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.