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It wasn’t long ago that the Colts were a seemingly benign alternative to the Patriots winning the AFC. Perhaps it’s because no one cares about Indianapolis or ever will (you think sportswriters complained about the Super Bowls in Jacksonville or Detroit? Wait until 2012), but we wish we had known how breathtakingly obnoxious and entitled these stupid Fat Humps were before championing their team against New England. No one, not even the Massholes, have been more annoying than Colts fans this year, whether it’s being completely humorless about any shots taken at their fanbase or their constantly talking up the record regular season winning streak that no one could possibly care about.

How did that end, by the way? Oh, your team was too frightened to take a shot at history that people would have actually gave a shit about? Sucks for you.

Bill Polian is a goddamn coward for pussying out on a chance at a perfect season. But were Colts fans justified in flooding his radio show with bitchy comments? Hell fucking no. Without Polian, your franchise is still a laughingstock and 80 percent of your fan base doesn’t exist. Get some fucking perspective, you annoying, entitled humps.

You know who does get to hate Bill Polian? Everyone else. Pissed off that his limp-dick receivers couldn’t get open off the jam during the 2003 AFC Championship Game (“They’re pressing Marvin Harrison so hard, he can’t even whip out his guns!”), that little cockweasel pissed and moaned to the competition committee (of which he’s a member) to change the rules to add more ticky tack defensive holding penalties and other assorted bullshit specifically designed to aid his little nancy passing team. The preponderance of penalties nearly every game is due to shit like this. You can bitch about the Tom Brady Rule, and justifiably so, but at least that’s intended for preventing injuries, not engineered specifically to help one team. So thanks Bill Polian for helping to ruin the sport just so Pey-Pey wouldn’t have to worry about getting knocked on his ass because his receivers aren’t open.

At their whiniest, Colts fans discredit the Pats titles this decade as the result of cheating and the Steelers titles as being won through luck only. Well, your one championship (won against Rex Grossman) is tainted by the fact that your shithead GM had to browbeat the league into changing the rules specifically to help your club.

Another thing: why are you assholes still called the Colts, anyway? The Oilers changed their name when they left Houston. It took a lawsuit from the city of Cleveland, but the Browns eventually rescinded the name and history when they relocated to Baltimore. Where do you fucktasters get off keeping the Colts name and legacy?

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I certainly hate me some Baltimore and acknowledge that jersey is a fine effort in pissing their fans off. But objectively, that’s a huge dick move. If I saw a Ravens fan pictured wearing a Modell jersey in Cleveland, I’d call for the beheading that he’d no doubt quickly receive.

So, fuck it. You’re not the Colts anymore. Let’s give you a moniker more befitting the culture of Indianapolis. Hmm. What’s in Indy that’s iconic? Nothing. Shit, this is tough. Ah, of course: You’re now the Indianapolis Extra Value Meals.

Here’s your new helmet and logo. You provide the rest.

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And if Colts fans are anything besides fat, it’s predictable – we know this post will only be met with a lame attempt at “kicking our ass” by the shrill hypersensitive yapcunts at Stampede Blue, who even the people who run their blog network hate.

Some of those jumbotards even pitched a fit recently when dumbfuck Terry Bradshaw suggested he would like to see someone other than fetushead deity Peyton Manning win MVP. First off – who gives a shit about ANYTHING Bradshaw has to say? Secondly, he didn’t claim that Peyton didn’t deserve the award (no, it was last year that he didn’t deserve it and he definitely didn’t deserve his Super Bowl MVP), merely that he’d just like to see it go to someone else for a change. That’s it. All one has to do is simply envision a season in which Peyton doesn’t win MVP to invoke the clenched-ass rage of a buffet line of Fat Humps.

You know what? Peyton can win the award every fucking year until he retires and moves away from your shit town as fast as his knobby knees can carry him, only to ever return as an opposing head coach or every seven years for a ceremonial coin flip when the Colts manage to stumble their way into a Wild Card berth without him. Why? Because he’s never won the Super Bowl the same year as winning MVP. Is there a connection? No. But it makes watching him fail that much more entertaining.

Finally, how could we talk about hating the Colts without touching on our most annoying commenter, Monkey Business? There are some who have said he’s so irritating that they think that we made him up just to make Colts fans look bad. Rest assured, we who run KSK may lead meaningless lives, but we’re also lazy. Which means we don’t have the energy to come up with 6,000,000-word rants about the Colts. And even in our twisted minds, we can’t come up with some as unsettling as a Fat Hump lusting after “Battleship Manning”.

MB knows he’s hated here and probably lists that as his chief accomplishment in life. Why else would he constantly provoke our readership? He knows he’ll get trashed for months if the Colts come up short this year, so he recently tried to offer this deal:

If the Colts lose their first playoff game, I’m out. Done. Not another word.

Oh, so you’d slink away at the only moment people would want you around, if only to taunt you? No, no, no. Don’t work that way, champ.

So here’s Monkey Business’ e-mail address. If at any point the Colts fall short in their quest for the title, feel free to bombard him with only the most vicious of taunts. We wouldn’t want little fucko not to get the proper comeuppance for running his mouth all season.