Fuck, I need to write-up the cheerleader post. Gotta write something funny, something for the end of the week, but why? These assholes are just gonna spank it to the pic and then take a nap. Who cares? It’s almost filler, like the We Have To Ask post on Deadspin. Just get a few comments from the peeps and we’re good.

Wow, I haven’t written shit in like two weeks. This is not good. We’ve all been kinda slacking, though. So much going on with free agency and the draft, too. The Browns want Trent Green, are they fucking serious? Roger Goodell trying to be all Mother Superior and shit. Good luck, Opie. No creative juices in my juice. I guess Drew shouldn’t have taken the espresso machine out of the KSK break room. So sleepy…

I got a hedgehog about three weeks ago. Her name is Betty. I named her after America Ferrera’s character on that one show. Sorry, there’s no fucking way I’m naming a hedgehog “America.” That’s something the fucking Somalis would do.

Nice work, Punter, cracking on the Somalis like that. Get ready for all that Somalian hate mail now, you shithead. You better hope those assholes haven’t figured out how to send anthrax in a jpeg attachment.

Holy shit, I’m just rambling now. Four paragraphs in and I haven’t said a fucking thing. You think this might be a good spot to wrap it up? That’s it. Just drop it in there now.

Good.

Damn, she has got it going on. Alright, now say something witty about how she looks. Say that you’d eat walnuts out of her ass. No, you dipshit, you say that about EVERYBODY! I think you even said that about Ufford once. You fucking homo.

Hey, dipshit? You can stop typing anytime, or at least not type EVERY FUCKING THOUGHT that creeps into you sick fucking head. Am I really swearing in my head this much? How would I even know?

Fuck, I really can’t stop. I am just a rambling fuckknob at this point. Wow, fuckknob looks really weird in type, with that double-k and all. Tex is talking to me about options now. This is Tex’s last day. You don’t care. Sweet Christ, what am I doing?

God, if Andie and Save The Steagles had a wet t-shirt contest, I think my pants would explode. Should I try to meet Will in Atlanta this weekend? I’m pretty sure weightlifting and online chess cancel each other out. Why does my asshole itch so much? Stop! STOP! STOOOOOOP!!!!

I think I need a Diet Coke. Yeah, that sounds good.