An unfriendly reminder: the weekly Monday Night Football live blog/chat is tonight at 8:30, assholes. We’re going to try to make it a little less frenetic than in past weeks. (Translation: quality over quantity in the number of comments.) Featuring Captain Caveman, Monday Morning Punter, flubby, a few trusted commenters, and special guest Orson Swindle/Spencer Hall. It’s just barely better than watching the game alone.
I’m not one of those reactionary Redskins fans, or one to go over the top in my reaction to a big win, but I think it’s about time we gas up the bandwagon and plan the trip to Tampa Bay. Continue after the jump for a clinical and reserved analysis of what we learned in yesterday’s win of the millennium at Dallas Stadium.
Sure I’m a little miffed about the whole firing thing, even a little baffled. It’s not every team that can carry a lead over the Bills at halftime. Wait, the Raiders did it last week too? Well, I imploded more spectacularly than they did! And I didn’t even need a horrible imperious owner to do it.
Fine. Whatever. Let me go. I’ll catch on somewhere else. 10 gets you 20 the Lions will have a place for me in their new power structure next season. Count on it. Just tell me you didn’t…you did, didn’t you?
Haslett? You replaced me with Jim Pre-Cum-Suffused Haslett, that dithering, aquiline-nosed motherfucker? That’s like replacing a downed traffic light with a disco ball. A flat tire with a circus seal. A burned out light bulb with a burned out defensive coordinator. Tell me it’s cronyism.
I mean, in a way it’s kind of beautiful. Replacing me with the coordinator of the defense that’s allowed the most points in the league. That’s positively Linehanian. I guess my work here is done.
Matt Bryant had a heartfelt and disquieting moment in honoring the son he buried a day before suiting up for the Bucs. Anquan Boldin and Clifford Russell had harrowing moments of a different sort. Brett Favre won the Ronnie Brown Award for the player who waved his genitalia at you from your fantasy bench. Meanwhile, between Philly/Chicago and Green Bay/Tampa, there were enough killer turnovers than to do His Gunslingness proud. Other gameday observations and marginalia after the jump.
Presenting FOX’s afternoon coverage:
The red area is Cowboys-Redskins.
Lucky you, St. Louis. Your only choice is to watch the Rams. Might be a good day to head over to the Bowling Hall of Fame.
/prays
/prepares to throw into coverage
/fumbles
There’s a slew of fair-to-middling-to-piddling games filling the early slate, highlighted by the epic showdown of winless Ohio teams. Brady Quinn hopes to beard the Bengals in its den, hopefully with his beard in attendance. Then there’s the ever-tantalizing dual of journeymen quarterbacks trying to out-game manage one another between Tennessee and Minny.
No matter how inconsequential the game – even Carolina and Atlanta (wait, is that potentially for first place in a division?) – nothing could match the capacity to bore that Friday’s debate had. Quit the peevishness and start being outright insulting already! Lest we dispatch blind pee wee offensive lineman to chop block the air around your knees.
Tonight’s highly antiparticipated debate between precendental candied date Bark Obama and John McCain should be a real BARNBANGER! Now, McCain’s got a reparation for being a map trick in Washington. He beats off to the march of his own drummer!
But that map trick spirit can get him in trouble! When he tried to put off that debate earlier this week, he got absolutely PUMPERNICKELED for it! LAND BASTED! He may be an expert on natural security, but voters still have doubts about his ecological phyllo Sophie! And you what they say. “It’s the ecology, stupid!” He needs to be able to show he can command a deer issues like that! We’ll see if modern hater Jim Lair will screw the pooch to him!
As for Bark Obama, he sure was hard as a cucumber this week! But a lot of voters think he’s a bit a roof. AND VOTERS DON’T LIKE IT WHEN YOU’RE A ROOF! He needs to show voters he can reach them at a grass boots level! And not just get into bush gashing!
Now, I don’t want this to turn into some kind of political polenta. I’m not here to take sides. My job is to anal lice. And, in my anal lice, if Bark wants to secede, HE’S GOTTA MASTURBATE THE BALL DOWN THE FEEL!
I heard that Obama’s got a good ground game. Well, he better put his honey where his mountain is. He has to be aggregated. He can’t be a shrinking pirate. Because if voters think he’s weak, HE WILL GET HIS CLOCK CREAMED!
So tune in tonight! Will we have a “Senser, you’re no Jack Manatee” type of moment? We’ll see if this Bark has bite!
I took this picture of Mariel at a charity event three years ago. She loved cheerleading. And I loved her.
We met in college at a vending machine. She asked if she could borrow a dollar from me, and I jokingly replied that I needed collateral. She wrote her number in my algebra book, and told me to call her sometime. We went out that weekend.
What I didn’t know was that Mariel was in the budding stages of a horrible meth addiction. At first I tried to ignore it, I really thought she was just a care-free girl. The night before graduation, she was strung out on meth, and I wasn’t sure what to do, so my best friend and I tag-teamed her under the goalpost in the football stadium. The south one, I think. It might be why she went out for the Redskins’ squad that fall.
But then her addiction got worse. Pretty soon, everything in her life revolved around getting her Next Fix. All she wanted to was get high. I went over one night to see her, and to get my dick sucked, when I found her laying naked in the driveway, face-down, eating through her own wrist. She had just been kicked off the cheerleading team, she said. Blood dripped from her mouth. I called 911 from my cell phone, and then I drove off.
And that was three years ago, and not a day goes by when I don’t wonder what actually happened to her. I feel like I should have done more, like I shouldn’t have abandoned her. I hope she managed to straighten her life out. Mariel, if you’re still out there, baby, I just want you to know, you still owe me a dollar you fucking bitch.
