cycloidhead

Hypocycloids shaved into the back of your head AND yellow camo? NO! We’re supposed to make fun of THEM for that! It almost ruins the effect of Ravens fans becoming towel spinning tards for a night.

My little adventure in being a pretend journalist for another day was a pointless exercise in self-denial and disturbing amounts of sobriety. The press box may offer a nice view of the field, Internet access and free deli sandwiches for fat writers, BUT IT IS NO LIFE FOR ME! I require screaming, booze, hateful epithets and copious taunting. Sure, it recalled to me my stodgy days in “J-SCHOOL” but that’s before I broke through to the “NU-SKOOL” of blogging. So in the future, I will continue enjoying my football far from the glitterati of the media, where I can make my dick jokes and drink my gutter liquor without concern of violating some cockamamie idea of professionalism. Also, I passed Bob Costas in the hallway without Falcon Punching him. I’ll understand if you think me a sell out.

But I did get to ask Mike Tomlin a stupid question and see Hines cry in the locker room. Totes worth it!