[Phone rings]
LEITCH: This is Will.
CRIS CARTER: What the fuck is up with these cats, man?
LEITCH: Wha…what are you talking about?
CRIS CARTER: There are these two cats…well hold on…maybe, maybe it’s one cat. I don’t know. But the words on the picture say Time Travel Cat Almost Creases Paradox? What the fuck is a paradox, man?
LEITCH: That’s not my site, Cris. I didn’t have anything to do with that site.
CRIS CARTER: You think this shit’s funny? This ain’t funny.
LEITCH: Cris, I’m not laughing at all.
CRIS CARTER: And how did you get that cat to travel back in time? Motherfucker, if you’re sending cats back in time, bitch, you better TELL ME.
LEITCH: Cris, I write for one blog. It’s not about cats. I have no insight into time travel.
CRIS CARTER: And then I saw you and your friends running through a forest and you used your magic powers to bomb somebody’s funeral? Why the fuck would you do that, man?
LEITCH: What the fuck are you talking about?
CRIS CARTER: You think that shit’s funny? That ain’t funny.
LEITCH: Cris, I write for one blog. It’s not about cats. I have no insight into the dark arts.
CRIS CARTER: And like the last two message board posts I couldn’t even read. And what’s up with that Scatman song? That song ain’t worth a shit, you know what I’m sayin’!
LEITCH: Cris, I gotta go.
CRIS CARTER: Don’t you hang up on me, motherfucker! I wanna know about this girl that’s crying about Britney Spears!
LEITCH: That’s not a girl. Goodbye.
CRIS CARTER: Motherfuck–
>click.<
LEITCH: Wow, what an asshole.
(Oh, if you haven’t seen this or this, or heard about this, you probably didn’t get this, and need to spend more time online and less time hanging out with those damn friends of yours. -PUNTE)
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Motherfucker, why ain’t you tell me Chuck Norris’ tears cured cancer?
There’s never any reason to fear Cris Carter. All he does is catch TD’s.
So my company blocked any websites with “blog” in the url, meaning I have no idea what the fuck any of those links lead to.
Cris Carter is one of the few “celebrities” I have met before.
Rest assured that he is, in fact, an asshole.
Shun the non believer! Shun!
will needs to cut his fingernails
/deadspin commenter
Mothafucka, what’s up with that cracker ass homo doin an 80s music video whenever I try to find Tyra Banks givin a hot carl?
What a freaking thug. I’m no fan of the whole “us vs. them” media/blogger kerfluffle… I think it’s a bunch of bullshit and that people who like sports should fight about fun things like whether TO or LT’s career is going down the tubes faster and not idiot shit like which medium we choose to get our information from. That being said, I think it’s been pretty well attested to by females trying to break into the business for years that the “old boys’ club” among the older, more established main-stream sports journalists is a pretty impenetrable clique. The crippling insecurity revealed by the way these guys comport themselves is pretty fucking pathetic.
Ack! Dick joke! So a dick walks into a bar, and the dude says “Ow, my dick.”
They have funerals in World of Warcraft?
“Better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak up and remove all doubt.” As Carter went to Ohio State and thus cannot read, I am sure he is unfamiliar with this aphorism, apt though it may be.
@tech n9ne: +1 for the mouse mention, because my parents used to say that to me when I was little and it slayed me.
“Motherfucker, if you’re sending cats back in time, bitch, you better TELL ME.”
If I ever get to hear Samuel L. Jackson speak that line in a major motion picture, I will die happy on the spot.
I’m just happy that it wasn’t Sean Salisbury who yelled at Leitch, just to spare us from the cell phone image.
“Go for Leitch”
Leitch: Who dis?
That sounds more like the gangsta Will that we all know and like.
Cris: What’s with this soapy dick pill?
Will: Actually, that was me.
I was gonna say, the mouse in Will’s pocket takes extreme umbrage at not being acknowledged. Also, there’s some squeaking coming from Will’s balls that sounds like Iracane.
You have one new voicemail:
“MOTHAFUCKA HOW COME IT AINT PEANUT BUTTER JELLY TIME NO MO?!”
I think Leitch would kick his ass.
That conversation is fake. Leitch never once referred to himself with the pretentious “we.”