I'm Starting to Think These Guys Just Don't Get It

Rich Eisen. You sly, rabbit humping mother licker. Don't you know I listen to WFAN 24 hours a day? Don't you realize that when you're on that station, your soul becomes mine? I will not let your foolishness go by without being mocked. I heard you on Joe Benigno and Evan Roberts in the morning today, and if you think I'm going to let this shit slide, you've got another thing coming, you polish bike riding bastard.

Now, please realize, my 4 readers, that I am paraphrasing this bigtime. I could be off by several words here, but let's just try to have some fun with this. Eisen was talking to Benigno and Roberts about the Packers-Cowboys game tonight when he broke out this gem:

Roberts: Well let's hope the NFL Network does a good job and doesn't turn the game into a Brett Favre lovefest.
Eisen: ...Why would that be a bad thing?

Eisen, despite working for ESPN at one point, is a relatively intelligent man. Why doesn't the mainstream media understand that the public (outside of Green Bay) does not want to hear about the shape of Favre's scrotum? Once that ball get rolling, the talks of how much he smiles will start, and then God knows we're going to get the inevitable Romo-Favre comparison. 'Cause they're both GUNSLINGERS!!! They improvise, don't you get it?

Go _____ Rays!

So Tampa Bay has finally exorcised themselves and dropped the cursed "Devil" from their name. Losing the intimidation linked to the one creature capable of offing the late great Steve Irwin, they are now named after a geometric figure:

Scary Ain't it?

Well that got us thinking, what if other teams get inspired by the brevity going on, and shorten their own name? It worked for Prince. What could happen? Maybe this:

-Washington RedSkins drop the "Red" from their name, go only by 'Skins. Meaning of course, they play with no shirts on.

-Philadelphia 76ers decide 76 is too high of a number, finish season as the Philadelphia 14s

-Portland Trail Blazers are now simply called Blazers, wear "business casual" uniforms.

-Randall Gay decides to go by one name. He picks Gay. It was a 50-50 shot.

-M. Night Shyamalan shortens his name to avoid confusion. He will now go by "that douche who made signs"

-Charlotte Bobcats, fearing action from PETA, drop "cats". The Bobs represent the everyman.

-Hofstra University Flying Dutchmen change names to Hofstra Dutch Oven. No one goes to home Basketball games.

-South Carolina GameCocks shorten their name to just "Game." Wasn't expecting that.

-New Jersey Devils also see the problem with "Devil" but really have no choice.

-Tennessee Titans drop unnecessary letters, are called the "Tits." Trade Vince Young for four Cheerleaders, a team masseuse, and a sideline reporter to be named later.

-University of Las Vegas change from "Runnin' Rebels" to "Runnin' Train." Fucking right.

Inside the Huddle with Jon Kitna

Kitna: Ok, guys, we're gonna run a Don't-have-sex-before-marriage Stretch 25 Left.

Kevin Jones: Jon, can we stop with this preachy bullshit? It's really starting to wear on the team. Hell, half of us converted to Islam last week, so we don't really appreciate your beliefs.

Kitna: I suppose I can forgive you, Kevin, you clearly have not seen the light yet. As the Lord says of Job in Job 2:8, "Have you noticed my servant Job, and that there is no one on earth like him, blameless and upright, fearing God and avoiding evil?"

Calvin Johnson: ...So you're like Job?

Kitna: Exactly! All right, BREAK! Set...

Kitna gets flagged for a delay of game penalty.

Kitna: Whoa, Mr. Referee, can we be reasonable here? I was just informing my barbarous teammates--

Ed Hochuli: Shut the FUCK up and get back in the huddle you little Christian pansy! I am this close to ripping off your nose and sticking it up my ass as a butt plug!!!

Kitna: Ed, we're both adults here, let's try to work this out. As the Lord our God said in Genesis, "Be fruitful and multiply."

Jones: Uh, John, that's completely irrelevant to what psycho-ref is saying to us.

Hochuli: You're goddamn right it's irrelevant! You one of those priests, Kitna? You think it's OK to go around touching on little boys and whatnot? It's SICK, that's what it is, Kitna.

Kicks Kitna in the groin and knocks out four of his teeth.

Hochuli: That's what you get you child molesting son of a bitch!

Kitna: Ugh... let's get back into the game. It's going to be an 81 deep cross to Calvin, and remember to go to confession this week.

Play results in an incompletion as Calvin lets it slip right through his hands.

Kitna: Calvin, have you not been practicing your beatitudes? Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.

Roy Williams: Wooooo, I got a first down, yeahhhhh!!!!

Kitna: Roy, that was three quarters ago. You are aware that pride is one of the seven deadly sins right? Kevin Spacey was all up on that in Se7en.

Jones: Enough is enough! Let's get him!!!

Kitna: Noooo! Let he who is without sin cast the first stone!

Ed Hochuli: Johnny, I ain't sinned since I cut off Little Jimmy's big toes back in the seventh grade. I'd be glad to begin.

Kitna: ...Fuck.

Every Morning in the Robinson House

We see Nate Robinson in his room. Fast asleep in his racecar bed underneath his framed autographed poster of Spud Webb.

Nate (Dreaming): What's that Isaiah? Yeah I'd love to play center! Mr. Stern? The greatest Slam Dunk Contest you've ever seen? Wow thanks...

Nate's Mom: NATHANIEL! WAKE UP! You gonna be late for practice!

Nate: Aww Momma please just 5 more minutes....

Mom: Hell no, you best be getting the fuck out of that bed before I bust your head in with this wooden spoon.

Nate: But this race-car bed is so comfy...

Mom: C'mon! There's Alpha-Bits in the kitchen.

Nate: Oh snap! Wait, you got the ones with the marshmallows right? The box with just the cereal is a bigger letdown than Mardy Collins

Mom: Extra mallows, just like you like.

Nate: Holla!

Now downstairs, Nate proceeds to inhale his breakfast.

Mom: Now eat those Flintstone Vitamins! They gonna help you grow up nice and tall.

Nate: You know Mama, I don't think that really worked out.

Mom: Oh hush up. Nathaniel, did they ever catch that gorilla that escaped from the Zoo and gave you that black eye?

Nate: No Momma, the search continues.

Mom: That's a shame. You know I got a call from your commissioner last night. You misbehavin' again?

Nate: Momma I swear he started it!

Mom: You know I ain't hearin none of that.

Nate: But Momma Carmelo called me "Noodle-Head Nate." You know how much I hate that.

Mom: Carmelo said that? I'm gonna have a talk with his Momma.

Nate: Mom don't, that'll just make things worse!

Mom: Well then do you promise to stop fighting?

Nate: Yes Ma'am.

Mom: Do you promise to stop missing 3 pointers?

Nate: What?

Here Nate throws a tantrum and runs back up to bed. His Mom tries to talk to him through the locked door.

Mom: Hey c'mon sweetie, I didn't mean it. And seriously, you really need to get to practice.

Nate: Practice? We're talking about practice? We're not talking about a game, we're talking about practice.

Mom: I hate his new friends.

Genie Visits New England

Genie, in his infinite wisdom, grants each player one wish...

Tom Brady - "I wish Giselle and Bridget would agree to that threesome I keep asking for"

Wes Welker - "I wish I was black...but only for the better touchdown dances"

Teddy Bruschi - "I wish the voices in my head would stop yelling so I could finish my Yoga"

Randy Moss - "I wish Ricky Williams comes back. Bitch knows he owes me 50 bucks"

Junior Seau - "I wish I wasn't like 48 years old"

Asante Samuel - "I wish McDonalds would bring back the McRib"

Rodney Harrison - "I wish HGH came in better flavors"

Laurence Maroney - "I wish I'd get a goddamn touchdown! What the fuck is it, week 11 already!?"

Donte Stallworth - "I wish I'd get a pass once in a while. Tom, I'm Open! Fuck Moss and Welker"

Mike Vrabel - "I wish Belichick would let me play Styx in the locker room"


Bill Belichick - "What the fuck are you doing here Genie!? I said you can't play! Get your smoky blue ass back in that Fucking Lamp!"

Warren Sapp Calls a Chinese Restaurant

China Royale: China Royale, how may I help you?

Warren Sapp: Yooooo, is this Yao Ming? I ain't seen that dude since hiiigh skoo.

CR: Why the hell would Yao Ming be here? He's a basketball player for Christ's sake. We are a simple Chinese restaurant.

WS: Whatever, forget it. This is Warren Sapp, professional football player and leader of Fat Fucks Anonymous. I hope you're ready for a huge order, I just called up Joey Chestnut and Refrigerator Perry and we're going to have ourselves the biggest meal you ever did see.

CR: Chestnut... The Fridge... No, no, no, I'm sorry, we're not going to be able to help you, we do not have the capabilities of handling an order that large.

WS: Listen up, Ping-Pong, I've got a real man's appetite, and I wont' be having any of that sissy bullshit. I've got one sniper at the front of the store and one out back, and they'd love to make your acquaintance if you're not able to handle my order.

CR: You've got my attention. Please continue.

WS: First, we're going to need 4 gallons of Hot and Sour Soup for each guy in attendance. Don't put that shit in a big bowl or nothing, I want it pumped through my veins with an IV. This way, I can watch Bridge on the River Quai without having to lift my ladle to my mouth. Hey Shoo-Shoo, you ever heard of that Porky Pig character?

CR: Yes, I've seen his cartoons.

WS: He's a silly son of a bitch, ain't he? Always stammering on about all sorts of jibber-jabber; it gives me the giggles! Ahem, let's get back to business. I'm going to need 72 pieces of General Tso's Chicken, and I want you to wrap each piece in one of those little jewelry boxes you put rings in. I want it to feel like I'm opening some sort of fantastic present every time I pop one of those tasty morsels in my bear trap of a mouth.

CR: You got it. Would you like any noodles with that?

WS: How did you know that I loved noodles, Chairman Mao? Noodles are great, but in their un-evolved form they don't really do much for me. Now, I want you to build with the noodles a replica of the log cabin that Abraham Lincoln was born in, as described in his autobiography, "Stovepipe Hats and Me: Living the Straight Life as a Gay Man."

CR: Godammit, tell the sniper to get the red dot off my chest, I'm doing everything you ask.

WS: Aw, don't worry, that's just Ryan Leaf. I've never met a more level-headed fellow in my life. He's going to take real good care of you.

Ryan Leaf: Fuck my life!!!!!!!!!

WS: Don't worry Ryan, I'm gettin' you some mother fuckin' dumplings, the whole thang is gonna be delicious, baby.

RL: I'm confused! Which one is my end zone?!

WS: Mr. Chinaman, you better hurry up and get that out before he snaps.

CR: Shit, shit, shit. What else do you want?

WS: Gimme some o' that duck sauce, that good shit. But i want enough to bathe in it, so I'm going to need somewhere in the upper ten thousands of packets, you feel me?

CR: Fine. Anything else.

WS: Yeah, you know that figure skatin' chick, Michelle Kwan? Bring her over, too.

CR: Yeah, sure, Michelle Kwan, whatever you want, Fats.

WS: How much is that going to come to?

CR: Free, just leave me the hell alone. You don't call here no more!!!

WS: All right, then. Chop Chop, get the delivery bitch down here immediately. Warren needs a backrub with a side of happy ending. And don't forget Leaf's dumplings; things will be bad for you if you forget his dumplings.

Ryan Leaf: I think I just sharted.

Inside the Knicks Locker Room

Isiah: Does anyone know where Stephon went?

Zach Randolph: Who? Is he the guy with the long hair?

Renaldo: No, that's me you dumb fuck.

Randolph: Haha, sorry, I am high as SHIT right now.

Isiah: Zach, I thought we agreed on no illegal narcotics two hours before gametime?

Randolph: I couldn't help it coach, the weed was callin' me.

Isiah: Goddammit, Zach. Eddy, what's wrong?

Eddy Curry: I'm hungry.

Nate Robinson: You just had three footlong subs and a cheesecake, how the hell are you still hungry, tubs?

Curry: I dunno, missing free throws works up my appetite.

Isiah: ...So no Stephon then? I guess... we have to start...

Mardy Collins: Me, coach, start me!!!

Isiah: Oh, shit no, there is no way in hell you are ever going to start again on one of my teams. No, I've decided that I'm coming out of retirement for tonight's game.

Curry: Are we still going to Baskin Robbins after the game?

Isiah: I told you, if you hit half of your free throws tonight, we'll go.

Curry: Solid, I'm gonna go have a pre game snack.

They all hear a distant rumbling, which grows louder by the second. No, it can't be...
Vin Baker: Who's ready to get fucked in the ass?!

Isiah: Security, hurry! Vin, how the hell did you get in this building?

Vin Baker: Do it even matter? I just drank three bottles of Hennessey and I am ready to FUCK SOMEBODY UP!

Nate: Don't worry guys, I can take him.

Isiah: Nate I know you're borderline psychotic, but once Baker starts moving he absolutely cannot be stopped.

Nate: Shit. Let's get out of here.

Marbury enters, clearly high as shit.

Marbury: Goddamn, Vin, how you doin'?!

Vin smashes Marbury in the face with a cricket bat and proceeds to eat his brains.

Marbury: Nooooo, if only I had made more expensive sneakkkkkerrrrsssss.....


David Lee: That was awesome, let's go run a train.

Questions Only between Chad Pennington and Eric Mangini

Chad: Hey Coach, can I start on Sunday?

Mangini: Can you throw the ball more than 20 yards?

Chad: Why would I need to throw the ball more than 20 yards?

Mangini: Chad, do you realize how many people are in the Facebook Group Kellen Clemens must replace Chad Pennington NOW!?

Chad: What's a Facebook?

Mangini: Forget it benchwarmer, do you think you can go a game without getting sacked?

Chad: Can't you just blame the Offensive Line for that?

Mangini: Can't you just suck my dick?

Chad: If I do will you let me start?

Mangini: Holy shit you're serious, do you realize you have less than half the yards of Brett Favre?

Chad: That guy still plays?

Mangini: Well somehow you have less interceptions than Peyton Maning, did you know that?

Chad: I promise I can catch up! Can you just give me another chance?

Mangini: Maybe, can you hit Coles on a deep post?

Chad: Can I use the NERF Vortex Howler?

Mangini: So you can throw perfect spirals every time like John Elway!?

Chad: Yeah Coach! Wouldn't that be fun?

Mangini: No Cocksmoker, that would be a waste of my goddamn time. Don't you got some season-ending injury to suffer?

Chad: Nope I got lucky this year! So this means I'm in?

Mangini: Do I look like a bitch?

Chad: What?

Mangini: Do...I...look...like...a...bitch?

Chad: What?

Mangini: What country you from?

Chad: What?

Mangini: Do they speak English in What?

Chad: What?

Mangini: English Motherfucker do you speak it?

Chad: Coach that Sam Jackson impression is getting good, have you been practicing?

Mangini: Can you tell?

Chad: It sounds good, but before you go into Ezekiel 25:17, can you tell me if I'm starting?

Mangini: Will you stop asking me?

Chad: Yes, please I'll do anything just let me start!

Mangini: Uh-oh, that wasn't a question...

Chad: Oh Shit! I mean, uh, well, I was asking...

Mangini: Too late bitch-ass, you lose. Enjoy the bench. Clemens get over here! You're in shitface, don't fuck this up!

Chad: Tittyfuck

Fatheads I Would Totally Buy

Donald Rumsfeld -

Great for the little Secretary of Defense in your life














George Michael -

Add some WHAM! to your wall














Quailman -

With the ability to stay up past his own bed time!















Mountain Dew Code Red -

C'mon, who cares it lowers your sperm count? It tastes Awesome!
















Jesus -

If you don't buy this, you're going to hell

A-Rod: Universal Bitch, Part II

As our story opens, Alex recently got away from Boras' taunting and is calling George Steinbrenner to tell him he's opting out of his contract.

Alex: Mr. Steinbrenner?

George: Is this Billy Martin?! I already told you you were fired, you lazy eyed fuck!

Alex: No, sir, this is Alex Rodriguez, or "Gay-Rod," as some of the fans have begun to affectionately call me. And I don't have a lazy eye; you might be referring to the slight limp I've acquired since being double teamed by my agent and Reggie Jackson.

George: Oh yeah, Scotty told me all about that. You still listening to that Ben Stefanie garbage?

Alex: Her name is Gwen Stefani, and you know that, Mr. Steinbrenner. It helps me relax after a long day of carrying your team.

George: That's enough of your yellow bellied bullshit. Do you have any idea how much I bought the Yankees for? And what they're worth now?! I could buy your soul, use it as a one time toilet like those vagrants do with stalled cars on the side of the road, and set it on fire.

Alex: I didn't want to have to do this, but you're forcing me to use my outside voice. I'm opting out of my contract, and you can't stop me! ...That felt amazing; I've never been so bold before, it's given me a tinkle in my dinkle-doo!

George: Dinkle-doo? Alex, let me tell you an amusing anecdote. When I was 14 I met a young man who referred to his dick as a dinkle-doo. I beat him over the head with Wonderboy and stole three of his fingernails. Now, do you want to rethink your previous statement?

Alex: Mr. Steinbrenner, I just can't handle this town. The other day I caught Jeter by his locker masturbating to a picture of himself . I heard Shelley Duncan talking about a foursome he had with four Vietnamese senior citizens. And, I mean, Christ, did you know that Torre sits in his office for hours after games staring at the wall and saying "Both teams played hard," over and over again?!

George: Alex, perhaps you're really not cut out for this town. This means that there's only one solution. A... final solution.

Alex: ...What are you saying, sir?

George: Alex, let's let facts be facts- you're the best goddamn player in baseball. If you go to play for those fairy Red Sox, they're a lock to win the series; if you play for the Mets, well, that's just an embarrassment. I'm going to have to kill you.

Alex: Put the gun away, you crazy old liver spotted fucker! I'm out of here!

Super George: ::George raises the revolver, fires three shots into the now closed door:: Ah, shit, I missed. I guess that bastard's gone forever. Who am I gonna get to play third base?

Alex: Whew, that was a close call. I guess it's time to hold teams hostage for all of their money!

Don't forget to come back for Part III, where Alex will negotiate a new contract while trying to stay away from Super George.

A Short Biography of Jesse Palmer

Jesse Archibald Palmer was born on July 4, 1812. He has no mother because he sprung out of his father Joe the Fatass' left thigh during a duel with Edward the Black Prince, who led the Honolulu Hamburgers to a 54-7 win over the Hamburg Doodybombs in the Battle of Hastings in 1066 AD. Palmer's father immediately threw Jesse in a perfect spiral into the head of Edward the Black Prince, and thus the game of football was invented.

Palmer spent his childhood hunting down the evil remnants of Julius Caesar's Shrine of the Silver monkey. Unfortunately, three pieces slipped his grasp and made their way to the set of a children's television show, Legends of the Hidden Temple. Upon finding the last of the Dead Sea scrolls, he accidentally released Bill Belichick's soul from the ninth circle of Hell, where Satan had been skinning him.

In the 1800's Palmer unsuccessfully ran for president of the United States 17 times for the Diarrhea Party. Calling for better toilet paper in yet to be invented public bathrooms, his cause was not fulfilled until Elizabeth Cady Stanton took up the cause in the late 19th century. After spending most of the early to mid 20th century searching for the Fountain of Youth, Palmer eventually found it by drinking the liquid coming out of Al Gore's asshole after Gore invented the internet.

After being drafted into the NBA under the alias Lenny Bias, Palmer died of a cocaine overdose before he ever played a game for the expansion franchise Boston Celtics. Local priest Larry Bird called it "a sad day for clergymen everywhere."

After successfully inventing caviar, Palmer entered the University of Florida as a freshman in the late 1990s in order to set a new record for number of co-eds knocked up in one semester. He soon tired of this and decided to join the football team. He took on Rex Grossman as his young Padowan and taught him how to become a Sex Cannon. After cloning himself to play as a shitty ass quarterback who couldn't beat out Kerry Collins, the real Palmer went to Iran and kicked Mahmoud Ahmadinejad in the balls for being such a fucking asshole.

Palmer is now a college football analyst for ESPNnews, where he makes minimum wage. "I'm not in it for the money; they let me have a shot at Erin Andrews after every show, so I can't complain." He lives in Stockholm, Sweden with his pet panda bear Mi-shu and his son, Larry David.

In Case You Missed It:

The NHL Has Started!

"This is SPARTA!"

No seriously, and they played like 15 games...

The Pacific Conference is Really Tight
First and Fifth is separated by only three points. Yes, points, I know I know just deal with it.

The Redwings are Really Good
Well of course, this is Dr. Cox's team so we all knew they'd bitch everyone around, and call the Blackhawks "Betty."

Swedish Guy with Beard is Points Leader
Naturally, some dude named Henrik is the scoring leader. Crosby is up there and will probably pass him soon enough. Actually, I have no fucking idea, but I heard of this Crosby kid. Possibly only because his name looks like Cosby.

Martin Brodeur is Old
Dude can't hack it no more. He's a legend in the game, but he's 35, and has a 2.83 goals agains average (Again, I don't know what that means but he's ranked 30th in the NHL). Fortunately, you are still allowed to call yourself MarTAN when blocking your friend from grabbing your shit.

Alright, that's enough. There's all you need to no about Hockey. If you really have a craving for the puck, just watch D2: The Might Ducks on Encore. Check back in 8 months when this long-ass season is finally over, and we'll tell you why nobody watched the Stanley Cup.


"Fuck You Barry Melrose! Back to NFL News!"

Ha, I Am Your God

You see what this is? This is my new fuckin' haircut.

Yeah, you know you wanna click that badass link at the top of this post. You know why? 'Cause I'm the fuckin' man, and everyone should know it. You think I got to be this handsome by sitting on my ass drinking Milwaukee's Best Lite and eating Goldfish? Fuck no, man. These guns were sculpted by countless hours at the gym while simultaneously supermanning hos.

What's that? You can't stop looking at my headband? You want to know how much this cost, you fucking pauper? $200. Yeah, that's right, two hundred big badass American smackeroos. It's made out of ostrich scrotum. Little known fact: that stuff was outlawed in the late 19th century, but I managed to talk to some of my Australian homies and they had it specially made for me.

I bet you're wondering what the 5 on the end of my bat means. The number on my jersey?! That what you wish it was, you poor bastard. No, I'm afraid that was the number of women I had in my bed last night. I didn't even use a condom! There's going to be mini-Davids running around all over the place, running a train on all those who do not recognize my amazing abilities.

Can you even begin to understand the true meaning of my pussy getting powers? I won the Gold Glove at third base this year, and I came in second in the voting for Gold Glove at catcher. Now you may be saying, "David, you had 21 errors this year, how the hell did you win the Gold Glove?" ...'Cause I'm David Wright, dipshit! You think errors have anything to do with being a good fielder? It's all about who looks the very best out there in the field. And... come on, we all know who that is.

You think Derek Jeter's the only guy in this town who has his own cologne? I'm working on my own right now; it's called Essence of David. Basically, it's my piss. Yeah, it sounds a little weird at first, but I consistently piss excellence. Think of it like Michael's Secret Stuff from Space Jam, goddamn it do I love that movie.

Some other things you might not know about me:
>You know the last chapter of the seventh Harry Potter book? The whole thing is a metaphor for when me and J.K. Rowling did it.
>I wrote the Bill Belichick post.
>I created and destroyed the ManBearPig

Time to pop that collar....

Shaquille O'Neal's Plans for the Future

1) Hang around under basket, wait for pass

2) Call Universal Studios about Kazaam 2: The Next Wish

3) Massage D. Wade's knees so he can heal quicker

4) Work on Free Throws <---- Haha, fuck that!

5) Eat a full-grown Bear for Dinner tonight

6) "Retire" from Basketball, fail miserably at minor league Baseball, Star in Cartoon/Live Action movie, Make triumphant return to NBA

7) Start Wearing a Cowboy Hat 24/7 (Cowboys are the new Pirates)

8) Beat Guitar Hero III

9) Continue Hitting on HEATDancers

10) Get one of those "MySpace" Pages (to relate to my young fans)

11) Finish Watching 'A-Team' DVDs Anfernee gave me for X-mas

12) Buy a Tiger <---- So Badass!

13) Complete Gallon of Milk in one Hour Challenge, Win $20 from Gilbert Arenas

14) Learn Karate (So I can start bustin' heads in UFC)

15) Take Advantage of Writer's Strike by pitching "LoveShaq" reality show VH1 Would LOVE This!!!!

Dennis Miller Sucks

Now, I try to avoid making fun of people who are more successful than me under most circumstances. Except this. And this. Oh, and this! And, being the good natured (re: asshole) that I am, I wanted to avoid this at all costs. But oh, Dennis Miller, you are too much. The commercial for Miller's new show was broadcast on 660 WFAN all week, and it is a doozy. Some excerpts from the commercial: (I don't remember exactly, so I'm paraphrasing a bit)

"Now, folks, I don't mean to be the turd in the punchbowl, but calling big time collegiate athletes "students" is like calling Dr. J an M.D.

Oh, Dennis, you are fucking edgy. You may be the first person in the history of the NCAA to suggest that college athletes might not go to class or hand in assignments. Someone call ESPN, this has got to be reported ASAP! I mean, the thing you have to understand about Dennis is that not only does he have things to say, but he's not afraid to say them.

"Folks, reading the sports pages these days is more depressing than watching Britney dance!"

Huh? What is so depressing about sports today that wasn't there 10 or 20 years ago? And not only is Dennis edgy, but he knows his pop culture! Get it?! BRITNEY IS FAT AND GROSS!!!!1 Nothing really hits home with the kids quite like a Britney Spears Joke! Right guys? ...Right?

"What is it going to take to make us turn away? I guess al-Qaeda is going to have to buy the Cowboys and win the Super Bowl on the back of a rejuvenated OJ. And don't laugh, folks, Juice looked pretty spry on his latest perp-walk."

...Dennis, you've lost me. OK, so there's al-Qaeda and... OJ? Look, he makes juxtapositions that don't make sense! If you don't laugh, it means you're not smart enough to get it.

Dennis, spewing unfunny foolishness that makes no sense does not equal funny.

Oh, and, this is what real humor is.

Being Bland with ESPN's Own National Voice: Gene Wojciechowski

Some of Gene's thoughts* on recent sports news:

"You know, the Celtics really have a shot at being a playoff team this year."
"The Patriots, if they play exceptionally well, could go undefeated."
"Having a regular season NFL game in London? What's next, NBA in China?"
"Alex Rodriguez may not be worth $350 million."
"It seems Andy Reid may have some troubles at home."
"Call me crazy, but I think there's a chance OJ might have done it... the robbery, not the throat slicing!"
"Anyone ever notice Terrell Owens has kind of a big mouth?"
"Little known fact: Ray Lewis often dances in a humorous yet terrifying manner before games."
"I think that Adrian Peterson might have a productive career."
"Tank Johnson may have made some mistakes, but we should give him another chance."
"I think steroids may soon be an issue in baseball."
"I might be the first to notice this, but Shaquille O'Neal seems to have left his prime."
"That Tiger Woods sure is a ferocious competitor!"


*Gene did not actually say these things, but probably thought about them.

I could go on, but pretending to be Gene has caused me to fall asleep.

Jason Witten's Helmet-less Thoughts:

Before the Snap:


"Did you hear that guys! We're doing 36 Dog-Fly! That's a pass to me! Yippee! Oh boy, I'm gonna wave to Mom! Hi M- oh shit he said hike..."

The Catch:


"Ooohh here it comes.....GOT IT! Woohoo! Oh man maybe I'll score a touchdown, that would be sweeeet. Just gonna turn around and....FUCK WHO ARE THESE GUYS!?!"

The Hit:


"Ouchie Ouchie Ouchie! Goddammit that hurt! My God why do I play this game? Well next pla- wait, I'm still fucking standing! How the fuck am I not dead? Well I guess I'll just keep on running..."

No Helmet? No Problem!

"Wait, something's different...Oh my God I can see everything! Praise JESUS! You know this feels pretty good, I should run around with no helmet more often. But wait...isn't there a reason we wear those things? I mean besides being a great place to keep a peanut-butter and jelly sandwich....Oh yeah in case I get hit like I did before! Well I better run really fucking fast then. Maybe Terrell will have a really funny touchdown dance for Mr. NakedFace. Ha, I made that nickname up right now! I'm so clev-"

The Hit Numero Dos:

"Ahh, Motherfucker got me! Well it was a good run, maybe I'll make Sportscenter's Top 10. Oh I hope that Suzy Kolber announces it, that bitch is in my Top 10, Hey-O! Well I guess all that's left to do now is have some nerdy dude stick his finger in my nose while this creepy teammate watches..."

WTF?

A-Rod: Universal Bitch

The following conversation took place during Game 4 of the World Series. On stage in this edition of A-Rod: Universal Bitch are Scott Boras and Alex.

Alex: Scott, do you really think announcing that I'm opting out during a World Series game is a good idea?

Boras: Please, Alex, Mister Scott. And yes, you little pansy, this is how we're going to do it. I want to give those Yankees a good shot to the crotch when they least expect it, while simultaneously pissing off the Red Sox.

Alex: All right... if you say so. Don't you think this is going to make people dislike me even more? I mean, I once slapped the frikking ball out of that silly man who throws the ball's hand.

Boras: Could you please be a man and say "fuck" for once?

Alex: Eek! Mr. Scott, please don't offend my delicate ears in such a way! I just had them waxed?

Boras: You wax your ears, you girly man? I've heard enough, I'm going to have sex with your wife tonight.

Alex: Again?! You just had your way with her Saturday! She showed me the video. I really wish that you wouldn't do the Reverse Cowgirl on her.

Boras: Alex, that's a man's sex position. Just let that thought go from now, my bitch. I'm going to make you richer than Dante Bichette after he robbed that armored car!

Alex: Okey dokey! That means I can buy more of that sexy Derek Jeter perfume, right?

Boras: Uh... yeah, whatever, I guess. Alex, I want you to lay down on the ground, I'm going to put a golf tee in your mouth and hit a ball off it like in... in... what movie was that in?

Alex: Legally Blonde?

Boras: No, you queen! The Mask! That guy was such a badass.

Alex: My wife doesn't let me watch PG-13 movies, Mr. Scott.

Boras: Ha, oh yeah, she told me about that mid-moan on Saturday.

Alex: Whatever, sir, I wish you'd stop talking about my wife's No-No Zone.

Boras: That's because you're a bitch, Alex. Now go to the John Heyman you're opting out!

How will Alex handle opting out? Find out soon!

An interview with Andy Reid

As you all know, Andy Reid's two sons, Britt and Garett have been sentenced to jail time for living in what one judge called, "a drug emporium." Recently Sports Illustrated caught up with the Eagles coach to hear his side of the story...



Sports Illustrated: Mr. Reid, the very house you and your family call home was recently reffered to as a "drug emporium".
How do you feel about this?

Andy Reid: [entering through a cloud of smoke] *cough* *cough* heeeyy man, I know you... you're that reporter man! hehe

SI: Yes that's correct, I'm there after every home game. So, do you feel that 23 months in prison is too harsh?

AR: jeez man, 23 months? bummer. good thing we have that bye week coming up...

SI: And do you feel responsible for your sons' actions? Bear in mind, they are 22 and 24 years old?

AR: hey whatever, it's like, they can still crash at my place, no big deal...I just hope those lazy asses clean up the dominoes boxes next time...hey man you got any of those cinna-stix? damn i got the munchies...

SI: With all this attention on your home life, do you feel prepared to take on the Redskins on Sunday?

AR: whoa man, the what-skins? listen dude, if saturday at Travis Henry's is gonna be as bitchin' as Randy Moss told me it's gonna be, I'm gonna have no idea what's happening on sunday...

SI: Clinton Portis is coming off a great week, with 196 yards against the Jets. How do you plan on stopping the run?

AR: no way Portis is gonna be there! that's one crazy dude. did he ever tell you that time we got so high we thought we could run through a brick wall? long story short - always wear a helmet when smokin' up, maybe knee-pads too

SI: Final question Mr. Reid...

AR: whoa whoa whoa, Mr. Reid is my father! you call me andy, or a-dawg if you want...

SI: Right, A-Dawg, anything final thoughts you want to leave the readers with?

AR: don't put twinkies on your pizza!

SI: Well then, this has been the most pointless interview. I hope you lose all your games and get fired.

AR: alright bro, you have a good one too. and hey you know what happened to that Ricky Williams? that guy had some good stuff...

A Day in the Life of Bill Belichick

2:00am: Dream about new ways to score "fuck you" touchdowns.

3:00am: Wake up. Drink a cocktail of moose piss and virgin's souls.

3:15am: Get daily exercise by kicking puppies.

4:00am: Spend hours cackling about how you made Joe Gibbs your bitch.

7:00am: Game film. Study how many times Manning blinks, on the average, before each snap.

10:30am: Call Indianapolis police, tell them Bob Sanders has massive amounts of narcotics in his house, watch hilarity ensue.

11:00am: Work on evil cackle.

12:00pm: Create a new homeless guy sweatshirt. Those bad boys don't cut themselves!

1:00pm: Artificially inseminate whoever Tom Brady is sleeping with in order to make him want the big bucks that much more.

2:00pm: Lunch of Fat Bastard's diarrhea and kittens.

3:00pm: Arrive at practice, attempt to steal the souls of anyone who looks directly into your eyes. This succeeds 10% of the time.

3:30pm: Squeeze Moss' balls hard so he knows that he's YOUR bitch now.

4:30pm: Send 27 pizzas to Mangina's house, only to be disappointed when he eats all of them.

6:00pm: Have your personal secretary go to Bill Walsh's grave and spit on it.

7:00pm: Call Junior Seau and tell him he's a "Mary" until he cries.

8:00pm: Go to Wes Welker's house, tell him if he doesn't pull in 10 catches this week he'll start saying he has "deceptive speed." You know, like they say about every white receiver.

9:17pm-10:39pm: Sleep with the wives of every member of the Colts (coaching staff included!).

11:00pm: Shit fully baked potatoes for one full hour.

11:30pm: Call Parcells and tell him that you are "the master" now, and that he's old and weak. Bonus points for using a Darth Vader voice.

12:00am: Sacrifice one of Brady's goats, lock self in coffin bed till morning.

They beat me to it...

Some clever son of a gun out there came up with a new nickname for the Red Sox rookie sensation. Since the young outfielder stole a base, and won America free tacos, he has been dubbed:


Tacoby Bellsbury



Seriously, how perfect is that? What other possible combination of first and last names has "aco" and "ell" already in it!? It's even in the right order! All year long I thought 'Jacoby' was a weird name, but now it all makes sense.

This is like the fat dude in *NSync being named Joey FatOne. I mean, that was pure magic, and now this is pretty close. Unless his name was like, Lee Pacos or Jimmy McFourthmeal, this could not be any better.