GIVE US THE RAINBOW OF YOUR ZIPPER FETISH! YOU WILL LIGHT THE FIELD ON FFFFIIIIIAAAAAAHHHH

The epic Bill Belichick-Jim Caldwell blood feud is renewed in this, a contest bound to be sorely lacking in superlatives about the quarterbacks involved. But there are so many other intriguing storylines aside from the obvious QB comparison. Is it Laurence Maroney or is it Joseph Addai who is more generally useless? Can Austin Collie’s grittiness unseat Welkah’s on this grand primetime stage? Will Caldwell ever forgive Dwight Freeney for not employing his many spins as a running back at Wake Forest? Why won’t we ever give the Meast to Peyton?

These questions and more will be quickly brushed aside in favor of dick jokes, soft porn and making light of the reinforced stereotypes in that “Precious” movie.

TODAY! TODAY! TODAY!

AT THE LAMBEAU FIELD! FIELD! FIELD!

IT’S BLOOD, SWEAT AND GEARRRRRRRS!

WITH AARON “GRAAAAAVESITTER” RODGERS!

AND FELIX “HAAAAAMSTRING” JONES!

IT’LL BE ACTION ACTION ACTION!

KIDS GET FREE CORN DOG WITH PURCHASE OF TWO ADULT TICKETS!

AND STICK AROUND FOR PHILIP “CARMALARD” RIVERS AS HIS CHARRRRGERS TAKE ON ANDY “ASLEEP AT THE WHEEL” REID IN A WINNER TAKE ALL DEMOLITION DEEERBY!

(Plus two horrible games from the West divisions)

TODAY! TODAY! TODAY!

Dolphins linebacker Joey Porter has been benched against the Buccaneers this week. Apparently running one’s mouth against the Patriots will earn you a vacation against the next scrub team on the schedule. Which is almost interesting…

Tampa Bay beat the Packers last week, an NFC North team that was playing good ball before getting swept up by the Favre Frenzy, and then getting swept. But the weather seems to be terrific today, Joey. Surely you could get a quick nine holes in before kickoff. Scores. Maps.

We leave you this week with a couple of images from the occasionally NSFW Suicide Blonde, and one order of specially requested beefcake.

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One week without the pewter and the Tampa Bay Buccaneers became the last team in the NFL to pick up their first win of the season (woohoo). This week they’ll undoubtedly cast aside their campy throwbacks, which will of course result in another familiar loss. Continue after the jump for this week’s NFL bets, plus a prediction for the weekend’s best sporting event (not soccer).

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In retrospect, it’s really sad we didn’t have a liveblog of last night’s game. Yes, it was one of those grinding low scoring affairs that people who fetishize offense always complain about. But then there were also FIVE CUTLERF*CKER SULKERCEPTIONS! TWO IN THE ENDZONE! A VERITABLE BONANZA OF KKAKE-INFUSED SCHADENFREUDE! And it’s doubly disappointing because we are absolutely committed to not touching the abortion that is the Ravens and the Browns on Monday night (sorry, but we do it out of compassion for our regulars, so they need not feel compelled to tune in) so it looks like we’re on for Carolina and Miami next Thursday. Wait, that’s no good either. I’m not dealing with a third live blog with 50,000 Wildcat jokes in 10 weeks. Screw it, we’ll just do BradyManningfest on Sunday night. Book it.

This week we’re highlighting the very obscure, totally non-showcase match-up between Peyton Manning and Tom Brady. I doubt any NFL-related TV shows will explore this particular angle of the Colts-Patriots game on Sunday, so it’s good that we are.

Pey-Pey and Dreamboat have met in a lot of big games this decade, so they have a “rivalry” even though I doubt there is any actual animosity between the two of them. Brady has won most of the contests, but Peyton has had the advantage the last few years. They’re both really good and shoo-in Hall of Famers.

Peyton is a robot who gesticulates too much at the line of scrimmage and, according to Peter King, is possessed of anal traits. Early in his career, it was fun to mock him for being without a championship and gay for Kenny Chesney. But then he went and won a title while the Chesney jokes got old. Now he’s just a really good quarterback who appears in a lot of commercials. The worst I can say about him is that Colts fans, even though Peyton has won multiple MVP awards and is generally thought to be the face of the league, act as though he’s somehow ignored and underappreciated. Because they’re all Midwestern diptards with nothing else in their lives, but that’s not really Peyton’s fault, is it?

Tom Brady is a smug asshole, but then he leads an almost cartoonishly perfect life. Would you or I be unbearable were we lavished with such gifts? Probably. I’m already kind of a dick and I don’t have anything on Brady. As quietly as one can do something on the overexposed Patriots, Brady has “quietly” returned to his dominating pre-injury form in the last few weeks, regaining the timing with Randy Moss that was clearly missing in the Pats first few games. That doesn’t make him or his fans, many of whom wanted Brady traded last year then complained that he wasn’t traded when he struggled some out of the gate this year, any less obnoxious. He cheated on Bridget Moynahan, he wears Yankees hats in public while he plays for a Boston (er, sorry, “New England”) team, earlier this year he blew off the Matron Saint when she tried to get a post-game quote from him. He’s a dick. You can nail him and Pats fans for the Spygate and 18-1 stuff, but then the amount of irrational hate the Steelers have received in the last year has actually made me identify with the Massholes some. Did I actually write that? Oh well.

I think the first time Peyton and Brady ever met kind of captures their respective personalities perfectly.

Already a two-time Pro Bowler, Manning nevertheless introduced himself: “I’m Peyton Manning.”

“And I said, ‘No (expletive),’ ” Brady said yesterday, laughing. “We were both getting warmed up and he was probably on his 100th throw of the day, two hours before the game. It was a pretty quick meeting.”

Robot, meet dickhead.

I was supposed to write the mailbag last night, but then I got drunk on bacon-infused bourbon Old Fashioneds, watched “Top Chef,” and went to bed a little before midnight. Then I woke up at 3:30 a.m. and couldn’t fall asleep, so I decided to answer your questions in the quiet hours before dawn. Now that it’s well into the afternoon, I’m a goddamn zombie and that’s why you’re not getting any kind of sensible introduction here.

Featured below: a follow-up message from the gentleman whose girlfriend has the regrettable tattoo she’s ashamed of, the wonders of Ray Rice and Donald Driver, shtupping roommates and local barmaids, suicide pools, ex-lesbians, bald college poon, and the absolute worst drunken college experience possible. Enjoy.

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Where would an impressionable Bengals fan pick up such attention-seeking behavior? Oh right.

An eighth grade Bengals fan was assigned to in-school suspension because of his expression of team spirit. Dustin Reader was sent home by school authorities who determined his haircut—featuring a team logo– was “extreme and distracting.”

I suppose that if the question is WHO DEY? WHO DEY? WHO DEY GON’ SUSPEND THIS BOY AND HIS SLIGHLY CROOKED HAIRCUT? Then his principal is DEY. He dey. He is definitely dey.