A long interview with Cam over at Sportsline. It’s whoretastic!

(Giants weight room)

Justin Tuck: Hey Coach McGaughey, go easy on me today. That was a rough win we had yesterday.

McGaughey: Aw, poor Tuck. Yeah, I know how tiring it gets to have a free shot at Roethlisberger on every other play.

Justin Tuck: (laughs) No joke, man! No joke! I did more running yesterday than I did in all of training camp! What do we have to do today?

McGaughey: Circuit training, my friend.

Justin Tuck: Oh, you gotta be fucking kidding me. Circuit training? Today? I can barely fucking move, man. And you’re gonna have me running around from one damn station to the next? C’mon, man. Ease up on me. Gimme a chance to catch my breath.

McGaughey: Hey man, you know I would. Really. But circuit training today, of all days, wasn’t my idea.

Justin Tuck: Well then, whose idea was it?

(door flies open)

Sergeant Tom Coughlin: YOU FUCKING LITTLE PUKE! FUCKING TRYING TO TAKE A FUCKING DAY OFF WHEN IT’S ONLY GODDAMN OCTOBER, YOU FUCKING BAG OF QUEEFJUICE? I WILL FUCKING END YOU, YOU FUCK. I WILL FUCKING IMPREGNATE YOUR RECTUM WITH A GODDAMN CHAINSAW!

Justin Tuck: Coach, coach. It’s not like that. I wanna go out and play and prepare as hard as I can. But sometimes, you have to conserve your energy.

Sergeant Tom Coughlin: CONSERVE YOUR ENERGY? CONSERVE YOUR FUCKING ENERGY? YOU MAKE ME FUCKING SICK! YOU MAKE ME WANT TO VOMIT ON A STOLEN COCK! I’LL TELL YOU WHAT YOU’RE CONSERVING, YOU LITTLE FUCKING BALLGARGLER: ALL THAT ESTROGEN RUNNING THROUGH YOUR GODDAMN SYSTEM. YOU ARE NOT A FUCKING MAN! YOU’RE A WOMAN! WITH A PUSSY! FUCK!

Justin Tuck: Okay, okay. I’ll go through the circuit training. What’s the circuit?

Sergeant Tom Coughlin: FUCK YOU, SON. FUCK YOU UNTIL YOUR ASSHOLE LOOKS LIKE GROUND FUCKING BEEF! YOU WILL FUCKING SPRINT TO THE 1,000 FT. ROPE CLIMBING STATION, AND THEN FUCKING SPRINT TO THE BOULDER-JUGGLING STATION, AND THEN YOU WILL FUCKING SPRINT TO THE BEAR-WRESTLING STATION, THEN YOU FUCKING SPRINT TO THE GET-PUNCHED-IN-THE-FACE-WITH-A-MALLET STATION! AND IF YOU DON’T FINISH THE CIRCUIT IN UNDER 90 SECONDS, I WILL FUCKING MAKE YOU DO IT 4 MORE TIMES, ALL ON HOT COALS! THEN I’LL TEAR YOUR MOM’S TITS OFF WITH A RAKE!

Justin Tuck: 90 seconds? That’s not even close to possible.

Sergeant Tom Coughlin: SON, THAT IS WHY WE’RE FUCKING 6-1 AND NOT 7-0, YOU LITTLE CUM-BATHING TWATFONDLER! WE ARE THE FUCKING LAUGHINGSTOCK OF THIS LEAGUE RIGHT NOW! I AM FUCKING EMBARRASSED TO BE SEEN WITH YOU! I WILL PULL YOUR FORESKIN OVER YOUR FUCKING HEAD!

ARE YOU TELLING ME YOU’RE FUCKING HAPPY WITH SIX AND FUCKING ONE? I’M NOT! I WILL PULL YOUR EYES OUT WITH A GODDAMN IUD! I WILL PULL OUT YOUR TONGUE AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR PUSSYHOLE! IN FACT, WE’RE GONNA DO EXTRA TRAINING! YOU’RE GONNA DIG A POOL IN MY YARD, YOU FUCK! A FUCKING OLYMPIC SWIMMING POOL!

Justin Tuck: All right, already. I’ll do the training, sir. (mumbles) Asshole.

Sergeant Tom Coughlin WHAT WAS THAT?! WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST CALL ME?! YOU LITTLE TAINTLICKING COCKWORKER! GOT BETTER THINGS TO DO THAN WIN A FUCKING CHAMPIONSHIP? TOO BUSY HAVING BOAT ANCHORS PULLED OUT OF YOUR ASS DOWN IN THE VILLAGE? DIE! DIE! YOU AREN’T FIT FOR FUCKING COMBAT! YOU’RE ONLY FIT TO RAPE DOGS! AND GIVE THEM DOGHERPES! YOU DOGHERPES-GIVING DOGFUCKER!

Justin Tuck: I’m sorry, sir. I’ll get right on the training. No lie.

Sergeant Tom Coughlin: AND REMEMBER TO GET IT DONE IN 60 SECONDS, OR I WILL SHOWER YOU WITH MY ACID PISS!

Justin Tuck: You said 90 seconds before.

Sergeant Tom Coughlin: FUCKING CUNTRAG! 90 SECONDS MEANS 60 SECONDS, WHICH MEANS 10 SECONDS! WHY HAVEN’T YOU FINISHED THE CIRCUIT YET?! YOU FUCKING BEST UNFUCK YOURSELF TUCK, OR SO HELP ME GOD I WILL STRANGLE YOU TO DEATH WITH A BIG BLACK COCK! YOU HEAR ME, FUCKWAGON?! FUCK!

Justin Tuck: Yes, sir.

(Coughlin leaves)

McGaughey: Boy, he’s pretty upbeat for a Monday.

Justin Tuck: I was just gonna say that.

Ah, the trusty chestnut that is dubbing one piece of pop culture ephemera over another to point out their likeness in a humorous fashion. You know I love it. But what got Mike Singletary so worked up is not the listless play of bustastic former Terp Vernon Davis, but his angsty conversation with Bill Walsh from beyond the grave. Observe after the jump.

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Yep, Jim Zorn was in rare form after the Redskins win over the Lions yesterday afternoon, especially when he misunderstood an a question from Ryan O’Halloran of the Washington Times.

Take that shit back to your conservative bosses and ask them how it feels to suffer from the wrath of the Zorn! Continue after the jump for the rest of the untelevised exchange

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Before we get to making more fun of Mike Singletary, I must note that today is the official release date for the massive affront to literature pictured above. Yes folks, it’s BALLSDAY. I suggest you skip work, take the kid out of school, head down to the bookstore, and read all 280 pages of this book while destroying a Borders shitter. (“This book has been flagged!”)

I also suggest you spend the entire day hanging brain. This isn’t just a day for you, it’s a day for you AND your balls. So treat your balls. Give them a little extra jostle. Groom them. Let ‘em hang real low and give them the ol’ “taffy pull,” if you know what I mean. Tell your ladyfriend, “Hey lady, it’s BALLSDAY. Now let’s get teabaggin’!”

You know you and your balls have earned it. Because this Nobel-winning tome simply couldn’t have existed without your support. And, as a show of gratitude to KSK readers, I now present to you a special deleted section from the book that I was forced to take out at the behest of Little, Brown’s lawyers. Goddamn lawyers. Anyway, enjoy. Happy Ballsday, everyone.

The best way to pay child support is in all pennies, by Larry Bird.

We all make mistakes in life. I got married and had a kid while very young and always regretted having done so. But I’m someone who believes in learning from mistakes, and what I’ve learned is that the best way to pay child support is in all pennies.

Every month, when I had to pay the court-ordered $1,250 (hooray, no adjusting for inflation!) to my ex-wife, I had a little ritual. I would go to the bank and withdraw $1,249.99, all in pennies. I always left it one penny short, just to see if the ex actually counted. And believe me, the bitch always did. She was stubborn like that. Now, these pennies occupied a 6’ x 6’ palette that needed to be airlifted to the ex, at an additional cost to me, sometimes exceeding the cost of the child support itself!

But it was worth it to me. By paying your child support in all pennies, you’re not only making a statement to your ex-wife (“I hate you and wish you would go away.”), but that massive, 987-pound mass of pennies also serves a metaphor for the terrible weight she and her child are on your life.

When I left my ex, I did so with the intention of moving on completely. No need dwelling the past. I don’t want to be reminded of my OLD family when I’m hanging out with my newer, better one. And that’s what I think that freedom-hating judge failed to recognize. Look, it’s not the money that annoys me. Clearly, I can afford the payment. It’s the constant, monthly reminder that these people exist. You know what a burden that is? I can barely finish this ginger-glazed lobster prepared for me by my personal chef, it’s so dismaying. Even now that my first kid is over 18 and I don’t have to make the payments anymore, I’m so conditioned to make the payments that it pops up in my brain every month anyway. It’s like some insidious brainwashing program.

Isn’t that awful?

So be careful with the ladies. Make the wrong move and you’ll soon find yourself tethered to some woman you don’t even like. And not just for 18 years. But for LIFE. It’s no joke. Even you when pay in pennies.

Mike Singletary’s debut as Niners’ head coach left him a tad exasperated today. Had Singletary delivered this speech at half-time of an eighties sports movie he definitely would have been a winner.

[ longer version of the rant here ]

“Our receivers are so good, we have a field named after our playing field”?

Fuck you, Terry.

The Steelers begin their two-week odyssey against NFC East teams with one of their former receivers, first the one who was actually worth a big contract and then Antwaan Randle-El. Pittsburgh was already hurting enough with America’s Most Blunted receiver, Willie Parker, Marvel Smith and Bryant McFadden out, but Aaron Smith is gone too? And he’s not even hurt? What the bloodclot? What are these personal reasons that are keeping out our run-stopping defensive end? Screw his right to privacy, I must know!

Ack! It’s okay. The Steelers can still take this. No team playing Eli Manning is ever really out of it. You Giants will learn to fear Nate Washington and his epic case of dropsies!

So the Brits are treated to a bunch of players who are about to get suspended today on the pitch field. Diuretics can help conceal steroid use, but they also a must for a fan of golden showers. Maybe Will Smith just likes t let his golden love flow. Ever thought about that, gotcha media?

Elsewhere, we get to see the defensive play calling of Tubby in Dallas, which are likely to be the most chocolate eclair-filled schemes the league has seen. The Lions have never won a game, in their 74 years of existence in Washington, but their game against the Redskins today is at home, so they must totally have a shot! The lucky asshole Patriots and their weak schedule get the Rams without Steven Jackson this week and Herm Edwards gets to try to take one from his former team, just weeks before he gets fired from his current one!

Yeah yeah, my travel schedule fucked up my posting this week, and that of course includes Always Be Covering. Fortunately I’m ready to let loose with my simply awful picks just in time for some last minute wagering. Continue after the jump for a quick list of the week’s bets.

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