You probably saw Drew’s eloquent remarks on Deadspin yesterday regarding Rick Reilly’s uninspired commentary about the sports blogosphere, followed by Drew’s subsequent deconstruction of the viewpoint of that “privileged journalist.” Despite being a bit light on homoerotica, Drew’s piece was, as usual, very good.

Too good, really.

Too often we bloggers look at the criticisms of the mainstream press as opportunities, as chances to prove that we are somehow deserving of our audiences, of being in the conversation. Often, this results in an overextension of prose and an overuse of reason. I SHALL SMITE YOU WITH COHERENT, THOUGHTFUL ARGUMENTS! And so we’re left with a well-bundled acknowledgment of their bitching and moaning that those types don’t really deserve.

Drew may as well have been reading poetry to a pig yesterday. Reilly is a third-tier fuckhead that’s not worthy of a rational counter-argument. You know what he’s worthy of? Getting handcuffed to a bike rack and shit on. Literally speaking, he deserves a response in kind. And so, I present a little something I’d like to call Rick Reilly Gargles Cocksnot.

Enjoy:

Rick Reilly thinks the Concorde is ruining the legacy of trans-Atlantic travel.

Rick Reilly thought Monty Python and the Holy Grail was “just okay.”

Rick Reilly speaks fluent Spanish, but finds it beneath him.

Despite having great access for the Masters, the excutive council at Augusta National insist on denying him entrance to any of the washrooms on the grounds, leaving him only a shallow latrine near the second fairway.

The council has also forbidden women from using this latrine. Mr. Reilly thinks this is bogus, but enjoys the amenities of the club too much to raise any sort of fuss.

Rick Reilly fucked Christine Penner. And loved it.

Rick Reilly is still unsure how those nets are keeping the moles out of Africa.

Rick Reilly thinks that, despite Tiger Woods’ Thai heritage, Phil Mickelson is tangier.

Rick Reilly’s nose is 0.017 inches (0.04318 cm) longer than his penis, so we’ve heard.

Rick Reilly wasn’t going to test Sammy Sosa’s pee for steroids. He was just parched.

Rick Reilly owns two three-year-old chocolate Labrador Retrievers named “Blackie” and “Is Killing College Athletics.”

Rick Reilly once caddied for Michelle Wie without uttering “Me love you long time,” but later commented privately to friends about how well she added up her scorecard.

Rick Reilly credits his “humerous” style to former president Ulysses S. Grant.

Rick Reilly keeps 2 ounces of cocaine in his ass at all times, just in case Lawrence Taylor drops by.

And it’s not even in a bag. Gross!