Here we have a 1989 Diet Coke commercial featuring some notable NFL players of the day. I can make Ronnie Lott, Boomer Esiason, Warren Moon, Al Toon, Louis Lipps, Eric Dickerson. I’m not sure about the rest, one of the guys at the end looks like my mailman. This could be a case where anonymity has its advantages.

Our younger readers might not remember, but back in the 80s everyone drank straight out of 2-liter bottles. No big deal.

Ha, ha. No seriously, it was because the Lions are really, really shitty.

NSFW language, animated jizz

In case Big Daddy Drew’s Peter King fan-fiction gay erotica just isn’t doing it for you anymore, the twisted sickos at ZubazPants.com have unleashed this tale of wanton lust. We may have to do two cheerleader posts this week to atone for this.

NSFW language.

I miss Mike Vick. Sure he killed some dogs, but, dammit, he made last year’s off-season slightly less miserable. This year we have nothing. Well, nothing except mocking Pats’ fans and the occasional comic relief from YouTube.

Maybe I’m over-analyzing this video, but marketing a weed-based breakfast cereal seems counterintuitive since stoners sleep past noon and tend to skip breakfast. Still, it’s not difficult to imagine Mike Vick getting high and staring into his Alpha-Bits looking for a message telling him how he’s going to get out of the mess that his life has become.

Maybe kinda NSFW…

Some guys enjoy spending free time meeting with friends for drinks and stimulating conversation– maybe they shoot some pool or play Golden Tee. Vikings tackle Bryant McKinnie is not one of those guys, as this video from MediaTakeOut.com clearly demonstrates.

McKinnie’s easy-going exterior masks his intense focus. See how neither a gushing fan nor puking barfly is going to keep Big Mac from his hands on that bootay. He keeps adding honeys to the freakpile until Buzz Killington shows up. He obviously doesn’t know how McKinnie can act when a fool tries slows his roll at the club. Still, I’d rather hang out with McKinnie and risk an ass-whipping than spend an evening with Jockstrap Joe.

Weird Science is a comedic gem. This homage, on the other hand, is a little creepy. Am I supposed to believe this is some sort of fantasy? Or perhaps this is the result of a Jerry Jones-funded genetic manipulation experiment conducted in a (failed) attempt to decrease Terrell Owens’ drops.

While I was vaguely aware that there are a plethora of niche erotica out there, I was heretofore unaware of the “footballs-where-boobs-should be” demographic. However, expanding readership means occasionally reaching out to a new audience. Viva la difference!

Possibly NSFW.

Just in time for your Saturday night booty-trolling, a can’t miss pick-up line: “Do you wanna ride the pony snake all the way to Tunatown?” You’ll thank us tomorrow morning, tiger.

These guys definitely didn’t skimp on the effects budget; the transition from the real Brady to the faux one is seamless. You probably won’t notice, except upon several studied viewings.

If Brady ever needs a double to distract the media while he sneaks over to Gisele’s crib, this doppelgänger should get the first call. See for yourself:

This is the duo No Parking. He is “Bus Stop”. She is “City Limit” (incidentally, it would appear this city limit begins just out of frame). They predict a Detroit Super Bowl victory in this cinematic colossus.

I am well aware that mocking rapping white kids is the lowest of the low hanging fruit. (he gets the sack!) It’s not even hanging anymore. (he calls the plays!) That banana in on the effing ground. (he wants a trade!) What can I say, I have no self-discipline whatsoever. Pray for me, won’t you?

(Hat tip to the stone cold mack of college sports blogs: Card Chronicle)