Fuck This, I'm Out

I've finally been pushed too far. Just because I look lik we a beaten up Adam Sandler with a goofy haircut doesn't mean I don't have feelings, too. You bastards heard me right, I want a trade out of this sad excuse for a city. Willis pulled it off last year, so why can't I?

I mean, I guess it helped that McGahee was actually a good player. But, come on, my record speaks for itself! I led this team to a 7-9 record last year. That's one win away from mediocrity! My 19 touchdowns and 14 interceptions were practically Pro Bowl worthy numbers. Well, I mean, if you add ten touchdowns and subtract five picks, I'm right up there with the best! Right? Guys?

No response? That's what I'm used to from this team, anyway. This year, after Everett almost got "paralyzed for life" (exaggeration, hello!) no one stopped to say, "Oh, J.P., you played great today!" There was no "J.P., are you going to be OK after seeing your teammate injured like that?" It was all about Kevin and how Kevin was doing.

That Trent Edwards is a real piece of shit, anyway. Just because he has a great attitude and better overall skills than me doesn't mean he should replace me. I've been fucking with that guy all year long, just so he knows who the real starting quarterback is in these parts. That little shit didn't think everything was so cool when I called him and told him Kevin died in a hospital bed. That really showed him.

Anyway, I'm ready to take my considerable talents to a contender who will really appreciate me. Someone like the Jets, maybe. I've always heard they've been tolerant of new players breaking into the system. I'm going to a be a star, a huge star! And you're all going to be sorry you didn't appreciate Jonathan Paul while he was here!

Oh, and Everett, I ate all your pudding while you were knocked out by morphine, bitch!