DAVID M. SHRIBMAN, YOU CAN SUCK MY HAIRY BALLS. “Your athletic cup is either half full or half empty. That’s my line, and infantile as it is, it’s better than most in this book.” I’ll be the judge of your one-liners, cuntrubber. I FIND YOUR REVIEW SIGNIFICANTLY LACKING IN ADEQUATE PRAISE!

Jesus, I threw the green bean casserole in the oven and it was fucking 21-3 Titans already. Could the Lions perhaps rehire Matt Millen so that they can again fire him? Daunte Culpepper played like shit and gave up a house pick, which tends to diminish his argument that the only reason he was out of the league early this year was because he was blackballed. John Amos would be a better quarterback right now.

Your 4PM game is Dallas-Seattle, so I really hope you have a Cowboy on your fantasy team. If not, may I suggest El Gordo Y La Flaca on Channel 14?

This game is only a quarter old and it already has to be one of the ugliest performances by a pro team I’ve ever seen. The Lions defense is selling out on every play, allowing Chris Johnson to go untouched on two touchdown runs. The Detroit offense had a delay of game penalty coming out of a timeout and they just booted a 10 yard punt. This is a team that thought they could benefit from the spotlight.

This game is so lopsided, we might even see Vince Young at some point.

It just isn’t Turkey Day without, once again, posting my favorite sports highlight of all time: the 1994 Plano East-John Tyler high school football game. Plano East trailed in this game 41-13 with just under three minutes to go. After that, THINGS DONE GOT WILDER THAN A GREASED CALF ROPIN’ CONTEST! YEEEEEEEEEEHAW I AM FUCKIN’ MAKIN’ A COMEBACK!

Happy Thanksgiving, everybody.

PICK HERE if you’re competing in the KSK Suicide Superpool and your pick was successful last week. Yeah, this pool is about as well-organized as FEMA, but look on the bright side–YOUR TAX DOLLARS ARE NOT AT WORK HERE. And there’s still $100 on the line for the winner. This may go all the way down to the wire. 

I need your pool name, your original group name, and your winner for this week. Except for your pick last week, every team is available to you. Yes, it’s bullshit, but it’s the only fair way to do it with the system we have here. Sorry that you got stuck in the BCS of suicide pools. But be grateful you’re still in the hunt.  Read the rest of this entry »

Welcome, one and all, to a special mid-week edition of Always Be Covering. Today we’ll take a close examination of the Thanksgiving day (and night) offerings while thinking about eating some oyster stuffing from between that cheerleader’s tits. It’s a wonder that people even bother asking me what holiday I enjoy most. What do you think I’m going to say, Christmas? Fuck that. Continue after the jump for a special bet of the week.

Read the rest of this entry »

It is with heavy hearts that we bid farewell to Brady Quinn for the rest of the season. Cleveland’s quarterback has a broken index finger, an injury that’s been exacerbated by Quinn’s insistence on using said finger to stimulate his own prostate. Truly, a sad day for football fans everywhere.

Until next year, enjoy some “classic” Quinn.

I’m sorry Kennedy Urlacher, for painting your toenails blue and forcing you to wear pink Cinderella diapers. As you can see from daddy’s Old Spice commercial, he went through a bit of an awkward phase himself, one that ultimately shaped him for the better. Not having suffered the slings and arrows of the brutal mocking of my peers, I wouldn’t be the Paris-banging fading star for a middling team that I am today. There’s something to be said for adversity is all, and I thought you had it too easy up to this point. Beats horse collaring you on the kitchen floor, I think.

I’m sorry I didn’t pick a better shade of blue. Upon further reflection, I should have picked something closer to the Bears color. Not my fault exactly. You know how Glidden has those team paints? Well Glidden doesn’t make toenail polish, and for that I’m sorry. Blue is still a boy’s color, though, so at least it’s got that gender-affirming aspect to it. And of course it doesn’t make him gay. Gay is something you learn during D&D sessions at Billy McMullan’s house when you’re in the 3rd grade.

I know Cinderella on the diapers was a particularly, maybe even excessively, humiliating touch, and, again, sorry. I look at the array of Disney princesses and, almost without exception, I get a raging fucking hard-on. Pocahontas? I’d bury my face a yard-deep in that ass. Mulan? Jasmine? Ariel? Belle? Jesus, I’d give it all back to dogpile them once in a kiddie pool full of caramel. But Cinderella? Even all decked out in the dress and shit, she’s a pretty plain-looking broad. The last thing I want is to look at my son’s diapers and get in an erection. No reason to scar the both of us, kiddo.

Anyway, I’m sorry for the diapers. And sorry for not changing them. I didn’t know you had to do that.

Many people scoff at the idea that God can control the outcome of sporting events, or that He even cares. But those people are wrong. God does control the games, AND He cares a great deal. Today, He explains why He let the outcomes of Week 12 in the NFL happen as they did.

Well, it’s Thanksgiving again. I guess you people consider that a holiday, yes? See, that’s interesting. Because here I thought the point of a holiday was TO WORSHIP ME, YOU UNGRATEFUL SHITS. I created the Earth and the Heavens. The pilgrims sailed a ship into a fucking rock. And you’re telling me they deserve a holiday?

Let me explain to you the point of holidays. It’s right there in the word: holiday. That means HOLY DAY. A day of holiness. That’s God time, baby. You think you can just say some day is a holiday without asking me? WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? I could wipe you people out with an asteroid just like that. Don’t fucking test me.

I’m tired of these non-God holidays. Labor Day? What is that shit? Well, why don’t you just make every damn day a holiday, why don’t you? “Oooh, let’s make April 12th Monkey Day! Hooray! Let’s not receive mail or have our garbage taken away!” You people listen, and you listen good. You will play by my fucking rules, or I will send you straight to my boy Luc down in Hell. And he does not fuck around. He will play your intestines like a damn harp!

So you want to spend a day being thankful, do you? Okay. All right. Two can play this fucking game. Know what I’m thankful for this Thanksgiving? Oh, that’s right. ME. Giver of light. Bestower of bountiful foods and crops. Yeah, you better thank me when you sit down at that table. Want to thank your wife for making those mashed potatoes? WELL, FUCK YOU. I made those potatoes. AND I made your wife. AND I gave her boobs. I WANT MY MEDAMN CREDIT!

Anyway, onto the week. You know what, Lions of Detroit? I’m sorry, but I really am toying with you. Sorry, Can’t help it. Maybe if the folks in your town could make a fucking car that isn’t a deathly eyesore on the planet I created, I’d be a bit more merciful. I also let two teams score over 50 points this week. Why? Who knows? I’m so MYSTERIOUS! You never know what the fuck I gonna do.

NOW WORSHIP ME AND THANK ME FOR GIVING YOU THAT WORKING PENIS, DICKSMACKS.

DREW PREVIEWS THE SUNDAY NIGHT GAME WITH BETTIS, BARBER, AND COLLINSWORTH: Gaze with wonder as Barber dispenses such dazzling opinions such as, “Gus Frerrote (sic) is the X-factor in my opinion,” and Bettis makes forceful declarations such as, “surprisingly Minnesota’s offense hasn’t played that well.” An offense led by Gus Frerotte, struggling? I’m shocked.