Gah! The owners opted out of the labor deal! Oh, FUCK! What are we gonna do? Seriously, WHAT THE FUCK ARE WE GONNA DO?! Yeah, I know this doesn’t affect the league for the next two years. BUT WHAT ABOUT THE YEAR AFTER THAT?! What if there’s no football in 2010? Oh, God. Oh, dear God. I can’t feel my arm! I think my system is shutting down!

You can’t just go and DO something like this, you NFL owner shitbags. I’ve already gone three and a half months with NO football this year. I’m ready to eat my young. Oh, if only I could hibernate like a bear, or like Brian Wilson, and wake up refreshed for the NFL season. Instead, I have to watch the FUCKING SPURS. WOE TO US ALL!!!!

Well, I’m not taking this laying down, you robber baron shitbags. I took it upon myself to sneak into league offices last night. That’s right! Frankie the security guard melts at the sight of a fresh box of Ding Dongs. And once I told the receptionist I was Dr. Rosenpenis, she let me right into the records room. EASY AS PIE, YOU COCKPUMPERS.

As a result, I have discovered the list of owner demands for the new labor deal. And I’m making it public, just to rob you of your precious, precious leverage. THIS IS WHAT YOU GET WHEN YOU FUCK AN NFL FAN IN THE ASS, GOODELL.

Dan Snyder: Mandatory Redskins title, corpse of father exhumed for public viewing and worship

Jerry Jones: Extra fat men to poke, league subsidy to begin own space program, additional skin grafts to repair Dr. Lipschitz’s handiwork

Jeffrey Lurie: Separate stadium jail for Reid children, so that Eagle fans are forced to find alternative meth source

The Citizens Of Green Bay: More elastic pants, stoplight installed outside of driveway to new donut shop

Zygi Wilf: Fully operational stadium in Los Angeles, admission from the people of Minnesota that Jews make them somewhat uneasy.

William Clay Ford: Nothing. Everything’s super!

The McCaskey Family: Purchase of vacant lots to commission additional acts of architectural rape upon Windy City landscape

Bill Bidwill: Written statement from players that they will turn off all lights before leaving team facility. What is he, the goddamn power company?!

The Mara Family: Extra home game every year at the expense of displaced flood refugees, permanent Giants Stadium position for Super Bowl clock manager

Malcolm Glazer: A second team, plus a good ol’ fashioned barn raisin’

Tom Benson: Player-funded, $200 billion Category 5 levees for greater New Orleans, so he can finally move the team without feeling a shred of guilt

Wayne Weaver: Fans

Jerry Richardson: Competent training staff, mandatory fulfillment of any Sports Illustrated preseason prediction

Arthur Blank: Pillow for Michael Vick, cup of hot soup for Michael Vick, some toast with jam for Michael Vick, electric blanket for Michael Vick. Are you okay, Michael?

The Frontiere Family: eharmony.com profile for Georgia, so she can finally land that eighth husband she was always looking for. Some necrophiliac’s gotta be feeling frisky

Denise York: Contraction of team, monthlong stay in Corsica with Janusz, her personal trainer. God, this football stuff is so STUPID!

Paul Allen: Written promise from players that they will find Justin Long and beat the ever-loving fuck out of him. God, he’s like the second coming of Jimmy Fallon.

Robert Kraft: Nanny cams, the continued league-wide cover-up of any wrongdoing, mandatory “Negro Tax” on all African-American Gillette Stadium visitors

Ralph Wilson: His reading glasses! For God’s sake, what did you with his reading glasses?! He left them right in the medicine cabinet, and now they’re gone! How’s he supposed to read this crazy thing?

Wayne Huizenga: Separate training table for players that Parcells won’t know about

Woody Johnson: Full refund for purchase of Jets, bottle of shampoo that delivers on No More Tears promise

Dan Rooney: Kids off lawn

Mike Brown: Contract clause stating that any player on injured reserve must work the concession stand

Randy Lerner: A copy of every college player’s mailing address, credit report and social security number

Steve Bisciotti: Kevlar vest, plus those little hard cookies you dip into your coffee. You know what he means? They usually come in odd flavors like anise seed. What do you call those things?

Jim Irsay: Mandatory attendance of performances featuring the jam band he started with Charles Dolan

Bob McNair: New expansion team to cover up the glaring failure of his own, preferably named the Utah Utahns.

Bud Adams: Daily rubdown from discreet Oriental 12-year-old

Pat Bowlen: Mandatory obedience training for wife’s Chihuahua. Christ, that little fucker just shits all over the fucking place

Alex Spanos: Mandatory de-douching symposium for all active quarterbacks

Clark Hunt: The CLARK Hunt trophy, god dammit. WHAT ARE YA GONNA DO ABOUT IT, OLD MAN?!

Al Davis: One quart of fresh baby’s blood per hour