wallyworld alive in the pea green family truckster.
Yep, Rex Grossman is the Bears' Clark, Griese is Uncle Eddie, and the fans are Aunt Edna. Sorry folks, park's closed. Uh-huh, Uh-huh.