The draft is finally here this week. Hey, nice job making us wait two months longer than is necessary, NFL! I really wanted to wait week after agonizing week until the draft finally showed up on what will inevitably be the nicest day of spring. Asses. This week, we’ll be asking notable celebrities from the world of TV, politics, and more to give us their thoughts on this year’s selection meeting. Next up: actor and model parent Alec Baldwin.
“Hey I wanna tell you draftees something okay, and I wanna leave a message for you right now because again its 10:30 here in New York on a Wednesday and once again I’ve made an ass of myself trying to see you assholes work out at a specific time. When the time comes for me to come see you little fuckers lift weights, or run on turf, or do vertical leaps, or eat as many blueberry pies as you can, I stop whatever I’m doing and I go and I grab my short shorts, clipboard, and stopwatch. And I come to the Notre Dame or Ohio State or whatever the fuck it is campus at eleven-o-clock in the morning and you and your pathetic Zionist Jew agent (who probably has no sympathy at all for the plight of the Palestinians) aren’t there and you don’t even have your god damn phone turned on. How dare you insult me. I was nominated for an Oscar. You majored in kinesiology. Advantage: Me.
“I want you to know something okay, I’m tired of playing this game with you. Especially you, Alan Branch. Your leg is fucked and I know it. I’m leaving this message with you to tell you, you little shits have insulted me for the last time. You have insulted me, you don’t have the brains or the decency as a human being, I don’t give a damn if you’re 22-years-old, or 23-years-old, or 27-years-old if you went to Oklahoma State, or that you have the mental capacity of a small child like my useless daughter Ireland, or that Jim Tressel is a thoughtless pain in the ass, who doesn’t care about what you do as far as I’m concerned, you have humiliated me for the last time with this workout, and when I come out there next week, I’m gonna fly out there for the day just to straighten you out on this issue.
“I’m gonna let you know just how disappointed in you I am and how angry I am with you that you’ve done this to me again. I have a mock draft that I show to everyone that is always at least 22% percent accurate, and you are fucking it up. You have made me feel like shit and you have made me feel like a fool over and over and over again, and this crap you pull on me with this god damn work out situation that you would never dream of doing to Ron Wolf and you do it to me constantly, and over and over again. Fuck you all. I’m not gonna record any more joke answering machine messages for you and your friends. Nor will I do my underrated DeNiro impression for you, nor will I recite any lines from “Glengarry Glen Ross” for you. Kiss my black ass.
“I am gonna get on a plane or I am gonna come out there for the day and I’m gonna straighten your ass out when I see you, do you understand me? I’m gonna really make sure you get it. I’m gonna slim down to my Jack Ryan/”Miami Blues” weight and grab your sorry ass by the lapels and paralyze you with my intense gaze. Then I’m gonna get on a plane and I’m gonna turn around and I’m gonna come home. Then I’m going to make a pasta salad. So you better be ready Saturday, the 28th, to meet with me so I’m gonna let you know just how I feel about what rude little pigs you really are. You are rude thoughtless little pigs, okay. Especially Jamarcus. He’s very piggy.”
Ah, precious YouTube: you save us on mornings when nothing is ready. However, in this instance, we’re not microwaving leftovers you’ve seen before or just putting up some animals killing each other that Drew saw on Animal Planet. No, we actually have something brand new to our favorites series of tubes, and - bonus! - it’s actually NFL-related.
Shocking, I know.
Anyhoo, this is the newest video from BradyFan83 — best known around the Interwebs for the Kenny Loggins Rogers-inspired “Brady” — and it’s dedicated to a man who for so long stood in Tom Brady’s shadow.
I’m always annoyed when some newspaper has a columnist watch the entire NFL Draft and then file a sarcastic report about how boring it is. You know what? Fuck you. The Draft is an oasis in the middle of the seven excruciating months that is the NFL offseason. Millions of people like it and enjoy it. So suck my balls, Michael Wilbon:
I hate the NFL draft. I realize that saying anything against the draft amounts to blasphemy, but somebody’s got to do it. The NFL draft is the most overrated, overhyped, obsessively overcovered non-event in sports. It’s a nuisance, made-for-TV-by-TV event for people who couldn’t tell a left tackle from a right guard, or zone from man-to-man coverage to save their mamas’ lives.
Well, aren’t you just so proud of yourself. Pardon the shit outta me for getting excited about new players coming to my team. Sorry for being a fan. Cockknocker. The NFL Draft rules. You can cheer for your picks, ridicule shitty picks (“With the #3 pick, the Cleveland Browns select Brady Quinn!”), and, most importantly, get drunk. Here’s how I anticipate my weekend playing out.
7:00AM – Awake. Get up to dress and feed The Girl. Let the Mrs. sleep an extra hour or two.
9:00AM – Wake up the Mrs. Have this conversation: -“You know what today is?” -“What?” -(I say nothing) -“Oh fuck, not that draft thing again.”
11:00AM – Find out the Raiders have signed JaMarcus Russell and paid him a $30 million signing bonus. They’ll still take the full 15 minutes anyway, in hopes that ESPN will talk about the Raiders during that time span. They will not.
12:00PM – The Draft starts. Time for dynamic shots of the draftees! There’s Joe Thomas in a three-point stance! There’s JaMarcus Russell doing his throwing motion without the ball! There’s Gaines Adams giving the camera a murderous stare and saying, “Gaines Adams. Clemson. Bitch.”! That’s called a montage! Oooh, it takes a montage!!!!
12:05PM – Berman: “Annnnnnnnddddd welcome! To the 2007 National Football League Annual Selection Meeting, also known as… THE NFL DRAFT!” Berman laughs at his own “joke”. Everyone laughs with him. Start drinking immediately.
12:10PM – Berman introduces the rest of crew with an overlong, rehearsed spiel for each. Each crew member will laugh at said spiel. Except Kiper. Kiper will smirk and think to himself, “Hey look! Another joke about my hair! Never heard that one! Fat fuck.”
12:10PM – Time for reports straight from the outside war rooms! There’s Ed Werder in Dallas! There’s SalPal in Philly! There’s Michele Tafoya… somewhere! Cut to Suzy Kolber presiding over a “roundtable” of current NFL player/draftniks! Do I see Corey Chavous and Jon Jansen? You bet!
12:14PM – Before the Raiders pick, all of the draft information graphics will be introduced onto my TV screen. The graphics will occupy 85% of the screen. The telecast will cut to commercial just before any important NEW information is displayed. Fuck.
12:15PM – The Raiders take Russell. The ESPN crew talks about the Cowboys for 12 minutes.
12:28PM – Stuart Scott interviews Russell while simultaneously massaging his balls. Russell is baffled by the challenge of trying to make eye contact with Scott. Scott gets in his trademark “athlete fist bump”, giving him the approval from athletes that he so desperately craves.
12:29PM – The crew discusses trade possibilities at the 2 spot that will not come to fruition.
12:30PM – The Lions are ready to pick! Will it be Calvin Johnson? Will it be Brady Quinn? It doesn’t matter, because that fuckface Berman has already ruined the surprise by announcing that Joe Thomas is the pick! Hey Chris, fuck you seven times over!
12:35PM – Bagel
12:45PM – The Browns take Quinn. America has a good laugh. ESPN does a 10-minute, in-depth profile of how sweet a guy Quinn is. They interview his mom, his sister, AJ Hawk, a dying 8-year-old ND fan with an oxygen tube, his Dad, and Charlie Weis. Childhood pictures will play a prominent role. By the end of the telecast, he’ll be an honorary Manning brother.
12:59PM – The Bucs are ready to pick…
1:00PM – Psych! The Bucs trade the pick to the Skins for the Skins’ entire 2008 and 2009 drafts. On Jimmy Johnson’s trade chart, this actually is an “equal” trade. In reality, it is fucking suicide. The Skins get a fresh 15 minutes on the clock. Fuck me.
1:27PM – Waiting for the Vikings to pick…
1:59PM – Still waiting…
2:06PM – Jesus fucking Christ.
2:37PM – The Vikings select Jamaal Anderson. The ESPN crew will not discuss this until five more picks are made and I am on the shitter.
3:12PM – Somehow, seven picks are made within the span of half an hour. I have no clue how. Eat some hummus.
3:41PM – Is it time for a stilted video conference with Jon Gruden? Fuck yeah!
4:23PM – The Giants take Ted Ginn. Eli Manning gets now gets an even speedier receiver to overthrow.
4:24PM – Kiper doesn’t like the pick. “I don’t like the pick, Boom. You got a young, developing quarterback. But he’s already got that big target in Burress. What about your defense? What about replacing Tiki Barber? Let me give you a detailed outline of how the next thirty years will play out for the Giants because of this slapdick pick.”
5:00PM – Masturbate.
5:01PM - Make 22 oz. rum and coke with lime. I put a shitload of lime in there. It’s tremendous. Add some Lay’s potato chips in there and it’s like I’ve masturbated all over again.
5:02PM – Mrs Drew: “Okay, enough. Turn it off.” I turn it off.
6:00PM – Cuba Libre numero dos.
7:30PM – Baby asleep. Turn that shit right back on. Scour to see who the Vikes took in Round 2. ESPN will deliberately withhold the information from me. ESPNews is even worse, and I think Cindy Brunson is dying from severe anorexia. You can see the bitch’s sternum, people. And I don’t even have hi-def.
7:31PM – Flip to the Simpsons. It’s an episode from somewhere beyond season 6. That will not do. Flip back.
8:00PM – Jaws is talking in “I’m on TV!” voice.
8:01PM – Dinner. Who likes pad thai? I do! I do!
8:57PM – Flip back to the Draft. Trey Wingo is talking about shit with Sean Salisbury and Mark Schlereth. Salisbury keeps looking down at his own cock. And that signals an end to my day.
11:00AM – Day 2 is here. Suzy Kolber is your new host! Berman is too busy playing golf with Eddie DeBartolo and eating children.
11:23AM – Time to ignore all the current selections in order to A) Talk about the Cowboys, B) Replay scenes from the previous day, C) Talk to Jerry Jones, D) Replay the draftee montage!
12:07PM – In between talking about the Cowboys, the crew stops to quickly rattle off the past seven draft picks, then goes right back to talking about the Cowboys. They’ll do this repeatedly for the rest of the day. Time for eggs.
6:00PM – And the Draft is over. Was it exhausting? Frustrating? Annoying? Oh yeah. Would I watch it if it were on every week? Fuck and yes. Put that in your pipe and smoke it, Wilbon.
Welcome to the latest installment of KSK’s newest series, Better Know a Draft Pick. We’ll lead up to April’s draft by giving you all the pertinent info you’ll need on the league’s newest disappointments-to-be.
Name: Adam Gaines Gaines Adams
Height: Tall Body Type: Longer than the SG’s diary Speed: Good enough
Urine Sample: Shwaggy Stool Sample: Soft and lacking bulk
Who’s Interested: The camera guy in the green room
Who Will Take Him: The Vikings. He’s the one piece that could make all the difference between a two-win season and a three-win season.
Honors: People have been riding his jock for quite some time. His CSTV bio tells us that Gaines was named “…first-team preseason All-American according to Playboy, Lindy’s, and Phil Steele.” Now this is just a guess but I’d say that’s a nudie magazine, a strip club, and an aging porn star. Not too shabby.
Story ESPN Will Shove Down Your Throat: He admitted to smoking marijuana so now we get to hear all of their fucking analysts talk about weed more than yours truly. Fuck steroids, binge drinking, and unprotected sex with skanky co-eds–these Kottonmouth Kings are a bunch of midnight tokers! (multi-generational musical fun!)
Ambitions: Doin’ coke, drinkin’ beers. Drinkin’ beers, beers beers. Rollin’ fatties, smokin’ blunts. Who smokes the blunts? We smoke the blunts. Fav Hangout: In between a convenience store and a video store
Fav Food: Whatever’s special Biggest Fear: Evil Bong
Immediate Impact: Automaic insertion into the league’s substance abuse program will not stop him from knocking the shit out of quarterbacks in his rookie year (Goodell: HGH isn’t a substance if I can’t see it!).
The draft is finally here this week. Hey, nice job making us wait two months longer than is necessary, NFL! I really wanted to wait week after agonizing week until the draft finally showed up on what will inevitably be the nicest day of spring. Asses. This week, we’ll be asking notable celebrities from the world of TV, politics, and more to give us their thoughts on this year’s selection meeting. First up: “Iron Chef”’s Chairman Kaga.
Hmm… Jamarcus Russell…
If my memory serves, the Creole half-breeds of Louisiana have a saying for Jamarcus Russell: “Savor only the arm.” Russell is known for being fat and flabby, but if you eat just the upper arm and shoulder, trimming the fat and discarding the rest, you will find a tender, almost venison-like meat, that surprises the mouth with its rich, smoky flavor. Slice it thin, and a pristine carpaccio awaits to delight and tantalize you! So I say, “savor only the arm”!
(Bites into yellow bell pepper, smiles creepily)
Hmm… Joe Thomas…
If my memory serves, morbidly obese Wisconsinites have a saying for Joe Thomas: “Look below the folds”. Below the folds of Thomas’ upper body lies a sweet nugget of penis tenderloin, plus the testicles, prized by the nutmongers of Northern Japan, who serve it in a clear bento broth with stewed bok choy. If you like offal, you’ll love these balls. But only in you… “look below the folds!”
(Grabs cape, turns dramatically)
Hmm… Gaines Adams…
If my memory serves, people of South Carolina have a saying about Gaines Adams (people of South Carolina love sayings, because they cannot read), which is… “the blacker the berry, the sweeter the juice”. Indeed, the blood of Adams is highly prized by South Carolinians as both a delicacy and a healing elixir that cures ailments ranging from dementia to toenail fungus. Indeed, “the blacker the berry, the sweeter the juice”! Ha ha ha ha!!!!!
(Summons a large table that rises up from the floor, takes off the table covering, revealing a naked Marshawn Lynch)
Ahh… Marshawn Lynch…
If my memory serves, the organic farmers of Northern California have a saying for Marshawn Lynch, which is, “Go by the dreads”. Dreadlocks are a signal of moister flesh, which offers you passage to the elusive fifth “umami” flavor. Lynch is often served spread over toast points with a spicy Pinot Noir. It’s a transcendant experience, but only if you “go by the dreads”!
Leading up to the draft, we’ll be giving you exclusive inside access to the war rooms of various teams across the league. Today: the Pittsburgh Steelers.
[The Steelers new head coach Mike Tomlin retires to bed after a wearying day of draft board analysis and administering Kendall Simmons' Flintstones chewable insulin.]
Mike Tomlin: If I get one more letter written on a Primanti Brothers napkin demanding we draft Paul Posluszny, I’m going to exude quiet confidence in a slightly less cool fashion. Like I imagine Delroy Lindo might if he got gyped on ketchup packets at a Chick-Fil-A.
Maybe there’s a possible compromise with Levi Brown. That way, we can drop Max Starks off the Clemente Bridge, and the braying yinzers get their Penn State prospect.
[Tomlin yawns, shuts eyes]
…
…
[Jarring sound of chains rattling]
Tomlin: Ahhh! Fuck! That better not be you again, Colbert. I swear to God, I’ll tell the Rooneys to send you back to Detroit.
Apparition: No, it ain’t the GM, man.
Tomlin: Oh shit! A ghost! A ghost of a nondescript black man! You’re scary because you have higher blood pressure than regular ghosts!
Apparition: I can’t believe you don’t recognize me.
Tomlin: Beasley Reese?
Apparition: Fuck no, I’m not Beasley Reese. You never heard of Jefferson Street Joe Gilliam. I used to be the quarterback of the team you’re now coaching, way back in the ’70s.
Tomlin: Oh, right. The Jeffersons were huge in the ’70s. That Wheezy was a trip.
Gilliam: Okay. You clearly have no idea who I fuck I am. But you would if the Steelers had kept me as the starting QB like they should have. The Steel Curtain won four rings with a mediocre hick who only had two more career TDs than picks. Who knows how many more they could have gotten with me? That could be my bloated ass during movie scenes in a whirlpool with Kathy Bates.
Tomlin: Okay, maybe you were better than Bradshaw. What does that have to do with me?
Gilliam: You gotta draft a black quarterback. Trade up and get Russell.
Tomlin: But the Steelers already had a black starting QB for five seasons. I mean, shouldn’t I just promote Charlie Batch to first string? It’s not like Cowher shouldn’t have done it at least five different times last year. He did play better than Roethlisberger.
Gilliam: That light-skinned motherfucker? Your white QB is more mobile than he is. And don’t try that Kordell Stewart shit on me. That was like Hattie McDaniel winning an Oscar for Gone With the Wind. She only had to play a servant. I’m pretty sure Kordell was servicing Cowher thrice daily. I’ve been waiting for decades for this team to get a black head coach so the Steelers could get a respectable black QB under center. I had to trade my Super Bowl rings to get crack rocks, man. But because I wasn’t starter, I only got two rings. Think of all the rocks I lost out on.
Tomlin: But, see, here’s thing and I’ve given this some thought: a successful black QB would be nice but it’s no longer a novel thing in the league. No, I’m implementing the blackest, gay-bashingest defense ever seen in the NFL, Tony Dungy’s Tampa 2. For too long, this team and its cavalcade of crusty white defensive coordinators have embraced the wan, soulless 3-4 scheme. Nothing would more subvert the anglocentric status quo than if I took a defensive end like Adam Carriker in the draft, thus changing the beloved defensive set to a 4-3 and imposing a system forged from superior black intellect.
Gilliam: Dungy? I remember hearing about that cat on the Steelers a few years after I left. Smart, smart guy and just about the most harrowing menace to homosexuals I’ve seen outside of a Joe Gibbs team. I like your thinking, Brother Tomlin.
Tomlin: BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
Gilliam: AHAHAHAHAHAHA
[Gilliam's ghost slowly dissipates]
Tomlin: Fuck that shit. I’m taking a cornerback. Ike Taylor can eat a decade-rotted dick with extra cajun cocksauce.
All over the NFL, teams are auditioning for new cheerleader squads, a tradition as American as eating disorders and breast implants. In few places is this done as well in Philadelphia, where the Eagles cheerleaders (A KSK favorite) must be selected from the hottest 0.65% of the American female population. Anything less and the girls would get batteries thrown at them.
Here are some photos from the Eagles cheerleaders tryouts, which is apparently some sort of beauty pageant. As well it should be.
Fitness Award-winner Jamie demonstrates the proper technique for walking.
Jessica Simpson? Nope, that’s Kjersti. She thinks John Mayer is a total pussy.
Raise your hand if Captain Caveman wants to lick your stomach.
Jennifer won the Overall Beauty Award. With those split ends? Pffft.
So there you go. That’s one more week closer to death, one less week until the 2007 NFL season starts. Thanks to our friends at the Professional Cheerleader Blog for the photos.
You know, we have rules in our mock draft for a reason. They give us definitive parameters that keep us from arguing needlessly, and it tends to keep things from getting too fantastic.
And yet every fuckin’ week, the commenters have a race to ignore the rules that we carefully set down. Several weeks after the “Actions Scenes We Want to Be a Part of” Draft (note the emphasis), I heard from a reader who just COULDN’T BELIEVE no one picked the 12-minute single-cut scene from the end of Children of Men. Oh, really? Clive Owen spends the entire scene running for his fucking life ’cause he doesn’t have a gun. What part of that do you want to be a part of? “Well, yeah, but it was a cool scene.” For fuck’s sake, LOOK AT THE RULES.
These are the parameters for this week (pretty loose, because by this point we’re self-policing):
“These are animals for our own personal zoo. You do not need to upkeep these animals. A personal zookeeper and corresponding ecosystem will be provided. Must be current species, so no megalodons or T-Rexes. As always, serpentine draft order.”
1. flubby: Elephant
I imagine once you own an elephant, it sort of consumes your public persona. Instead of being referred to as “that one guy who and has a kickass job and is hung like a clydesdale plus he has the waaay hot wife and the best looking kid in town” as I am now, I would be simply known to all as “that guy with the elephant.” Still, it would be worth it, especially if it would use its trunk to help me wash my trunk. I think I saw that once on either “National Geographic” or “The Flintstones.”
Not only is it extremely rare (thus leading to huge profits for my personal zoo), but I choose to believe that this hybrid combines all the deadliest aspects of both species. Gifted swimmer. Powerful digger. Godless. Killing. Machine.
(I also did this for the good of the draft. By picking the hybrid, I’ve trumped anyone’s ability to claim either the polar bear or grizzly bear, thus preventing what could have been a dispute about whether all bears should be off the board after one bear is selected.)
Drew: It needs a catchier name. Polar Bizz-ear!
flub: (from Wiki) “the offspring of a male Polar bear and a female Grizzly would be a “Pizzly bear,” while the offspring of a male Grizzly and a female Polar bear would be a “Grolar bear.”"
Drew: Fo shizzle my grizzle!
3. Monday Morning Punter: Tyrannosaurus Rex
The baddest animal in all the land, at least until that meteor came. I did not see a moratorium on extinct animals.
MMP was then sent to the Asshole Box for five minutes.
3. MMP, take 2: Hedgehog
The hedgehog is a dynamite little animal. So much so that they’re illegal in many states and can’t be taken on planes. There have been video games named after them. The infield fly rule was created by a hedgehog, and two hedgehogs currently sit on the US Supreme Court. Some of these are even true.
He has plans to name it “Renaldo Balkman.”
4. Big Daddy Drew: Great White Shark
If I own a great white shark, that means I can watch it eat shit all day long. I’d do massive bong hits all morning, then just park my ass in front of the aquarium and watch him go to town. It would be like Shark Week, only just for me. And if someone were to fall into my tank “by accident”, well there wouldn’t be much evidence left over.
5. Christmas Ape: Giant Panda
Women adore them. Like China, I can rent the stupid thing to a zoo for millions of dollars and take it back on a whim. Also, despite cuteness, giant pandas are sufficiently adept at people killing. I may get tired of the sexual harassment lectures, however.
6. Unsilent Majority: Gorilla Have you seen a fucking gorilla? Those are some badass motherfuckers and they’re smarter than the average NFL GM. They are the greatest animal in existence.
7. UM: Chimpanzee
If movies have taught us anything it’s that chimps are the world’s funniest and most useful animal. They can operate flight simulators but they’re also cool just chillin out, smoking pot, and joyriding.
8. Xmas Ape: White Tiger
All the benefits of a regular tiger but the cachet of rarity. Forget zip code or membership to exclusive clubs, the real ticket to the elite is white tiger ownership. KSK spokescat Jean Grey probably needs a friend anyway, even if it’s one that could eat her in one bite.
9. Drew: Giant Crocodile
Crikey! Isn’t she a beauuuuty?! It nearly bit off me chuzzwuzzers! Let’s go drink and shandy and bask in the glow of this MAGNIFICENT creature. Oh, and I’d definitely store my croc in the galley of my yacht to attack unsuspecting black partners, ala Sonny Crockett.
10. MMP: Lion
I didn’t see anyone pick a Lion. I’m taking the Lion. It’s tough to be King of the Jungle and still have great hair.
11. CC: Prairie Dog Colony
Is it a badass pick? Not at all. But the prairie dogs never have an off day. They’re always coming out of their holes, standing on hind legs, squeaking at each other, chasing each other around… I’ll say it: the prairie dogs are cute. And ladies love cute animals. Cute animals at my private zoo are gonna get me laid.
Naturally, Drew objected to my pick, contending that I should only get one prairie dog, because married people hate it when single people get laid. The Draft Committee discussed the complaint, and ruled in favor of me getting the colony. Bada bing.
flub: “Also, Dude, colony is not the preferred nomenclature. Prairie dog town, please.”
12. flub: Giraffe
I might name it Allison Janney, but probably not. Elephant and giraffe with my first two picks? My menagerie owns.
13. flub: Thylacine
Whether or not thylacines still exist in Tasmania is the subject of some debate. The last one in captivity died nearly 100 years ago. But since we are allowing “theoretical” animals like the pizzly in, I want this one. I mean just look at it. Bad ass. Who’s sneaking in my back yard? No one, that’s who.
Pizzly bear theoretical? My ass. Did he not see the Wikipedia page? Still, a good pick. I don’t think we’ve seen an animal unhinge its jaw like that since Linda Lovelace.
14. CC: Snow Leopard.
Every time I go to the zoo, the lions and tigers are just sitting around being lazy fucks. Not the snow leopard. It just stalks around, pissed off at the world that it’s in a confined area. It’s ready to kick some ass. Which is great, because I’ve got extra prairie dogs.
Also, it looks kinda cute = me getting laid. Yes! UM: nice pick whitey!
15. MMP: Penguins
They have their own movies. They drink coke. They’re well-dressed. And they have 2 Stanley Cups.
16. Drew: Hippos
A hog and a frog Cavort in the bog But not the hippopotamus
And you know why? Because the hippo was too busy laying in wait in the river, hoping to fucking swallow them both whole. Hippos: cute AND deadly. And BIG!
17. Xmas Ape: Bald Eagle
Ufford’s patriotic bona fides are already well in place, but, as a journalist, I’m branded a traitor and a commie on a daily basis. Now, should the allegation arise, all I need to do is produce Christmas Eagle (now THAT’S American) to dispel any such notions. Then have it peck the bastard’s eyes out.
18. UM: Australian Sea Lion
That’s one damn cute animal. They’re adept in the water and equally comfortable poolside, but they might best be served as wingmen at the bar.from Wiki: The males fight other males from very young to establish their individual positions in the male hierarchy and during the breeding season, dominant males will guard females for the right to breed with her when she comes into oestrus.
God damn right.
Where did we fuck up? Tell us we should have taken Children of Men in the comments.
From the desk of Roger Goodell, Commmissioner National Football Leagye To: Brian Urlacher Re: Courtesy reminder on official NFL player apparel policy
Do you know what ‘Official Sports Drink of the NFL’ means, Brian? It means if you show up at Media Day wearing a faggy hat pimping some bullshit fortified water, I am going to fine your ass six-figures. Capiche, dickhead?
I am through playing around you bastards. David Stern thinks he is some kind of a hardass??? I’ll show him a what a hardass really is. He wants to suspend a referee for the playoffs??? I’ll push a referee down a fucking elevator shaft if they so much as look at me sideways. No more vitaminwater hats, Brian. And if you cross me one more time, I swear on all that is holy, I will make your life a living hell, do you understand me you miserable prick? With me, you do not fuck.
But to make it up to you I want to introduce you to some newly approved official NFL apparel, just for you. Enjoy, cockmunch.
We’re taking a break from the “kill kill kill” tag this week. As a palate cleanser, I’m going in the opposite direction and providing you with one of the most beautiful sights in all of nature: Two horses screwing. The male horse’s name? Lexington Steele. (NOTE: This video is NSFW, and in fact it is probably worse for your boss to catch you watching this than watching actual porn.)
What I like about gonzo animal sex videos is that there are no games. The male animal jumps on top of the female he likes. If she ain’t feeling it, she just runs away. I wish human sexual courtship were more like this. It would save us countless $100 dinner tabs and endless cases of blueballs. I even started a movement to do just this sort of thing in college, usually around 3:00 AM on a Saturday night. No one ever got on board. Tightassses. ‘Tis a pity. I think I was really onto something.
