When I look at tonight’s eric battalion between the Giants and Redskins, I want to pay close introspection to the running backs. I think the running backs could be the divisive imminent of tonight’s game. You look at the Giants. They have Brandon Jacobs. They have Ahmad Bradshaw. One’s got power. The other one’s got speed and effusiveness. Together, those two make a heckuva pontoon in the backfeel. Bradshaw is so fast! He don’t drink no decapitated coffee in the morning! You can’t stop him, you can only hope to contemplate him!

You look at the Giants, you talk about a team that really knows how to masturbate that ball down the feel. No doubt. They’ve got it down to a teepee. They ejaculate great conference in their running game. They want to wear you down and drain your Stamfordia, Connecticut. They want to dish out the furnishment here.

Now, on the fliphand, you have the Redskins’ backfeel. You look at Clinton Portis and Ladell Betts. That’s a very portent combine. You get those two going, and your defense will get FIASCOED! Just flat out trampolined. MASSACRATED! And that would be a catastory for any defensive cooperator. It’s very ironic.

But on the other fliphand, you also have to look at the defenses. To beat these backs, you have to be VERY intimating. You have to put up a formittenable front four! Otherwise, they will masturbate the ball up and down the feel continentally. And will flabberpack anyone. When I look at these teams, I see a real drudge match. It’s like the irrefutable four versus the immodium project! GOOD VERSUS EVIL! TOTAL ARMANDASSANTE!

If I’m the defensive cooperator of either team, I say to my men, “Guys, we have to be physicalitated. We have to be resentless. We can do it. We have the interestinal latitude and the aptitude, the MAXIPAD, to get this done. We’re gonna be aggressivated. Belitterent. We will deride and constipate. We’re gonna proliferate that o-line and leave them decemberated. If we just pollinate with our renumeration, we can gravitize the whole interstitial Delorean of the castrating municipalation. TIME FOR US TO ELATE OUR GAME!”

That’s what I’d tell them.