Giants-Redskins highlights the early slate. Plaxico Burress was already out of the game with a hamstring injury, but expect lots of talk about his accidental shooting. Some have already started speculating about possible legal consequences for Plax if he is found to have possessed a handgun illegally. But knowing what a stickler for the rules Plax is, we aren’t too worried about it. Also, Brandon Jacobs will be back in the lineup this week, after screwing a million fantasy teams last Sunday when he was a last-minute scratch. (Not that I’m still bitter or anything.)

Tampa Bay and New Orleans is the only other sexy match up among the early games. Elsewhere, the Panthers bring their smoke-and-mirrors show to Green Bay. The Bills and 49ers will be playing to determine once and for all who has to claim OJ Simpson. The resurgent Colts will be tuning up the ass-kicking machine in Cleveland. Regional viewers will have to sit through the Dolphins-Rams and Ravens-Bengals. You have my sympathies.

[ Thanks to LSUfreek for the creeptacular image ]

PLAX SHOT Reports are flying that Giants WR Plaxico Burress suffered a self-inflicted gunshot wound last night. Word is Plax spent the night in the hospital after accidentally shooting himself at a club. Damn, here I was thinking my weekend sucked because of all this leftover turkey, at least I didn’t shoot myself.

Make no bones about it: Washington, D.C. is an ugly city.  Oh, not the city itself — L’Enfant’s vision for a noble capital city is wonderfully realized with wide avenues and stately marble buildings.  I’m talking about the people.

The old saw of “Hollywood for Ugly People” is all too true.  The only people who might be superficially attractive there are the collar-popping set: uptight bitches in pearls and cocky jackasses in the douchebag uniform of khakis, blue blazers, and floppy “punch-me” haircuts.  Want an idea of how ugly DC is without the eyesore of going there?  It has the highest percentage of sports bloggers per capita of any major American city.

Oh yeah, DC: you ugly.  You ain’t got no alibi.

All this makes the existence of the Redskins Cheerleaders that much more remarkable.  They are wildflowers growing through the cracked asphalt of a vacant lot.  Like the duck-billed platypus, they are mysteries of nature, miracles of evolution, creatures too confounding and perfect for scientists to explain.  And there’s a whole lotta evidence of that after the jump.

(more…)

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph’s Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat: Ocho Cinco was up before dawn to shop at Best Buy this morning:

Ocho Cinco makes his way through the Best Buy store in Florence, Ky. He said was in the store to buy coach Marvin Lewis a gift. Seen with a Rock Band kit, portable stereo and a Cuisinart four-slice toaster, Ocho Cinco said, “I’ve been trying to call coach, but he doesn’t answer.” It was 5:25 a.m.

As I said over on With Leather, the only way that list of items could be better was if it included some Michel Gondry DVDs.

But you know what?  There’s a lotta shit in a Best Buy.  That list of items/potential Marvin Lewis gifts could probably be WAY better.  Since we’re lazing through the day, we’ll open up the comments for what else Chad should be buying at Best Buy.  Please include your reasoning and imagined Ocho Cinco commentary if necessary.

So what if all three of my Super Bowl titles are tainted? That’s three more tainted titles than you’ve ever won, you fucking piddling career backup.

You think you can turn this fanbase against me? Best of luck, kid. I made this fanbase, fashioned it with the sheer force of my rugged handsomeness. Before Feb. 3, 2002, there wasn’t anything but a bunch of empty fucking aluminum bleachers in Foxboro Stadium and maybe - MAYBE - a few bored Red Sox fans. I made the goddamn Patriots. Turned them into a brand and gave it meaning. You’re just keeping the throne warm. Shit, half the Massholes who follow this team think you spell your last name with two L’s. Still, YOU think you can be the man?

Heh heh heh heh heh heh heh. O-kay.

But now clueless pundits are on the cusp of defining my legacy as a system quarterback. Some fucking thanks I get for my 50 touchdowns last year. And like you look even half as good in your White Sox cap as I look in my Yankees hat when I’m parading around the streets of New York. God, I love that town.

If it weren’t for that asshole Bernard Pollard. That dick. For months I’ve thought of nothing but the furiously rakish grin I’d shoot that guy if I saw him again. And how fast I’d run to the sideline if he looked offended by it. That should be me out there against the Steelers. Shit, I’m 5-1 against them. No one, and I mean no one, is better at talking shit to the fourth safety on their depth chart then running away like a bitch when James Harrison shows up than I am.

I’d like to see you act like that much of a cunt today. In your moistest dreams, Moosetard.

And I know you’re the one who put all this extra bacteria in my knee.

[Sighs]

I want my perfect life back.

Apparently Jim Fassel’s declaration of absolute fealty did little to sway Count Al, as the coach is now a candidate to take a job in the CFL. All he has to do is beat out 16 other candidates, including super cereal Canuck hero, Doug Flutie. The stakes are indeed high, but at least Canada is a place where obsequiousness is appreciated, so maybe he has a leg up after all.

Two of the NFL’s more hackle-raising fanbases convene at the stadium where it now costs a small fortune to tailgate (it’s gotten so bad even Simmons hates it! Oh heavens!) to renew their recently one-sided rivalry. The rest of the NFL will no doubt be pulling for the meteor, while a game full of postseason implications plays out before thousands of breathless dickheads. So hold your nose while you pick WHO YA GOT?

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.