Ball-Licking, Cinnamony Yams, Mike Brown, Moving to Yuma, Charger Girls, Raven Guys, Jodie Foster, Salma Hayek, and the bittersweet smell of 0-16

No time for me to wax eloquently this week. Not even enough time for me to wax my balls. Can you wax your balls? You can shave 'em. I highly recommend that. And I'm not just trying to be funny. Dr. Evil was right, there really is nothing like a shorn scrotum. I'm telling you, you want your woman to lick your balls, shave your scrotum. I think I've said too much. Here's are some quick Turkey Day cooking tips that will hopefully make you forget what I just said, then it's on with the matchups....





Turkey Day

Packers at Lions-
I’m thankful for cheese. And holidays in Detroit. Nothing says the holidays quite like violent crime in a depressed urban area. Hey grandpa, could you please pass the stuffing….and while you’re at it, call 911, a stray bullet just tore through Aunt Sally’s rib cage. Wow, who made the yams this year? They are awesome! So cinnamonny.



Jets at Cowboys-
I’m thankful for cowgirls. And pasties.






Colts at Falcons-
I’m thankful that I didn’t drop $85 on a Mike Vick jersey last winter. I’m not so thankful that I instead dropped that $85 on a round of Jager bombs and eight minutes at the blackjack table. I got busted on more 13’s and 14’s that night. It was like an episode of To Catch a Predator.


Sunday

Titans at Bengals-
I’m thankful for Jeff Fisher’s big ol’ cookie duster. I’m also thankful for the slow anal rape that Mike Brown has been administering to us for the last 17 years. We ran out of KY Jelly about 13 years ago but, God love him, he just keeps on thrusting it up in there. When you stop Mikey, and some day you’ll have to, I’m gonna commission someone to make a huge shovel made of solid titanium and I’m going to kabong it into your enormous pasty forehead. Then, I’ll take a dump on the indentation and hire gimps to violate your ear holes. Oh, and I’m also thankful for my anger management classes.



Bills at Jaguars-
I’m thankful teams whose nickname begins with the same letter as the city they play in. Except for the Chicago Cubs. Fuck the Cubs.
Oh, and I also like halfbacks with three names who knock the snot out of former steroid users...





Raiders at Chiefs-
I’m thankful that I no longer have a mullet.





Seahawks at Rams-
I’m thankful for bald quarterbacks.



Whoops, my bad. Honest mistake. Here ya go...







Redskins at Buccaneers-
I’m thankful pirate ships and treasure chests. Especially treasure chests. But mostly just chests. Big chests. Big and healthy, with large, glorious nipples. Hey look, whaddya know, a visual example…






Texans at Browns-
I’m thankful that I don’t live in Cleveland. I’m also thankful that we finally got the details on Derek Anderson’s deal with the devil. According to documents illegally obtained by Palooza insiders, Anderson gets one Pro Bowl season in exchange for his soul (duh), a kidney from his first born child, a Browns replica helmet autographed by Jim Brown, a case of Natural Light, and two courtside seats to the next Cavs-Pistons game in Cleveland (Satan’s from Detroit).



Saints at Panthers-
I’m thankful that my girlfriend dumped that loser Reggie Bush to go out with me.
Screw you, Reggie. Go share a Subway sub with Jared. I'm going to treat Kim to a hot beef sub with man sauce.






Niners at Cardinals-
I’m thankful for the University of Phoenix. Not only is it the namesake of the Cardinals beautiful new stadium, it’s also the online college that makes dreams come true. And I’m proud to announce that after a mere 36 months as a University of Phoenix correspondence student, Mama Squintz has just earned an associate’s degree in Trailer Park Management. She’s asked me and my girlfriend Kim Kardashian to move with her to Yuma where she’s been offered a position as manager of a twenty five trailer community. It pays $26,000 per year guaranteed and her very own double wide, including utilities. Kim says she’s not going but I’ve got a bottle of Roofies and some rope that say she’s at least going to give it a try.


Vikings at Giants-
I’m thankful that my parents didn’t name me Eli. Or Tavarius. Or Plaxico.



Ravens at Chargers-
I’m thankful for the Charger Girls.




The Ravens Guys, not so much.







Broncos at Bears-
I’m thankful for Denver omelets. And Chicago-style pizza. And Alka Seltzer.



Eagles at Patriots-
I’m thankful for the dream I had last night. No, not the one about Jodie Foster and a vibrating iPhone. That was Johnny B’s dream. What? No, not the one about being held prisoner by a band of disgruntled busty latina maids led by Salma Hayek. Yes, that one was mine but…. Yeah, I know, it did kick ass but…. I know, the part when the blonde one snuck into my cell in the middle of the night and started taking off…. Okay stop. I’m talking about the dream where the Patriots decide to run up the score one-too-many times and an opposing roid-raging linebacker tears his arm out of socket while flinging him head first into the ground. Twice. That was awesome! Okay, not as awesome as the latina maids but definitely way better than Johnny B’s lame Jodie Foster one.


Monday Night

Dolphins at Steelers-
I’m thankful for chasing leftover turkey sandwiches with a nice big bag of weed. Whaddya know, 0-16 smells a lot like reefer.