The Twelve Days of Christmas isn’t just an a stupid fucking song; it’s also a list of presents so shitty that I wouldn’t even consider bestowing them upon the sex slave locked in my basement, let alone a loved one. Seriously, if somebody got me a partridge in a pear tree I’d fucking kill the bitch. The rest of the list isn’t much better; turtle doves, french horns, and lords a-leaping…even Kordell Stewart and Michael Westbrook think that wedding would be a bit too gay.

Aside from the nine ladies dancing and possibly the eight maids a-milking (if it is what I think it is) the list is filled with more useless crap than your average broadcast of Around the Horn. Needless to say I’ve taken it upon myself to rectify this debacle by coming up with twelve presents that us as degenerate football players can truly appreciate. Below I’ve listed the first six (of an eventual twelve) different gifts as well as their intended giver and receiver.

To: Eli Manning
From: Cooper Manning

A Job Offer- If Cooper weren’t all fucked up in the spine he could have been a really shitty football player. Not only is he a Manning but he was also a wide receiver who ran a 4.7 40. Despite these setbacks he will probably go down in history as the world’s most successful Manning. The least he could do is give Eli a boost into the world of energy commodities, this NFL thing just isn’t working out. Hell, Peyton is a good football player and even he can’t win win shit.

To: Terrell Owens
From: DeAngelo Hall Drew Bledsoe KSK Everyone on Earth not named Romo

A refill on the Vicodin script- Do me a favor and put down whatever you’re doing…don’t worry, that Fistin’ Fellons website isn’t going anywhere. Now close your eyes and picture a world without the cocksuckery of one Terrell Eldorado Owens…so, you jackin’ it yet, because I know I am.

To: Joe Namath
From: Bonnie Bernstein and KSK

A flask, a cameraman, and a bare-assed Bonnie Berstein (the dreaded “Reverse Shiksappeal”)- The members of this site were so enamored with Namath’s brilliant woo job onSuzy Kolber that we dedicated our lives to covering events of such magnitude throughout the NFL. Sadly nothing can ever live up to that piece of drunken sex begging, unless he does it again!

To: Hollis Thomas, Shawne Merriman, Odell Thurman, Ricky Williams
From: Huey Lewis via unemployed scientists

A new drug- All four of these guys have been suspended within the past year for violating the league’s biggest buzzkill, the Substance Abuse Policy. It’s about time we got some new drugs out of the science community. Yeah a lot of guys are working to develop steroids and other performance enhancers that can beat the test, but would it kill them to develop some fun shit? How much more fun would the NFL be if half of the Ravens defense was doing a little pre-game elephant flipping? A lot more!

To: Roger Goodell and Underlings
From: Football fans everywhere

An elbow of chronic- This league would be infinitely more entertaining if the suits would just loosen the fuck up every now and then. That’s why I’ve decided to forgo their earned present (coal) and give them a present that benefits everyone. If Goodell and co. could just pass a blunt around the room maybe they’d let some shit go. Take for example the shoes Chad Johnson was sporting during warmups (before Merton “the Neck Traitor” Hanks fined him), those weren’t hurting anybody but they were the hottest shit on the field. Why the fuck does the NFL have such a problem with free expression? Because they don’t have the chronic of course!

To: Unsilent Majority
From: San Diego Chargers

The hook up- First Terrence Kiel gets busted for the lean and now some unnamed entrepreneur(s) has been trafficking knockoff shoes? I need to get in on this shit, I may be a sneakerhead but that doesn’t mean I’m above wearing some fakes. My dream is to be ghetto fab, what I need is a bottle of purple drank and some fake Dunks. That’s livin’ large.

Check back at a later date for Part 2.

Is the camera on me? Is it on? Did you check? I don’t see the red light. Well, check it AGAIN. Why is the camera man so far away? Zoom in. No, I wanna be in more of the shot, you fucking zombies. Bring it in on me. Do you know where I got these glasses? Marc Jacobs. They cost more than your household’s income for a year. So get a good fucking shot, or I’ll just make you do it again.

Is it my turn to talk yet? Albom’s still fucking talking. He’s been talking for 30 seconds now. I’ve been timing it. It’s my fucking turn to talk. Are you looking at me? I’m sitting all the way at the front of my seat. That should indicate to you that I am READY TO CHIME IN. In fact, my ass isn’t even touching the chair, that’s how far forward I am. I am the goddamn crouching tiger. Look at Ryan. He’s sitting all the way back in his chair. Does he have anything to say? No. Lazy shit. Read my fucking body cues, people.

Pffffffffftttttt!!!! Who gave me this tea? Who?! That girl? Come here, Guadalupe, or whatever your name is. Let me let you in on a little secret, my dear. You remember Mr. Schaap? The nice old man who used to be here? Remember how he died due to malpractice? Yeah, well that wasn’t malpractice. That was Lupica. I am the star here now, and you better fucking get used to it. So when I tell you that I want Earl Grey, I don’t expect you to bring me fucking sawdust in a Tetley bag. Okay, sweetheart? Tazo. T-A-Z-O. See if you can get that into that teeny tiny itsy bitsy wittle brain of yours. Stupid bitch.

And while we’re at it, honey, who told you I drink Deer Park? Deer Park is for the poor saps in payroll. Everyone at Valerio Productions knows Lupica drinks Voss, chilled to exactly 38 degrees Fahrenheit. So why don’t you do your homework before giving me this prison sludge? Frankly, I’m amazed you managed to get out of Nicaragua, or Costa Rica, or wherever the fuck it is you’re from. Oh, you’re crying? You thought I was a nice man, didn’t you? Sorry, sweetie. My heart only bleeds for the camera.

Is Albom done? Yes, he’s done. About fucking time. That was a nice parting shot, Albom. But you’re the undercard, pussy. The people aren’t here to see you. Always remember that. I’m about to blow you out of the fucking water. When I’m done, no one will remember whatever hockey bullshit it was you were talking about. Go write another book about people dying, douchebag. I’m about to school you. Take notes and maybe you’ll be able to earn enough money to fix whatever the fuck is going on with the tops of your ears.

I’m ready now. My voice is feeling supple. What I’m gonna do is start off with a killer joke. Okay? Here it is:

You know, maybe it’s me, but I think Roger Goodell must be taking commissioning lessons from Bud Selig.

Okay, I’m going to half-snicker at my own killer joke now, which is the cue for you three bozos to start guffawing like the idiots that you are. Then, when you’re done laughing at my comedic majesty, I’m gonna turn deadly serious. It’s gonna show off my range. Watch.

But seriously. If Goodell thinks he can just sweep steroids under the rug, then he is doomed to repeat baseball’s history. Because there’s a story about steroids and the NFL that has yet to be written. And rest assured, someone will write it. And, when they do, the same bloodhounds that picked at baseball’s decade-old scabs will pick up a fresh scent… the scent of pigskin.

BOOM! Fucking nailed it. You see how literary that was? It’s almost like I’m outside of my own body when I’m doing it. That’s how special it feels. That’s the kind of sportswriting that wins you awards, gentlemen. The kind that gets you on Letterman. How many of you assholes have been on Letterman? That’s right. Zero. Check and mate. Live with the pain.

Okay, what I’m gonna do now is wrap it all up with one killer fucking line. Something for the kids to think about the rest of the day.

So Goodell better hurry, or else he’ll find out the hard way, as baseball did, that ignorance is a miss.

See how I took the phrase “ignorance is bliss” and just gave it that little twist? God, what a dagger. It makes you laugh. It makes you ponder. It makes you wistfully nostalgic. It makes me cream my Brooks Brothers suit pants. You know what? I think I want to shoot it again.

Did you hear me? I said I want to shoot it again. Matter of fact, I don’t see my book on the coffee table here. WHERE THE FUCK IS MY BOOK?! You think I come here as a gift?! I want to do it again, and I want my book in the shot. And, if we have to do it 36 times over, we will. What I say, goes. I fucking own you people.

Just ask Whitlock.

The Colts’ D, who haven’t stopped the run all year, stopped the run. They shut us the fuck down. Depressing, especially since it’s the first Bengals game I’ve had the chance to watch since we were beat down by New England. Everyone has been recycling Miami Hurricanes jokes from the 1990s making jokes about how none of our players can stay out of trouble. I say, just like every other fan of his/her team would say when trouble strikes, “As long as we’re winning, it’s all good.” This isn’t a Pampered Chef party.

Someone needs to break it down to Bengals HNIC Marvin Lewis. Marv, my man, what is the point of benching your best DB in a game against Peyton Manning? Yeah, The Rogg called you up. Fuck that guy. HE isn’t trying to make the playoffs. Deltha got arrested, fine, but you still gotta play him (do I get time of work when I get arrested?), especially when:
a) His assignment is one of the premeire receivers in the league, and
b) His replacement is white.

You’re gonna play a white DB against Peyton Manning? Hey, that’s great. And while you’re in such a opportunistic mood, why not double your fun and play some Jews and Chinamen? Does anybody even say “Chinamen” anymore? No? Fuck it, I’m bringing “Chinamen” back. Them other fuckers don’t know how to act. Wang, let me make up for all the things you lack. Somethin somethin.

Oh, and we finally found out where Merton Hanks’ neck vertebrae went after all these years; they’re lodged up his ass.

It was reported during the Monday Night game that Hanks, the spastic 49ers defensive back turned gestapho league uniform inspector got a load of the new shoes that Chad Johnson was busting out for the Indy game that Hanks FINED HIM DURING WARM-UPS for wearing the shoes, and then THREATENED TO PULL HIM FROM THE GAME unless he changedn them. Ocho Cinco relented. So, not only is Hanks a puddle of imperialistic cocksnot, Merton Hanks also seems to be Chad Johnson’s mom.

But this incident was just a microcosm of the general-unwelcomeness/skullfucking that the Bengals received on MNF last night. It was brutal, especially now that locking up that playoff berth will take at least another week. I liken this game to opening the big box under the Christmas tree, only to find a bunch of pants and shit. Who the fuck wants pants?

It’s finally official: for whatever reason, the Weblog Awards people didn’t strip us of our title, so you can expect another 12 months or so of us referring to ourselves as “award-winning” and the “Best Sports Blog.” I’m sure it won’t get old at all.

Some people seem to be opposed to our victory in the bullshit election process, probably because after Deadspin, the #1 referrer to KSK is usually a Google search of “bukkake.”

I take umbrage to that. We provide a vital service to people looking for important information. For example, last night, while looking through our site referrals, I found that someone came to KSK by conducting the following Google search (and I quote):

With that, here’s our self-congratulatory victory lap, as told in images.

(The answer, of course, is no fewer than 10 inches fully erect. Less than that and you’ll never write for KSK. Although if you’re under three inches, SI.com is hiring.)

I went to a holiday party this weekend. I told two people I won a blogging award. I may was well have whipped out a Starfleet Academy student ID. This award blows. A Cable Ace award has more cachet. I need to a better award, like Girthiest Schlong, or Best Hair (Seriously, my hair is gorgeous. Thick. Full. Lustrous. Men and women alike swoon over it.).

Now, there are two ways to do a mailbag. You can either post the question and then answer it, or you can do what Dr. Z does and simply write the answers, leaving every other reader utterly baffled as to what the question was.

To John in Lexington, you know what? You’re right. It was a fly pattern. And thanks for the Barolo.

Wait, what?

I think we’ll do it the first way. Let’s cream this cracker. Some emails were cut down a bit, but otherwise most are posted as written, even including your spelling and grammar mistakes. Let it be your mark of shame.

Dear Dr. Drew - I am a Vikings fan, like yourself, and wonder what your thoughts are on the total suckness that is Brad Johnson of late. Do you happen to think that he’s intentionally throwing games because he’s paid about as much as Mike Epps these days and is trying to make a point? Or does he truly suck, and is not worth bringing back next year? Statistically Brad Johnson’s year is an anomaly, which is why I believe he’s throwing games. Your thoughts?

Thanks,
Josh Benesh , MN

Well Josh, the clitoris is located just above the entry point of… oh, I’m sorry. It said Dr. Drew, so I put on my “sensible sex therapist” hat for just a moment. If Brad Johnson threw a game, it would only go 3 yards. Is he worth bringing back next year? Uh, no. I’d rather have Mike Buck. T-Jack looked good against the Jets. Anyone would in relief of Oldie McNoodlearm.

Pac or B.I.G.?, or any other rap artist you deem the best at his/her craft and don’t tell me you’d rather stick a fork in your eye than listen to rap. Oh yeah, would you let Nate Newton solely deliver what’s obviously going to be a surplus of fan-mail for BDD? He might be interested.

-Sean, Dallas, Texas

You’re asking me a hip hop question? Has my complete and utter whiteness not been made perfectly obvious? I like hip hop, but like rock, you have to wade through an awful lot of shit to find something good. Anyway, my two favorite hip hop artists are A Tribe Called Quest and The Pharcyde, which is the answer all 30-year-old white people give. But damn if “Electric Relaxation” doesn’t make me want to dry hump anything within a 10-yard radius (daughter excluded). And, so no one calls me a copout, I’ll take Tupac. But both are excellent drinking music.

Oh, and I got 24 emails. Sean Landeta could deliver this mailbag.

what up drew,
what do you think the chances are that vince young will be the first quarterback (to my knowledge) to undergo tommy john surgery?

Dave, Iowa

Good point. But when you’re Vince Young, you can pull off throwing like a girl. He could play in a tutu and still be a badass. But wait, Dave has more:

oh a side note, about rex grossman. I’ve heard an inordinate ammount of stories about the “sex cannon’s” past drug use, prior to entering the nfl. I’ve no idea how true any of them are, but it makes you wonder. this would include:
-Smoking up before each of his high school fb games. not a huge deal really.
-But then there’s the nickname “Rexstacy” from his Florida days.
-Then there’s a buddy of mine who moved out to LA for a few years. He bounced around, and was kinda being a bum. Anyhow, he met a kid who went to Florida. The kid from Florida claimed that his roomate used to sell Grossman coke.

Now, I don’t know how true any of this is, at all, but to misuse the classic Terrell Owens quote, “if it looks like a rat, and it smells like a rat, by golly it’s rat.”

Rexstacy is a damn near perfect nickname. I can hear him throwing a TD and screaming, “Oh, I’m in the throes of rexstacy, sluts!” As for the coke, I think that’s obvious from his play on the field.

Whats up with your unnatural obsession with bukkake?

PS: spell check for bukkake comes up Hanukkah
-lbutler

Well, when I was a kid, I accidentally fell into this sand pit someone had dug at the beach. I screamed for help, but the only people that came were a group of drunken lifeguards. And, instead of helping me, they…

I think I’ve said too much. Let’s move on.

So, how much cocaine does Chris Berman go through in a given day?

-A.I.

Not as much as Rexstacy. Weren’t you supposed to be traded by now?

What happened to Footsteps Falco?
dale, San Fran. CA

Falco is regarded by many as the quiet genius of our group. You don’t know this, but Falco volunteered early on to drop 65 tabs of LSD a day and email us with whatever was currently going on in his mind. Here’s an excerpt:

“riverrun, past adam and eve’s, and HOLY FUCK A CHIMERA! AGGGGGHHHH THE FIRE! THE FIRE STINGS MY GUMS!!!! HE FEASTS UPON MY INSIDES! No, no, no, mother! Don’t come at me with that paring knife! Little Billy was only eight! Who took my Dunkaroos? Whoever took my Dunkaroos, there will be hell to pay!!!! I like paint. Why are the walls all flapping?!”

Clearly, he’s our Syd Barrett.

Can you name the last time you witnessed something so sad as a second year, 6th round QB getting his first chance to start on national television only to have his teammates railroad him like a rented stripper at a 90’s Cowboys late night? Derek Anderson did just about everything he could to win, but between the miriad of dropped passes, the complete impotence of the running game, and the general construction crew work ethic (and talent level) of the defensive line the Cleveland Browns got raped on pseudo-national television. Neat-o gang!

-Dan, Cleveland

Don’t hold back, Dan. Tell me exactly how you feel. The tragedy of the Browns is just how untalented they are. Even Oakland and Arizona fall ass backwards into a good player now and then. There are two talented players on the Browns: Winslow and Braylon. And they are both Class A buttfucks.

How many sportscasters will miss the unintentional comedy of Mississippi State having a football recruit named Mike Hunt?

-Lou Pickney

Unintentional comedy? Sorry, we only traffic in intentional comedy here, since we know how to write actual jokes, instead of pointing out things we think are funny.

I actually managed to get the signature Mike Hunt into my senior class’ yearbook (the one they put in the school library). However, the other joke name I wrote, Heywouldyouliketo Suckmyhairycock, was too clever by half.

Great blog, but there’s just one thing, KSK: Do you have to use so many cuss words?
-Brad K.

What the fuck you talking about?

Drew,

Thank You,
Warren Niffenegger

Warren, your last name is totally racist. The Raiders will draft Brady Quinn. And he’ll suck. But, I assure you, it won’t be because he was “ruined”.

Would it be ok to root for my team (the Rams) to lose with the hope that the losing would lead to more winning? Your thoughts would be most likely uneducated, but somewhat appreciated.

Yours in sports addiction and wasting time on the Internets,
Brad_Lee from St. Louis

No, it’s not all right. Rooting against your team never works and makes you feel like an ass. So don’t do it. Unless you have money against them. Or a fantasy player playing against them. Or… eh, what the fuck do I care? It’s the Rams. Send death threats to the front office, for all I care. It’s not like they haven’t done likewise.

Why is the media so unwilling to give Parcells credit for being the first lesbian head football coach in the National Football League?
Thanks. I’ll hang up and listen.
Bad Barbecue

You’re right. The pleated khaki shorts seal it. Parcells sucks pussy! All he needs now is a Cavalier King Charles that looks like him.

You’re a raving anti-dentite!! Next you’ll be saying is they should have their own schools.

Kevin

But they do have their own schools!

Hey Drew
As a fellow Vikings fan, would it be safe to mail the rest of the season in and start looking back at the glory days of our favorite team?

MN Dudeman

Why don’t you just cheer for the fucking Rams, assfuck?

Who is your least favorite player in the NFL and why?

Mike from Minneapolis

Besides Favre? Warren Sapp. He’ll go the Hall of Fame one day and Jon Randle won’t. All because he’s nice to the media. Fuck him. Fucking fuckface fuckstick donkeyfuck. Fuck.

And Jeremy Shockey. Who the fuck likes Jeremy Shockey? He’s the K-Fed of football. I hope he gets run over by a bike messenger.

Hypothetical: you get into a bar fight that spills into an alley. its you vs. about 5 big dudes, but you can pick one active NFL player to have your back. who are your top 5 choices? I guess, in essence, who are the 5 meastliest dudes out there in your opinion.

-Sean F. (Astoria)

I go with Jeff Garcia, because he’d be attacked first. Which gives me time to run.

Dear Big Daddy Drew,

J.T.

Wasn’t Wayne Fontes generally regarded as a very nice man? Al Davis is a much better candidate to play the Villainous Jew Heat Miser, or the Other Villainous Jew Grinch.

Hey Drew,
What’s the opposite of Measty?
-Steve Palefsky

Rumphy. But really, since Meast is defined here as half-meat, half-moist, you’d have to pick something dry and non-meaty. Nicole Ritchie’s vagina, for instance. Guhhhhhh…

Hey BDD,

Just finished watching the 1130pm news here in the Whale’s Vagina. The overly giddy sports dork casually mentioned that the Chargers press release for tomorrow’s game is 35 pages, but the Broncos packet is 172 pages. For a game 14 weeks into the season, what in God’s name would the Broncos need 172 pages to cover effectively? An in-depth breakdown of the strengths and weaknesses of each Charger Girl? What do you think this report contains? I need some edumacated insight here.
-The Angry Rant

Page 1 - Pass plays for Jay Cutler
Pages 2-171 - Chop blocking techniques
Page 172 - Instructions for handing Coach Shanahan. Instruction #1: Please turn Coach over in tanning bed once every hour or until crisp. Instruction #2: Please do not mention child-scaring overbite.

Please don’t ever stop posting, my days in the office would become too much to handle.

-Brandon

By the title alone is pretty impressive. Actually, it’s not that hard to do it by content. You can usually guess the KSK author by the following criteria:

Drew: Mentions masturbation
CC: Mentions fighting in Iraq. Then mentions it again.
UM: Mentions Jewyness
Punter: Links to donkey porn
Flubby: Mentions hatred of you and the team you root for
Ape: Mentions… Christ, do we have to mention that fucking team again?
Falco: Mentions nothing.

There’s your mailbag. If you thought the KSK mailbag was stupid, say so in the comments and we’ll get rid of it. If you like it, send new questions to drsteuss1@yahoo.com or kissingsuzykolber@gmail.com. Be sure to include a link if you want us to link to your non-award-winning blog.

The Saints lost at home to the Redskins. No, seriously. The offense that put up 44 against Dallas a week ago got just 10 against the lowly ‘Skins.

Washington hasn’t fucked New Orleans like this since Katrina.

What, too soon?

Eat it, 1999 Denver Broncos.

With their seventh win of the season, this year’s Steelers officially avoid the ignominy of having the worst record of a defending champ by Rumphing the Delhomme-less Panthers 37-3. And really, thank fuck for that. As much as I’m stilling reveling from last year, it tends to wear on one hearing enough of the Steelers detractors using the Murphy’s Law-themed first half of this season as some sort of justification that last year’s team was wholly undeserving of the Super Bowl title. Let’s conveniently ignore that the team was 15-1 the year before, shall we?

There are far, far more suffering sports franchises out there, but I was born in 1982, so the extent of my Steelers glory prior to 2005 was four lost AFC Championship games at home and Neil O’Donnell’s lancing of my soul. Having a team that gets tantalizingly close year to year but fails to close the deal is pretty damn dispiriting too.

Chances are Roethlisberger will get whatever brains he has remaining sorted out in the offseason and return somewhere close to form next year, provided the Steelers can firm up their O-line and rouse Cowher out of his fugue. Some fans might wonder whether Pittsburgh should tank its final two games to get better draft position. Under different circumstances, I might be inclined to agree, but they have the Ravens and Bengals coming up and I’ll be damned if the Steelers should lie down for AFC North foes when they could instead injure all their key players hurt their playoff position.

And if I can break up the homerism a bit: the day after the Steelers won the Super Bowl I was called into work at 8 a.m. (I had gone to bed 4 a.m.-ish and had fervently requested the day off). I threw up on my lap on the drive into work (I was on the highway and couldn’t pull over) and threw up again in the bathroom when I got to the office. My Seahawks (and Duke) supporting colleague, somehow not hungover himself, got in many a hearty laugh at my expense. So there, Seahawks, some minor measure of revenge. So let’s be pals, you losers.

…and you thought I there would be no gambling advice…

Welcome to a special Hannukah Saturday edition of Always Be Closing. Today we’re going to take a look at the NFL Network’s latest marketing catastrophe. Can Mike Vick actually win three in a row down the stretch? Will Dallas come out from under their cot after last week’s jailhouse raping? Read on for all the answers you’ll need to keep you in lamp oil for life!

If I weren’t Jewish this might not come off quite right.

Dallas -4.5 at Atlanta

Atlanta may have won two in a row, but they’re still 2-4 ATS and 2-4 straight up in the past six weeks. Now the team is going through some shit that might keep them off their game. Ron Mexico’s brother/sidekick is getting sued for fuckin’ the teenies and everybody thinks he should play running back. Then there was Jim Mora’s little radio joke, which was a bit more deadpan than you’d expect from the son of Mora the Elder. I’m confident that Bill Parcells has figured out a way to turn this thing around. Most likely he let Tony Romo titty-fuck him.

In honor of the holiday, and because I love living up to the assumptions of others regarding our flagrant use of attractive women on our humble little site, here is the sexiest Jewess in the world not named Sarah Silverman.

What do you get when you threaten to humiliate a reporter’s daughter, call Bill Simmons a fucktard, use the word “fuck” as a frequent writing crutch, post lots of YouTube clips as filler, and shamelessly suckle off the teat of Will Leitch?

A major fucking award, that’s what.

That’s right. Kissing Suzy Kolber has won the 2006 Weblog Best Sports Blog award. We’re officially the best sports blog on the internet (um, pending verification). The entire internet. Even the Danish one. Lick it.

Now, I think you know what happens next: millions of dollars, international acclaim, a ruthless cocaine habit that knows no bottom, untold numbers of groupies banged and STD’s contracted, and a bitter, bitter break up. But before all that happens next week, there are four groups of people who deserve our genuine thanks for helping us win this thing:

Will Leitch. Let’s be honest. All Will had to do was say, “Hey, go vote for Deadspin!” a couple times and we would have been smoked like Chris Henry’s rolling papers. Leitch let us win. And, man, does it feel good. I tell you, there’s no more satisfying way to win anything. I’ll take that shit every day and twice on Sunday. I’ll even include a flattering picture of him as thanks. Who knew Annie Liebovitz was a Deadspin reader?

KSK came out of Deadspin, and I think it’s fair to say that Deadspin has established itself as the finest sports site on the internet today. Not just among blogs. So Will’s generosity and endorsement are most certainly appreciated.

Then again, Will gets paid. So fuck him.

Whoever nominated us. We didn’t do it. We didn’t even know the awards existed. Someone pointed it out to us. According to the awards site, here’s how nominees were picked:

There was a call for nominations early in November for all of the categories. There were around 4,500 nominations overall for the various categories. The list of nominees was pared down by myself (Kevin Aylward) and a team volunteers. For the most part if a site was not nominated it wasn’t even considered as a finalist, though in categories with a small number of nominees we had to do some research. In some cases blogs nominated in one category were shifted to other categories we felt were more appropriate.

It’s clear now what occurred. Someone was kind enough to nominate us, and then Kevin mixed us up with George Will’s Web Record of Erudite 1870’s Baseball Recollections and Overly Pedantic Foreign Policy Commentary. Happens ALL THE FUCKING TIME. So thanks to whoever did that. You truly did the Lord’s work. That Lord being Louis Cyphre, Crown Prince of Darkness.

Everyone who voted for us. Over 2,000 people voted for us. Well, not including the seven of us. Multiple times. And our friends and families and random passersby in the street who were also asked (strong-armed) to vote for us. Again, multiple times. So that leaves at least 4 of you. Frankly, the fact that anyone voted for us is both touching and a sign of the coming Rapture. No need for you to wear your clothes tomorrow. Jesus will take you au naturel. Heaven, apparently, is a nudist colony.

Thanks to everyone who voted for us. The fact that anyone reads this shit blows my mind every day. I cannot tell you how much we appreciate it. And finally, special thanks go out to…

Us. God, we’re good. We’re just so fucking good. I love me some virtual me.

Thanks again. It’s all steeply downhill from here, lads!

NOTE: We’ve also had our sports blogging championship ring already commissioned. Have a look.

I think it looks quite sharp, no?

As we near the end of the Best Sports Blog election process, and the likelihod of self-congratulatory circle-jerking becomes ever more freakishly possible, I thought I’d take a look around the Interwebs to see what was being said about our little corner of the sports blogosphere.

No matter what happens with the Weblog Awards or — in the grander scheme of things — the future of this site, thanks, everybody, for taking notice of us. We’re here only to have fun and share a few laughs about the NFL.

“The only NFL site worth reading.” - Deadspin

“Hilarious deviants.” - Dan Shanoff

“Kissing Suzy Kolber’s upside potential [is] pretty much limitless.” - Mister Irrelevant

“I strongly urge you to check out Kissing Suzy Kolber. Easily the funniest NFL-related site on the interwebs.” - Marcel Mutoni

“‘Is it OK to poke fun at [the T.O. pill overdose]?’ I couldn’t do it myself, but… if you’re familiar at all with the Kissing Suzy Kolber blog, you can probably guess where they came down on the issue. Big. Fucking. Green light.” - the mighty mjd

“Kissing Suzy Kolber is the funniest sportswriting on the Internet, now that The Sports Guy is in the business of reader responses and web chats.” - Harvard Independent

“Warning - some comments may be offensive.” - Scoopwatch

“One of the most sarcastic, meanest and — yes — funniest NFL blogs around.” - Eye on Foxborough

“We’re not sure if the blog name is ironic or not.” - Sports Column Blog

“Either the guys [at KSK] are wonderful writers, or most sportswriting is bad… I’m going with the latter.” - Two Guys Who Never Agree

“I won’t include a link [to KSK], lest I be accused of peddling family-unfriendly material on this site.” - Red State Sports

“If you all at KSK were even within striking distance of [Bill Simmons's] entertainment value, I would read you regularly. But you are not. So I do not. So fuck off. And please, please hold on tightly to your day jobs.” - A commenter

“These people could care less about NASCAR, and they believe all of its fans are brainless inbreds with Confederate flag tattoos.” - The Diecast Dude

“Kissing Suzy Kolber takes the low road in using a picture of a beautiful woman to entice readers to vote for them for best sports blog.” - Baseball Musings

Ahhh, good times. Here’s Janette from the Eagles, most recently seen at With Leather. Vote for us.