Coach Harbaugh warned me what would happen, but he’s the only receiver I trust. I should have heeded his stern warnings. Sure, Mark Clayton made some insane catches against the Bengals, but I faced tougher defenses in Division II 1-AA football. Mason’s my boy!

Months and months of staring down Derrick Mason over every dropback has fixed his image in my mind permanently. I can’t shake it.

Just the other day, I went to the CVS to pick out some more eyebrow wax, and I get up to the cashier and I see this.

I almost fell off the endcap of tacky Baltimore Christmas gewgaws. Luckily, my mind came to after a few seconds, but every time he appears it’s longer. By the end of the season, who knows if he’ll go away at all.

Sure, seeing Derrick open on the football field is a welcome sight, but I really don’t need him occupying my every thought. Soon, I won’t be able to watch movies.

Or even the news.

I mean, we could run Le’Ron McClain and Ray Rice on every play. They’re pretty good. But sooner or later we’re gonna have to pass the ball. And that means more and more searing Derrick into my unconscious. Goddammit, why does Todd Heap have to stay in and block? I need someone else to lock onto!

Could be worse, I guess. It could be Barbara Mikulski. Jesus. Why does every woman in Baltimore look like her?

Wade: Well, oh my! I sure am stuffed! My, my goodness! Got ourselves a nice little Thanksgiving break there. Always does a man good, I tell you what. You know, this time of year is always so hectic. But I think we’re well-prepared this time. I know we got those pesky Steelers coming up. And we’re still chasing a playoff spot. But I feel good about where we are.

Yep, I think we’re gonna have a much more stable December round these parts. Nope, no crises here at Valley Ranch of any sort! No emergency fires of any kind are gonna spring up and disturb an otherwise smoothly running work month. AT ALL. Time to just eeease back into work and…

(door flies open)

Jerry: YEEEEEEEEEEHAW! YEE, YEE, YEE, YEEGODDAMNHAW! YEEHAW MASON-DIXON FUCKING A GOWGIRL IN A HAYLOFT WITH HER PANTIES STUFFED IN HER THROAT! YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEFUCKINGHAW, FATASS!

Wade: Oh. shit.

Jerry: Did you see what my boy ROMO did to those Seattle faggots, Tubby? He put THREE goddamn touchdown passes right in their faggoty little messenger bags! YOU DON’T BIKE TO WORK WHEN YOU’RE PLAYIN’ THE DOUBLE-J, THAT’S FOR GODDAMN SURE!

Wade: We’re glad to have him back. But I think we’re going t have to prepare extra hard for the Steelers, sir…

Jerry: Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up. Listen, Ham Cameron, I need you to stop baking cheesecake in your crotch for a second and get your fat fucking ass out of your fat fucking chair. MOVE IT! GIT!

Wade: What’s going on? (gets out of chair) What the heck?

Jerry: Good God. Look at the assdent in that chair. That’s what Lake Superior looks like if you drain it! There are enough coffee cake crumbs in that seat to run an Aunt Anne’s factory, you galactic fat fuck!

Wade: Sir, I don’t think that’s very…

Jerry: I DON’T GIVE A SHIT WHAT YOU THINK! THIS IS MY GODDAMN CHAIR! I OWN IT! AND I DON’T PAY YOU TO SPEND ALL DAY BUTTERING IT UP FOR MUFFINMAKING, YOU BIG FAT CLAM! Now listen up, Rosie Live. I have Christmas shopping for you to do.

Wade: I can’t go Christmas shopping!

Jerry: Why not? Can’t go to mall without ending up behind the counter of a Mrs. Field’s, you cookie-loving fat shit?! Well don’t fear, fatass. I have just entered in the Amazon username and password for the Double-J’s personal online account. You’ll be shopping right from this very chair. AND NO SPANK BREAKS! I don’t want my wife getting some pair of earrings that you bought after treating your dick like a Push Pop! Now you have to get gifts for the following people:

(hands Wade 700 page list)

Wade: There are thousands of names on here!

Jerry: Fucking right. AND DON’T GO THINKING YOU’RE ONE OF THEM! I only buy Omaha Steaks for people that don’t eat them as an after dinner cooldown. Be sure to get Susan that cheese log that’s shaped like a penis. Like Wispride spreadable white wine cheddar, the Double-J’s cock is EXTRA SHARP!

Wade: Sir, I don’t have time for this. How are we gonna get ready for the Steelers?

Jerry: You fat hump. Didn’t I tell you my boy ROMO is a star?

Wade: I think you’ve maybe…

Jerry: HE’S A GODDAMN STAR! Besides, ol’ Jerry’s got a little ace up his sleeve this go round for those Pittsburgh meatstuffers. ADAM!

(door flies open)

Pacman: Yo yo. Pacman cum back 2 da lokkr room an dem otha bitchez be sayn Pacman no gud. Pacman ain’t down wid it. Pacman say dem foolz ain’t walked in his shooz. Dey ain’t kno what it lik 2 fist dat azz lik da Pac do. Dey ain’t kno what it like 2 ta grab a bitch an pak dat hatchbak. Pacman down wid it. Pacman say dem girlz got 2 giv up dat fatburger. Pacman say itz Burgertime.

Pacman gon shine. Pacman tak dat azz an put dat banana in it. Pacman ain’t no froot. Pacman got dat big Chikita shit. Dis shit naycha’s perfect fud. And Pacman gon drank. Oh, he gon drank. BULLEE DAT. Pacman say ain’t no drank drank until he turn on da sprinkla. PACMAN GON TURN ON DA AZZSPRINKLA! CHUH CHUH

Jerry: That reminds me, Fatass. Be sure to get Adam here one of those Sony ass sprinklers. No cheap Vizio ass sprinklers for my boy!

Wade: But I don’t even know what that is.

Jerry: You need to also get at least two hookers for each Cowboy alum. THE DOUBLE-J NEVER FORGETS A COWBOY! Now get them gift-wrapped, and ship them FedEx so they’re still breathin’ when they get there. NO ONE WANTS A DEAD HOOKER ON THEIR DOOSTEP!

Pacman: Pacman down wid it.

Jerry: Not everyone agrees, Adam. Also, get Irvin that pair of golden scissors he wanted.

Wade: Well, who’s gonna run the team while all this is going on?

(door flies open)

Garrett: Mmmm. Yes. Indeed. My good portly friend, shouldn’t you be in Perigord region, rooting around in the soil for precious black truffles?

Wade: Shut up.

Garrett: Oh, dear Mr. Jones! How good to see you again! I trust you had a lovely Thanksgiving. Did you get the holiday card that Priscilla sent you? I wrote it myself. There’s no levity quite like Princeton levity!

Jerry: It was lovely, Jason. I’ll treasure it always. And I’ll have fatty here get you that Vineyard Vines whale belt you asked for.

Garrett: Oh, please! No need! I already have seventeen of them! Ha ha ha!

Jerry: Ha ha ha!

Garrett: Ha ha ha!

Jerry: Ha ha ha!

Garrett: Ha ha ha! Oh, Mr. Jones. What a Princetonian you would have been! I wish you had been in our eating club. A fine eater you’d make! Unlike the human landfill opposite me now.

Wade: Hey!

Jerry: YOU SHUT UP, COACH KFC! You shut up and git my shopping done! AND MAKE SURE NATE NEWTON GETS THAT BROWNIE PAN HE ASKED ME FOR!

Wade: This sucks.

Jerry: YEEEEEEEEHAW! DOUBLE YEEEEEEHAW! TRIPLE FUCKING YEEHAW, YOU FUCKING SHOPACHOCOHOLIC!
JINGLE BALLS, HOOKERS CALL, WADE DONE LAID AN EGG!
THE JONESMOBILE HAS EIGHT WHEELS AND I’LL EAT PUSSY ANY DAY!!!!!
WAHOOOOOO, I AM FUCKING CRAZY!!!!

Hello my children. I trust that all of you are all preparing to celebrate the miraculous birth of my divine progeny in a tasteful and understated manner.

Oh come the fuck on! What is wrong with you people? You’re starting to make me think that the atheists are actually smarter than the believers. You people are getting on my last damn nerve, and no, I cannot protect you from terrorists. Terrorism is a machination of man, and it is up to man to stop the terrorists. I’m pretty much useless on this front, so don’t expect me to be watching your back while you’re preaching the good word. Let’s just move on to the explanations of Week 13’s games.

(more…)

Reminder: Send on your sexual/fantasy football queries for this week’s installment of the Fantasy Sex Advice Mailbag. It’s like Dan Savage, if he were straight and liked football. So basically, not Dan Savage. We didn’t do one last week and I’m inclined to blame it on the holiday, but, for reals, we were just lazy and jackin’ it.

Numbell one smaltest leceivel have good week. Skull big touchdown against Pateleeit, give big smirre for white peoperr who tord me go back to MIT. Hey, THAT’S LACIST!

This week I get leady for game against Cowboys. Have to keep ahead of Lavens for division read, so is supell big game, I terr foll you. Need to make sule we the winnel. To get inside infollmation, ask cousin from Ronestall Steak what we have to do to beat Darras.

“RRRRRREEEEEEE HARRRRRRRRR I AM MAKE CLAZEE FOLL YOU!”

I no understand what he mean. Ronestall Steak is a velee stlange prace.

It confound me rots. What can I do to get leady for Cowboys? I use glaphing carcurator and everything. Is important game! But then arr a sudden I hear Pittsbulgh get new sistell shitty. Why can they no get one in Kolea? Prenty of good shitty thell. They be youll sistell shitty half plice! Anyway, Da Nang arleady sistell shitty of Oakrand! Can no have two ugree sistell, Da Nang! That too much! You take one!

It tuln out, even foll Vietnamese asswhore, peoperr in Da Nang is usefur. Give many batter tactic that I can use against invading nation.

Ooooh, he rike Asian Praxico!

See, Cowboy hate Indian and eventuarry wipe out Indian. But Cowboy no destloy Vietcong. Sterrpid Cowboy Amelican get dliven away by Vietcong. So Hines set up tlip wire and punji tlap arr ovell Hines Field. Maybe I make Hines Chi Ward Tlair, to go from my endzone to Darras endzone. Sterrpid loundeye no know what hit him!

Prus Vietcong never call Hines brack half a dirty word.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. FUCK. Fuck me in the ass. Fuck me in the goat ass. Fuck me in the goat ass while forcing me to listen to a Sugar Ray CD. Fuck. Fucking shitburning cocksucker god dammit piss on my head. Did I forget to say fuck? Well FUCK. Fucking A. Fucking hell. Fucking elbow deep in my asspipe. Fucking fuck shitty fuck fuck fuck.

Fuck me. Fuck you. Fuck the world. Fuck a very small pygmy woman. Fuck a duck. Fuck a mallard. Fuck a gun. Fuck a bottle of gin. Fuck Little Richard. Fuck me sideways. Fuck me blind. Fuck me deaf. Fuck me mute. Just fucking god dammit. I mean, really. Fuck. FUCK! FUUUUUUUUUUCK! Grand Fuck Railroad.

Shit.

Fuck.

Int. the Carey Household

Mike Carey: Mike Junior, I need to see you in the kitchen immediately.

Junior: Hey dad, what’s up? You must have had a pretty rough day. I saw you get run over by a quarterback, that was pretty funny. But why was that other quarterback screaming at you?

Carey: Listen, Junior, I just went over your latest algebra problem set and there are some things we need to discuss.

Junior: What’s the problem dad? I thought I got all of the correct answers this time.

Carey: Well son, your answers were correct, but more importantly, you failed to properly explain your answers.

Junior: But if I got everything right then why do I need to bother with explanations. It seems like overkill to me.

Carey: Overkill? How can you think a proper explanation is overkill? I think I need to have this chat with your algebra teacher.

Junior: But dad, you are my algebra teacher. I won’t take algebra in school for another three years.

Carey: Well good. Maybe by that time you’ll appreciate the importance of a good thorough explanation. Until then, let me explain this first one to you from the start.

Junior: Oh God, here we go.

[Door flies open]
(more…)

Few things bring me more joy in life than eavesdropping on people on the Metro. Especially if those people are crazy drunks conversing with Canadian tourists about the looming threat of other ethnic groups taking over.

And so was the scene this morning when a 40ish black guy, wearing a ball cap and sunglasses, had this slurred exchange in the row in front of me with a bunch of white Canucks (redundant?) in town to see the District.

Man: [Leaning across the aisle] Excuse me, ma’am, is that your child?

Mother: [Surprised] Huh? Y-Yeah.

Man: Can I offer you a word of advice?

Mother: W-what? Sure.

Man: You need to make sure he learns another language when he grows up. There are three times as many Spanish-speaking people in this city than blacks. They takin’ over.

Mother: Okay.

Man: Yeah. So, you need to make sure he knows Spanish, because he’s gonna have to deal with Spanish-speaking people.

Mother: Mmhmm.

Man: You don’t have to do this today, but soon, soon, go to a book store and go to the instruction section and you got to ask them “WHERE THE SPANISH-SPEAKING TAPES AT?”

Mother: I’ll do that.

Man: Good. That’s good. If he can learn Spanish, he’s in good shape. I never got the Spanish, so I can’t deal with them. Once they take over, he’s gonna have to. [Now sounding like he's talking through his teeth] And, and, once he gets the Spanish, you know what you got to do next?

Mother: What?

Man: Learn him some Chinese. They got 1.5 billion, million people over in China. IN ONE LAND! We as Americans gonna have to deal with them sooner or later. I know you saw the Olympics. They comin’ up in the world. Women over there, they’re only allowed to have one baby. That’s crazy, if you ask me.

This went on for another 10 minutes during which I nearly pissed myself about five times. The drunk guy took five minutes just to get the freaked out Canadian husband to admit where he was from. (The guy would only saw “Not here” until his defenses were clearly worn down by the drunk’s persistence — a tactic I’ve used on many an occasion).

Anyway, your Meast this week is Plaxico Burress’ 40-caliber Glock.

Some might say it’s inappropriate to give an award named in honor of Sean Taylor to a gun on the anniversary of Taylor’s death. We do so not to make light of Taylor’s murder, but to highlight the fact that it was not the implement used in the killing that it is to blame, but the intentions of its user. Guns are not the enemy. Sure, they can be used to kill innocent people, but they can also serve the purposes of good, like when they go off randomly into Plaxico Burress’ leg.

Episode 5. Compound Swear Word, Andrew Simon, Brandon Moskal, I Can’t Stitch It Back On. Hosted By Josh Zerkle and not-so-special guest Brandon Moskal.

The level of Ohioism on today’s show is off the scale. Our bad. Barring some unforeseen spurt of whirlwind activity and/or stunning levels of logistical prowess, this will be our last show for 2008. But don’t think of this as some sort of year-end special; that would have been disrespectful to the Jews in some way, I’m sure. The show will return in 2009, better and more organized that what’s been rolled out to date (even though our current format has been generally well-received). And maybe it won’t hog all the memory on your MP3 player, either.

Shawne Merriman isn’t letting season ending surgery prevent him from holding his annual “Lights On” bowling extravaganza and charitable showcase. Among the dignitaries is Fox Sports’s Jay Glazer who delivers a pretty awkward roast to Merriman. Glazer is dedicated to the bit and doesn’t seem a bit fazed by the hecklers and catcalls. ZOMG LOOK @ THE HOOKER FROM BORAT!!!!!