Don't corrupt the minors!

¡You're welcome, Patrón! Anytime. I'm glad to contribute to society by not providing your alcohol to teens. Twenty year olds and little kids, fine. They can get some. But no fucking teens. NONE! Because teens should not be drinking this alcohol and they are certainly not gonna get any of it from me.

But what Patrón fails to consider here is...

If I were going to give alcohol to a teen, it sure as fuck wouldn't be Patrón. King Vladimir? Maybe. I'd consider it. MD 20/20? Good chance. I can see myself getting some MD for a 17 year old. Boone's Farm? HELL. MOTHERFUCKING. YES. Any time. Call me up. Text me right now, say "yo vern its jeff i need summa dat boones fizzy" and I'll be all like "k". And then I'll bring it to your motherfucking doorstep. So long as your parents aren't home at least. I don't need to deal with that.

Would I hit up a teen with some Schlitz? Hell yeah I would. I would get 40s of Schlitz by the case for teens. If they didn't have any Schlitz 40s, I'd get a case of Keystone Ice pounders. It's about damn time these kids learn how to pound through a case of 'Stones. I'll make them a power hour CD as well. What do you kids listen to? "Party in the USA"? Fine. Fuck it. The Florida Panthers use it as well to get fired up out on the ice (seriously), so it can't be that bad. Heyyyyy, and a Jay-Z song was on, yeahhhh, sweet song kids, ok...take out your keys and I'll show you how to shotgun these beers! Here, have a PBR! I'll certainly let you have one of those!

You kids want to have a party? I'll go pick up a keg. Yinz want Beast or Natty? I have no problem doing that. I'll go pick it up myself, no prob. Oh, you don't just want beer? You want me to get a handle of Captain Morgan 151? Jeez, kids, that's big boy stuff! Gotta be at least 19 for that, no? Ok, ok...I'll pick it up if I can. And we ain't mixin' that, we're gonna shoot it straight like men. I'll get some chasers. And I ain't getting any diet 'cause none of you motherfuckers are diabetic. What? Wait...what was that, Bernice?

You want what?

YOU WANT FUCKING PATRON?

FUCK. NO. No Patrón. Are you retarded, Bernice? Who named you anyway...1927? Are you Calvin Coolidge and Amelia Earhart's jazz-era illegitimate fuckchild? Patrón? Really? You can't be serious. You know what, fuck it. Fuck this whole party. I'm not getting any alcohol for you douchebag kids anymore. Fuck you Jeff, fuck you Mark, fuck you Amanda, and FUCK YOU TOO BERNICE! God. Fuck you two times, Bernice. Right in that zit.

For real. No one in college said, "yeah man, here's 30 bucks...can you get me some Patrón?" Because that would redefine gay.

Khalid Shaik Whocares

This guy. This is the guy that you are all afraid of. This guy who looks like the result of Bitch Stewie cloning Ron Jeremy. They are going to give him a trial in New York City! Oh my goodness, scene of the crime! Debates are popping up all over the place, either in favor of the move or strongly against it. What I'm disappointed in is the lack of indifference that I see. Why do people care? This is the kind of stuff that makes me want to hide all Facebook statuses.

Oh, Republicans. And don't get all up in arms, Conservatives. I'm talking Republicans. You know, the people who care whether a gay pregnant woman 1,500 miles away from them gets gay-married and then celebrates with an abortion. Repubs all over the House and Senate and TV are going absolutely nuts over this guy being captured in Pakistan and being afforded all of the rights of our Constitution (which I'm sure they all know in its entirety) even though he's Muzz. What should we do? Hand him over to the Pakistani government? Try him in Karachi? Maybe in Alaska? Russia? Alert, Nunavut, Canada? Just shoot him on the spot? Seems anti-climactic.

What if he is found innocent and set free in New York City? 

Ok. Let's ignore the fact that he's not going to be found innocent and set free. What if, hypothetically, he is. And he's set free in New York City. What's he going to do? Do you really think he's just going to walk out and go blow something up? They are just going to stab him to death, anyway. Some New Yorker will beat him to death. That's what will happen. He's not going to blow anything up. He's not going to be martyred. Why would it matter where we kill him at? His Muzz-buddies aren't going to be any more inclined to attack us due to the location of the trial. Are yinz really that worried? I can only write in question format. Gay.

Bush wouldn't have done it!

Who cares? He might have. He might not have. All I can guarantee, and trust me...this is probably the safest guarantee in this history of guarantees....if Bush were to do the same thing, 95% of people in favor of this move would all of the sudden be against it and vice versa. In a heartbeat. I know Bush kept us safe...excluding the worst terrorist attack of all-motherfucking-time, of course...but Obama has thus far as well. Could it be because the terrorist cells are too fractured right now to replicate one of the most once-in-a-blue-moon terror plots in the history of ever? Maybe Bush wasn't completely at fault for 9/11 or completely responsible for the lack of devastating attacks since? BUT HE WAS SO STRONG! I'm going out on a limb here, but I'm guessing that the President of the US has fuckall to do with terrorist activity. There are government agencies dedicated to this stuff. And none of it is affected in the slightest by the location of this douchebag's trial. They tried Zacarias Moussaui in the US under Bush's watch...who cares that he was apprehended in Minnesota? Really? That is the big difference here...where the guy was arrested? Give me a fucking break.

They are going to attack New York now!

We've been hearing for years that once a Democrat gets in office, the terrorists are just going to attack us because we are going to be too light on terror. Now we're going to get attacked because we are going to be too heavy on it. Stop turning this into a fucking Bud Light commercial. If the terrorists were really looking for reasons to be pissed off at us and attack, they could just look at how we've invaded Iraq and then...oh. Right. Al-Qaeda wasn't in Iraq. Still, you get my point. I'm sure Iraq and Afghanistan and Pakistan and Stan Musial and all of those terrorcountries are probably weiner cousins anyway.

So listen. If yinz guys are so afraid of terrorists attacking New York again because this prairie-dog looking washed-up terrorist is going to be tried there, try him here where I live. Try him in my fucking garage. I don't care. I'll even be the stenographer. Terrorists have probably forgotten who this guy was and, most importantly...terrorists don't need a reason to attack us. They don't. Allah told them to do it! If anything, this frenzy we are whipping up might remind them that, "oh yeah, guys, we forgot to attack the US!". Try him in my living room. Put a bullseye on the roof of my house while you are doing it. Advertise it in the Kabul Gazette. I can deal with your manufactured paranoia, you fucked-up Congressmen. Bring it on. We can do this anytime, Khalid.  

More gayness in writing - and chapping my balls while at it

Above is Michael Silver, who wrote this article. I have nothing more for a lead-in. It sucks, he wrote it for a legit writing outfit, and they paid him enough to afford those epically gay glasses. So congrats to you, Mr. Silver, on achieving Epic Gayness. 

When Bill Belichick made the decision to go for it on fourth-and-2 from his own 28 with 2:08 remaining and a six-point lead over the Colts on Sunday night, the future Hall of Fame coach knew exactly what he was doing.

Yes, he was going to attempt to convert a 4th down that would win the game for his team if converted and most likely lose it if not. Ok.

It was a perfect setup for ego-driven gratification, guaranteed to paint him as an avant garde genius or a misunderstood martyr: Either the Pats would convert the first down and win the game, and Belichick would be heralded as the shrewdest coach in America, or they’d fall short and lose, and he’d be pummeled by lesser mortals like me who simply don’t understand football on a higher plane.

What? Ego-driven gratification? What the fuck are you talking about? He was most likely attempting to play the odds, believing that his team had a better chance of converting that short 4th down than stopping Peyton Manning from scoring the go-ahead TD after a punt. Stop trying to turn this into 10th grade English class, where we search balls-deep in novels for hidden meanings as to why Edgar Allen Whogivesafuck named the Calico cat in chapter 5 "Puddles". Could it have something to do with St. Felix's Flood in Holland in 1530? I think it maaaaaaayyyyyyyyy dot dot dot.

We all saw what happened, and now it’s time for Belichick to assume the position. Bill, meet Barry Switzer. And see that guy over there in the corner of the room with padded walls? That would be one Sam Wyche.

Ok. I'm not familiar, so let's see why Sam Wyche is sitting in a corner of a padded room shaking and pissing into his own mouth.

Many people recall Switzer’s similarly dubious fourth-down gamble as coach of the Cowboys, which led to a late-season defeat to the Eagles in 1995. Less familiar to most fans is Wyche’s incomprehensible decision, as coach of the Bengals, to give Joe Montana and Jerry Rice a chance to beat him in 1987.

Don't give a fuck on Switzer, sometimes these calls work out and sometimes they do not. What did Wyche do?

In that game, the Bengals led the 49ers, 26-20, with six seconds remaining at Riverfront Stadium. San Francisco was about to fall to 0-2, pending a Cincinnati punt from its own 31-yard line, where the Bengals faced a fourth-and-long. Wyche didn’t want to risk a punt, instead calling a sweep for James Brooks, with the assumption that the play would eat up the remaining time.

That's almost epically retarded. Why not have the QB drop back and have the QB heave the ball as far as he can in the air? Still might not kill six seconds. Six seconds! The clock is going to stop right when the ballcarrier is tackled. Six seconds! I have a hard time believing that even an average sweep play is going to kill six seconds. That is ridiculously stupid on Wyche's part. And almost completely opposite-of-analogous to Belichick's call. Allow Sam Wyche to continue sitting in that room corner and feasting on bovine semen.

In defense of Belichick, many people have pointed out that he’s perhaps the greatest coach of his era, with three Super Bowl rings and a history of smart leadership. And all of that’s true – but it doesn’t mean that he has complete license to make ill-fated moves without being people questioning whether he has gone off the deep end.

Right. Like, for example, none of this gives Belichick license to instruct his punter to punt backwards over his own head and then take his pants off on the field. That would be going off the deep-end. This? This can be legitimately explained if people just drop the OMG WHY DIDN'T HE PUNT! schadenfreude as they jerk off while watching Belichick fail. And I absolutely HATE Bill Belichick. This all pains me to type, people.

Greater coaches than Belichick have seemingly lost their minds; hey, it’s a stressful profession that feeds God complexes like few others. And it’s not insignificant that two of his most respected ex-players, Rodney Harrison and Tedy Bruschi, were highly critical of the decision as television analysts.

It's absolutely insignificant. Have you ever heard Lou Holtz on TV? Just because one of his former players, especially one like Harrison who is probably still retarded off HGH abuse says that it was a bad decision does NOT make it a bad decision. If Bruschi was able to make the right decision every time he'd probably be a coach. Nothing could be more insignificant.

Trust me when I say that many people currently in the Patriots’ organization, at various levels, were equally perplexed by Belichick’s behavior.

Trust me when I say that I don't care in the slightest. There's a reason they aren't the head coach. 

Put it this way: Would Belichick have dared try that move with people like Bruschi, Harrison, Willie McGinest, Mike Vrabel and Richard Seymour on the sidelines? If he had, there might have been a full-blown incident on the sidelines – which is precisely why Belichick loved and coached those proud defenders, and why he’s doing a disservice to the Jerod Mayos and Brandon Meriweathers by not giving them the opportunity to define themselves in gut-wrenching situations like Sunday’s.

Yes, he probably would have. If Belichick is worried about Mike Vrabel punching him on the sidelines after a call, he should fucking trade Mike Vrabel to the Chiefs or something. He's not doing a disservice to Jerod Mayo. If Jerod Mayo is that sensitive, he needs to undergo counseling. Or maybe consider not allowing the Colts to put them in that position by scorching the field for 70 yards in about a minute in their previous drive. This "omg you don't trust the defense!" argument chaps my balls harder than soaking them for four hours in a bowl of Ann Coulter's taint-sweat.

Back when he trusted his defense with the game on the line, Belichick successfully preached to his players that it was all about team. Granted, he was the unquestioned authority figure, but no one – not even the coach – was bigger than the team.

He did? He never went for it on fourth down? Does that mean he didn't trust Tom Brady and the offense? When he put Vrabel in as a tight end, does that mean he didn't trust his tight ends? When he onside-kicked, does that mean he didn't trust his kick coverage? When he paid his bills online, does that mean he didn't trust his fucking mailman? This is retarded. The team should be about winning fucking games, and they would have had they gotten two yards. Doesn't the team trust Brady to pick up two yards?

By not punting on Sunday, Belichick essentially acted like he was above his players – and the fact that the decision backfired could have lasting consequences. All of those arguments in defense of Belichick which suggest that he was simply playing the odds won’t fly in the locker room, where results are the only thing that matters.

You are a fucking idiot. You are. I'm sorry to put it so bluntly, but you are. He didn't act like he was above his God damn players...it's not like Belichick went out there and took the snap, or he called "Belichick Left 42" on three, or any of that stupid drivel. Fuck playing the odds! That's stupid! Results matter!

I'm sure the players have no problems with the call at all. What if it would have worked? They would have liked him? That is stupid logic. That logic is tortured. What you are doing to that logic, Mr. Silver, is in violation of the Geneva Convention.

Besides, the “odds” of converting a fourth-and-2 don’t take into account the risk, numerical and emotional, of failing in that situation. Playing Russian roulette is another example of playing the odds, and if you get away with it, bravo. But if you don’t? Well, Belichick had best hope the Patriots perform as well as he expects them to in the coming weeks and months, or he may look back on Sunday as the moment it all started to unravel.

Ahhhh. Where to start.

Ok. The odds can cover this. Here's how it works....if the odds of you converting the fourth down OR failing and then keeping the Colts out of the endzone are better than punting and keeping the Colts out of the endzone, then go for it! Who cares how emotional you are? Are the Colts robots? Are they not emotional? Could they be sad that day? Has anyone even thought to consider how sadfacey Peyton Manning was?

But the Russian Roulette thing...how do you get away with writing that as a legit point? Here are the odds that come to play here:

PLAY RUSSIAN ROULETTE: 1/6 chance of dying

DO NOT PLAY RUSSIAN ROULETTE: No chance of dying

The odds say DO NOT PLAY RUSSIAN ROULETTE YOU FUCKING MORON! Jeez. If the choice was between playing Russian Roulette and, say, fighting a live puma, or maybe even getting a billion dollars if you win, things may change a bit. But if all you get is the satisfaction of winning the Russian Roulette game then...why am I even bothering? Anybody with sense can see that this is retarded.

The weird thing is, neither Wyche nor Switzer let their moments of ignominy take them down. Wyche took the Bengals to the Super Bowl the following season, losing only because of Montana’s brilliant 92-yard drive in the final three-plus minutes. Switzer’s Cowboys didn’t lose again after that defeat in Philly, going on to capture their third Super Bowl title in four years.

Wow...THAT'S INSANE. One thing going wrong didn't cause them to completely collapse as NFL head coaches? Maybe because they aren't 4-year olds and no one cares if they offer sufficient respect to their defenses through their play calling or maybe because the nature of football is sometimes something works and sometimes it doesn't?

Nah. Fuck that. These guys are just weird.

Those two coaches were deservedly ripped after their decisions led to defeats, and they did something about it. My advice to Belichick is to take his punishment, rejoin the mere mortals in his midst and try to muster a similar response.

I'm sure he says "you're welcome" and then makes one of those jackoff motions in your direction.

But he isn't done. Then he offers a list of 32 bits of info about each team. Let's take a look.

1. New Orleans Saints: How scary is it that Darren Sharper’s replacement, Usama Young, had an end-zone interception in his first start?

It's not scary. Sometimes defensive backs intercept passes. I'm really not scared at all. Or...maybe the Saints are the best team ever in the NFL because Usama Young replaced Darren Sharper and intercepted a pass against the MOTHERFUCKING RAMS. Yeah. Let's go with that one.

2. Indianapolis Colts: Yo, football gods: If Jim Caldwell didn’t lose on Sunday, will he ever?

Hells no! They will never face another test as stern as a visiting 6-2 New England squad. Jim Caldwell is invincible. He should play Russian Roulette professionally.

3. Minnesota Vikings: Did anyone besides Brett Favre know Sidney Rice was this good?

The team that drafted him? The coaches? His teammates? Anyone other than Brett Favre, who probably had absolutely no idea who Sidney Rice even was when he agreed to go to Minnesota? Am I missing something here?

4. Cincinnati Bengals: With Cedric Benson enjoying a career revival and Larry Johnson apparently on his way to Cincy, is Corey Dillon next?

Uhhh....didn't Corey Dillon have to leave Cincinnati for a career revival? And from all accounts, LJ will be inactive for most of the Bengals' games. REVIVAL!

5. Pittsburgh Steelers: Is it crazy to wonder whether poor kickoff coverage could cost this team a chance to repeat?

As it's already cost them one possible game and almost another, no, it's not. Kickoff returns count for just as much as any other touchdown, regardless of the amount of emotion involved.

6. New England Patriots: Does this hairless thug who threw down an NFL Films cameraman while escorting Bill Belichick to the locker room think we live in a repressive Third World country ruled by a ruthless dictator – or does he just think the NFL is its own, sovereign nation?

That is one of the worst attempts at a joke I've ever seen. Or does he think that it is a planet in a different galaxy where ape-people eat metal and hover over lakes of milk? Or does he think he's in an Ace and Gary sketch on SNL and sitting in the passenger seat of a penis car playing solitare on an iPhone? Or is this just gay? I choose option gay.

12. Philadelphia Eagles: If a team can’t convert in short-yardage situations – no matter how much talent it features on offense – can it be considered a legitimate contender?

Not a chance. You have to go all the way back to the 2008 Pittsburgh Steelers to find a championship team that couldn't convert in short-yardage situations!

15. Green Bay Packers: Was Sunday’s performance a season-saver – and, if so, what took these guys so long to crank it up?

Maybe they didn't just crank it up. Maybe week-to-week performances just kind of alternate like that. Maybe it happens to like every team. What the fuck happened to Dallas? And Pittsburgh? How'd the Colts almost lose to the 49ers at home? Why does Jay Cutler suck? Who knows.

24. Washington Redskins: After coach Jim Zorn informed him of his intention to run the creative fourth-down fake that led to a second-quarter touchdown, did designated play-caller Sherm Lewis yell, “Bingo!?”

 HAHAHAHAHAHAA SHERM LEWIS BINGO JOKES! Hey, did you guys hear? John Candy died!




I'm done. I hated everything about this column. I'm going to lie down and play some Russian Roulette.

IN BEN'S EYES

IN BEN'S EYES
I did not see
IN BEN'S EYES
Any light or fire
IN BEN'S EYES
It looked kind of like...he couldn't give the slightest horsefuck
IN BEN'S EYES
I bet that Ben....was out the night before not studying film
IN BEN'S EYES
The opposite of fire
IN BEN'S EYES
It was like he has a very competent fire department in his eyes
A fire department that puts out all the fire in his eyeeeeeeeeeeessss



O. M. G. If anybody else tries to say that they didn't "see the same fire" in Ben's eyes this weekend or that the team's gotten complacent or they want the Ben from last year to come back or anything like that then I am going to adopt a Polynesian child and then never talk to him so he grows up with serious issues and then those issues manifest themselves through various reprehensible actions. Jeez. Yinz are out of your damn minds.

Yes, let's bring old Ben back. FIREBEN! 17 TDs to 15 INTs Ben! Ben that singlehandedly lost to the Colts and Giants last year. CLUTCHINESS! F this 2,400 yards thrown in like 9 games and 14 TDs Ben. He's lost his clutchiness! It's like he traded in his motorbicycle for an AUTOMATIC TRANSMISSION! One with no clutch! And don't give me that "ohhh, Vern, automatic transmissions have clutches, they are just triggered automatically by the governor when it fills up with transmission fluid and etc etc." because I'll be like "STFU FOR ALL INTENTS AND PURPOSES THEY DON'T HAVE A CLUTCH!". And you don't want that because then I'd be yelling and I'm not nice when I'm yelling.

Relax, yinz. Them Stillers are 6-3. 10 wins will almost certainly at least get them back to the playoffs. They might run the tabe. Who knows. But all of yinz ready to jump off of the US Steel building need to back up a bit and crush up some chill pills and then snort them through a rolled-up dollar bill. 'Cause yinz is crazy. Ite? The Pittsburgh Super Bowl Champions will be fine, I believe. There's a lot of season left. Let's allow it to play out first, ok?

Peace be with yinz.

Head and Shoulders and MORE

Troy! Troy, HUGE interception on that 4th quarter drive there. Looks like you read Orton's eyes the whole way there. And yes, I agree, your hair was shining the whole time and you owe that to Head and Shoulders and yada yada yada, but let's talk about the pick you made and not your excellent hair, ok?

 

Good point, Trent. Head and Shoulders makes my hair look good, we all know that. But I have to credit that interception to new Head and Shoulders...and More.

Head and Shoulders and More? What the hell are you talking about?

It's new from Head and Shoulders! Check it out! And please watch the language...you should say "heck" instead.

You know the hair on your head is not the only hair on your body, Trent! I have to thank Head and Shoulders and More for my luxurious pubic mane! Check out this bush!

Uhhhh, Troy, I don't want to see your bush.

Sure you do, Trent, I can tell! Don't be embarrassed, there's nothing wrong with wanting to see what Head and Shoulders and More can do for a grown man's bush. Check it out! (pulls down pants to expose pubes)

Oh, God, Troy, I don't....WOW! Head and Shoulders and More did that! It's so shiny and luxurious and feels like one of those polar bear throw rugs! It looks like angel hair pasta!

I told you, Trent!

*runs off to the locker room*

I have to get some of that stuff!

(Narrator)

HEAD and SHOULDERS and MORE...BOOM!

*Head and Shoulders and More slams down onto table in commercial*

Shine up your bush like Polamalu's and give it the respect it deserves! GET YOUR PUBES IN THE GAME!

Sexually harrassing the English language

Gerry Dulac. Post-Gazette writer. Steelers columnist. Paid to write. Physically collects checks from the PG which he then deposits for actual money with which he can buy things. Material possessions. Probably nicer ones than I am able to afford.

Yet he is also a rapist.

I present my evidence in the form of the article I have just linked to in which Mr. Dulac takes the English language and then just has unprotected rapesex with it. He just date-rapes the language. Here it is, English, meeting Gerry Dulac, who is a professional paid columnist, thinking that he's just going to take it for a nice evening stroll. Just get reacquainted with it, enjoy the nice weather before winter arrives, etc. The language thinks that as a professional, Mr. Dulac is going to have nothing but the utmost respect for her...yet, he takes advantage of her willingness and just date-rapes the absolute fuck out of her right in front of everybody who reads the Post Gazette. It was a cold, classless calculated move by Dulac, and he should be ashamed. Andrea McNulty should be suing him on behalf of the language. I'd certainly believe her in that instance.

Seriously, these are some of the worst puns ever concocted. Dulac just took words and put them next to each other without rhyme or reason like you are just allowed to do that these days or something. I have no idea. Big Pun would be ashamed to have "pun" in his name following this typebortion. From the "To win, the (team) must..." section:

To win, the Broncos must ...

1 Not be yonkos*. They looked intimidated vs. the Ravens and did not match Baltimore's intensity, something they must do vs. the Steelers.

What? What in the coal-powered fuck is that, Dulac? What is a Yonko? You can't just change a name to something that sounds funny and expect that to be cool. It's not. That is not an insult. At least not to the Broncos. Maybe he just insulted Bronko Nagurski. I have no idea. All I know is that Hines Ward better not look like SQUINES Ward out there on the field, right? Am I right? Haaaaa! Chew on that, SQUINES!

EDIT: It was pointed out to me that Myron Cope always called the Broncos "Yonkos". I still don't care. It stays.


2. Buck the big play. They lead the AFC with 23 sacks and have to make sure Ben Roethlisberger doesn't have enough time to throw.

Uhhh, I guess that's ok. You can buck a trend. And broncos can buck...like, real ones, that is. You know, bucking broncos! Maybe these Broncos have to buck in order to prevent the Pittsburgh Steelworkers from completing big plays. Or, maybe he just chose the word "buck" because when combined with "big" in big play it created an alliteration, which just plain read magically. Every time. Cogency be damned.


3 Not let Knowshon be a no-show. The Steelers haven't allowed a 100-yard rusher in 29 games (counting playoffs).

Sigh. Knowshon can't be a no-show! He must show up! He's their running back! Where's my money?

*collects check from PG*

I get it. His name is Knowshon, so he can't be a no-show! Unlike his name, which has "know" in it! Pun fucking City, population Gerry Dulac. DO YOU KNOW-NOTHING, SIR? This is retarded. It's got an extra 21st chromosome.



To win, the Steelers must ...


1. Pile on Orton. He has been efficient for the Broncos, using screens and quick throws to slow the pressure and throwing just one interception.

Because his name is Kyle! So they have to pile on him and sack him! Just like every quarterback. Seriously, is there any time the defense says, "you know what, guys, this guy they got back there...you just...you just don't want to sack him. Run past him, pretend to slip, anything. Just don't sack him! It's going to be terrible for our defense"? I'm expecting the next tip to be "Be the Pittsburgh Scorers...score more points than the other team! Most teams that do this win!" Indeed they do, Gerry. Indeed they do.


2. Not get branded by Marshall. He can create matchup problems in the secondary, especially with S Ryan Clark not playing.

Right! Because his name is Brandon, and his doing well in this football game would be analogous to him branding the Steelers with a hot poker! His steaming visage would be all over this game. And all over Ryan Clark. Even though he's not playing. So maybe it won't be on Ryan Clark. Which is good, because then he won't turn into Fryin' Ryan!!!!!!!


3. Not let Elvis be a hound dog. Dumervil, the AFC sack leader, uses his smallish size (5-11, 248) to get underneath tackles and gain leverage.

Ok, this one hurts my creativity muscles. Just copying and pasting it gave me Carpal-Tunnel. Due to his smallish size, Elvis Dumervil physically crawls underneath tackles and gets into the backfield, getting the opposition All Shook Up. Or, maybe Elvis is a Fool and Rushes In to sack the quarterback. Something like that. He's the KING.


Since Dulac passed out from creative overload after penning this section, I figure that I will help the Post-Gazette and come up with a five-pack of my own for each team. This is free of charge, PG...just send me a nice thank you note and maybe a Doug Legursky-signed Terrible Towel and we'll call it even.


To Win, the Broncos must....


1. Not let Big Ben put his giant clock in your ass. In addition to being the Steeler's QB, Big Ben is also the name of a giant clock. If Big Ben strikes midnight in this game, expect a lot of limping Broncos on the receiving end of this clock-wise fucking.

2. Not get any STDs on defense. The Broncos have to wrap-up on the defensive side if they want to win this game. If they don't wrap-up, they may find themselves the victims of an unwanted teenage pregnancy in the form of Santonio Holmes or Hines Ward turning a short catch into a big play.


3. Not be the Schmenver Concos. Being the Schmenver Concos would suggest that the Broncos are playing zootball on a zootball field, and this is not the NZL. Instead of tassing and grunning the zootball as the Schmenver Concos would do, the Broncos should pass and run the football. Don't play bathmouth zootball behind Skyle Aborton and Goodtoknowshon Dorito.  

4. Allow Correll to corrun. Correll Buckhalter is averaing 6 yards per carry this season, which would CORRELLate very strongly with victory...because 6 yards per carry is good and good things tend to win football games.

5. Not bunt the football, but instead punt it. Bunting the football 4 to 5 yards instead of punting it 40 to 50 will greatly reduce Denver's chances of winning this game. Field position is important, and if Mitch Berger decides to bunt instead of punt, the Steelers could find themselves charging the bunt to field it and then throwing it to first where it will be caught for victory by the first basemen, Rashard Mendenhall.


To win, the Steelers must...


1. Save Private Ryan. Ryan Clark almost died the last time he played in the high Denver altitude, and the Steelers would be very well served to not allow him to die this time. A dead Ryan Clark will be a huge liability in pass coverage, as Emlen Tunnell showed last year playing dimeback for the Detroit Lions.

2. Keep the Broncos from cooking Roethlisburgers and then eating them on the field with a full assortment of condiments and soft drinks. Allowing the Broncos pass rush to continually get into the Steeler backfield, setting up a gas grill and preparing delicious Roethlisburgers to serve to the rest of the team will spell certain doom for Pittsburgh's chances in this ball game. They must prevent the Broncos from having a delicious barbeque at all costs.

3. Don't fall victim to a Royal flush. When playing cards with the Broncos, the Steelers cannot overplay their hand (even if they have quad aces) and fall victim to Eddie Royal playing a royal flush by taking a punt back for a touchdown. Royal played this hand twice against the Chargers in mid-October, beating Philip Rivers' 7-J straight and Norv Turner's nines-over-fours full house. These two hands were enough to tilt the game in favor of the Broncos.

4. Be the Pittsburgh Stealers. Steal the ball from the Broncos. Create turnovers. Interceptions. Fumbles. Physically steal balls from the initial stockpile of gameballs. Don't give the balls back. Keep the balls that you just stole. That is one almost foolproof way for the Steelers to win this game. If the Broncos are unable to even find a ball to play with, their offense will be severely limited.

5. Make sure Mike Wallace is not ball-less. If the Steelers want to open up their running attack, getting some balls to Mike Wallace and not allowing him to go ball-less will surely help them to do so. The explosive rookie is one of the fastest players on the field, and there is no reason for Benjamin R. Roethlisberger to keep him ball-less. Ben must hit Wallace with his balls. As usual, the R. stands for "rape".


So there you go, PG! Free of charge! You can even put them under Dulac's name for all I care.

POWERSLAM

 HEY YALL THIS IS ED ORGERON OF THE TENNESSEE VOLUNTEERS BUT YOU CAN JUST CALL ME COACH O. OR NOT. BUT IF NOT ILL POWERFUCK YOUR GRANDMOTHER HARDER THAN HURRICANE CAMILLE POWERFUCKED THE RICHELIU APARTMENTS AND ILL DO IT RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU WHILE RECRUITING YOUR SON TO PLAY FOOTBALL AT TENNESSEE AND ILL MEGARAPE HIM IN THE FUCKING SHOWER IN FRONT OF THE TEAM. AND TRUST ME NOBODY POWERFUCKS OR MEGARAPES LIKE COACH O. I DONT EVEN TYPE IN ALLCAPS I POWERTYPE!

*Emphasizes last sentence and shatters "!" key*

I GUESS THAT MEANS NO MORE EXCLAMATION POINTS FOR COACH O BUT THATS FINE CAUSE COACH O DONT NEED NO EXCLAMATION POINTS TO EXCLAIM. IM NOT HERE TO TALK ABOUT EXCLAIMING THOUGH IM HERE TO TALK ABOUT DRUGS AND MORE IMPORTANTLY NOT DOING DRUGS. KIDS DONT DO ANY DRUGS EXCEPT GOOD DRUGS LIKE STEROIDS. STEROIDS ARE GOOD DRUGS. WHO CARES THAT THEY MAKE YOUR BALLS SMALLER THAT WILL MAKE YOUR DICK LOOK BIGGER AND IF THERES ONE THING COACH O KNOWS ITS THE LADIES AND THAT THE LADIES LOVE BIG DICKS. THATS WHY COACH O GETS SO MANY LADIES BECAUSE HIS DICK SWINGS AROUND LIKE A FUCKING PENDULUM.

*Whips out dick and breaks glass with it*

DID YOU SEE THAT KIDS I JUST BROKE THAT GLASS WITH MY DICK.

*Begins chewing glass, bleeds from mouth profusely*

AND IM MAN ENOUGH TO EAT GLASS MMMMMM GLASSS MMMSMDJDFJSD *choking on own blood* BECAUSE IM MENTALLY ANDMMMMM PHYSICALLYMMMM MMTOUGHMMMM MMMMMMMMMMMMMM *throws up blood-soaked shards of glass*

SO KIDS FUCK DRUGS EXCEPT GOOD DRUGS AND GET GOOD GRADES AND ALL OF THAT SHIT AND ONE DAY YOU CAN PLAY FOR COACH O HERE AT TENNESSEE. HERES WHAT WE DO AT TENNESSEE EVER SINCE COACH O ARRIVED IN THIS TOWN:

- POWERFUCK EVERYTHING THAT MOVES - YOU KIDS WILL BE GODS ON CAMPUS AND MASTERS AT THE ART OF THE POWERFUCK. YOU WILL LEARN FROM THE BEST, COACH O. I COULD FUCK A BLUE WHALE IN ITS ASS AND MAKE IT BLEED TO DEATH.

*suplexes Volvo*

- DICKSTOMP ALL OPPONENTS - EVERY TEAM THAT DARES CROSS OUR PATH WILL BE DICKSTOMPED INTO NEXT MILLENIUM. OUR DICKS WILL BE LIKE MORTARS AND PESTLES AND WE WILL DICKGRIND THE ENEMY INTO A FINE FAGGOTY DUST THAT WILL BE SNORTED BY FAGGOT PUSSY SOCCER PLAYERS WHO WILL THEN TURN SO FUCKING FAGGYGAY AND START FUCKING EACH OTHER ON THE FIELD WHILE WE SIT BACK AND LAUGH AND JACK OFF UNTIL WE RIP OUR OWN DICKS OFF AND THEN SLAP BEAR BRYANTS GHOST WITH THEM. WE ARE THE TENNESSEE DICKSTOMPERS!

*drinks entire contents of 5-gallon gasoline jug*

- ROPEDICKS - ALL OF MY PLAYERS HAVE ROPEDICKS. YOU WILL LASSO EVERY DICKCRAVING FUCKSLUT ON THIS FUCKING CAMPUS AND SUPERFUCK EACH ONE OF THEM UNTIL THEIR UTERUS LOOKS LIKE MATT SCHAUB. BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT WE FUCKING DO HERE WHEN YOU ARE A TENNESSEE DICKSTOMPER. WE FUCKING SUPERFUCK WITH OUR ROPEDICKS.

SO IF YOU WANT TO BE A FUCKING MAN WITH A GIANT ROPEDICK YOU FUCKING ACT LIKE IT AND MAYBE COACH O WILL COME TO THE DOOR AND FUCK YOUR MOTHER IN FRONT OF YOUR FACE WILL YOU SIGN A LETTER OF INTENT AND YOU FUCKING LIKE IT. BUT DON'T COUNT ON IT PUSSIES.

Generic Energy Drink Corner: MONSTER M-80

Once again, the background has been changed to protect the author, who holds a legitimate job.

As I have long tired of paying the $5.97 price tag affixed to Red Bull these days, I occasionally dabble in the generic energy drink circuit to mixed results. Today I pounded some MONSTER M-80...ENERGY + JUICE!!! I know it's been awhile since most of you have last taken a math class, but let me help you out here: Energy + Juice = POWERSLAMS. Mixing the two allows you POWERSLAM all of your daily tasks and then MEGARAPE them on the table. Or at least that's what it says on the can.

However, in reality, this tastes nothing like an explosion or anything of the sort. It tasted like pineapple juice. You know, the stuff that comes out of that gay little Dole can with the gay little opening on the top of it. What a freaking letdown! This juice was completely devoid of energy. They might as well have bottled the excitement at a St. Louis Rams home game, mixed it with juice and taurine, put the Monster logo on it and sold it like that. No explosions. No powerslamming. NO ENERGY. I imagine that the people who like to drink this stuff also ordered this jersey:

 

Hell yeah, Mural Hodge! SLAM THAT M-80! ENERGY + JUICE!

This joke of a drink didn't even give me the energy shakes. That's terrible.

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

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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.