You might remember when we posted Greatest Croaks’ tribute to the Cowboys’ Hail Mary win over the Vikes in the 1975 playoff (by the way Part IV of that epic saga is now online—you can tell it’s epic by my use of Roman numerals, just like a Rocky movie or a Led Zeppelin album). Anyhoo, he’s back with his tribute to the Patriots as they battle with the Jets—complete with spy-cams galore. I admire Charlie X’s no-nonsense approach and would totally do his sometime time girlfriend Erica. Is the Mangini resemblance uncanny or what? Too bad this video came out days before Chad Penningtoad was replaced by Brett Frogvre.

Holy Taco.com has been on my radar for a few weeks now and consistently delivers teh funnay. But today they had to go and ratchet up the hilariousity. I believe the following meets or exceeds minimum federal requirements for a “laff-riot.”

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You fackin’ Yankee-lovin’ faggots in Bristol have gawt sam fackin’ nerve! Last night was supposed to be ow-uh night! The fackin’ Red Sawx nation has waited YEE-AHS for you to recognize that ow-uh beloved Sawx deserve that Best Fackin’ Team ESPY.

AND YOU GO AND GIVE IT TO THE FACKIN’ GIANTS! FACK YOU! SACK MY FACKIN’ CAWK, YAH FACKIN’ ANKLEGRABBAHS!

(opens tin of Kodiak, tucks entire tin into lower lip)

Everyone knows that Kevin fackin’ Yooookulus and my boys deserved that fackin’ steel buttplug of a trophy you hand out. YOOOOOOOK!!!! My fackin’ boys were-ah the dawninant farce is awl of sparts last yee-ah. HOW DAY-UH YOU DENY THEM THE AWAAAAD THEY EARNED!

(spits into Snapple bottle)

I will NEVAH get ovah this, you fackin’ ball lickahs! This one’s a real stomach punch! I had to cawl my dad seven times last night just to make shar he wasn’t killed by yar fackin’ snub. And seein’ as how he drinks six handles of Popov a day, that’s nevah a safe bet! I myself had two listen tah two Incubus reckaaads in a row just tah calm myself down.

But that didn’t wark. So I kicked my garlfriend in the tits.

(spits into Snapple bottle)

I should have seen this coming. I knew you fackahs in Bristol ah biased towards New Yark. You always have been. YOU CONNECTICUT FACKS AAAAAHN’T TRUE NEW ENGLANDAHS! Oh, you may have lovely small towns and neglected shithole cities filled with shiftless dahkies, just like Mass, BUT YOU AAAAAHN’T FACKIN’ HAAAAHDCOR-UH LIKE US AND YAH NEVAH WILL BE! FACK YOU!

(spits into Snapple bottle)

You wish you were-ah fackin’ REAL Sawx fans like me and my buddy Sal, who just became a Sawx fan three yea-ahs ago, but yar nawt! YAH JUST FACKIN’ AMATCHAHS! It’s clear you know nothing about fackin’ sparts, nor could you pawssibly appreciate them on thah level that we legendary Baaaston fans do. If you did, you nevah would have given that fackin’ awaaahd to those faggots on the Giants!

(fills Snapple bottle with spit. Places it on “Dip Trophy” shelf. Opens Fruitopia bottle. Pours out Fruitopia. Spits into Fruitopia bottle)

The fackin’ Giants ahhh the best team in the warld? THEY WEREN’T EVEN THE BEST TEAM IN THE NFL! Everyone knows that Tawmmy Brady and my boy Billy Belichick were-ah the fackin’ cream of the NFL crawp last season. They were-ah the best team! They just happened to lose Supah Bowl Farty Two! The Giants gawt fackin’ lucky! The Pats still went 16-0 in the regulah season. You know how many othah teams have done that? Fackin’ zero! That’s history. Yar fackin’ denying history. YAH PRAWBABLY ALSO WANT TO DENY THE HAWLOCAWST, YOU FACKS! HAWLOCAWST DENY-AH! HAWLOCAWST DENY-AH! HAWLOCAWST DENY-AH!

(spits into Fruitopia bottle)

To deny my beloved Red Sawx and my somewhat beloved Pats they-ah rightful place in history is a fackin’ great disgrace upawn the reputation of needless awaaahd shows. You’ve lawst yah credibility, yah fackin’ ASSTHUMBAHS! This is the warst thing that has evah fackin’ happened in the history of everything evah. Even warse than when Karn cancelled they-ah consart in WOOSTAH! I was gawnna drawp acid that night! And I did!

(fills Fruitopia bottle. Spits on floor)

But you underestimate the great resawlve of the legendary Beantown faithful. We’ll get ovah this. Togethah. We’re-ah ah fackin’ tight knit town. We stick togethah. Except for those fackin’ nips on my cawnah. I hope they get fackin’ sent back to the fackin’ rice paddies! Ching chong cho, yah fackin’ gooks. LESS GOOKS, MOR-AH YOOOOOOOOKS!!!!

We survive. We endur-ah. Know why? Becawse we have charactah. You wouldn’t fackin’ undahstand that. But we do. We’ve lived through some haaaahd times. And this is one of those times. To think I was enjoyin’ another fackin’ Celtics title just a couple weeks ago, only to be knawked down by you facks once again.

(spits on floor)

Well, we’ll show you. We’ll get ow-uh ESPY, and then we’ll rub in yah fackin’ face UNTIL YOU WANT TO DIE! SUCK ON THAT, JIZZDRINKAHS!!!!

How kickass was the George Michael Sports Machine back in the late 80’s/early 90s? The hokey phony sports computer equipment notwithstanding, his show was must-see on Sunday nights– Dan Patrick and Keith Olbermann be damned. The clip below details the 1993 regular season finale between the playoff-bound Steelers and the Bill Belichick’s Cleveland Browns.

Belichick was fresh off his dumbass decision to cut starting QB and local folk-hero Bernie Kosar in favor of Todd Philcox. You all remember the great Todd Philcox, don’t you? They built a 50-foot statute in his honor in front of Severance Hall after he won his third league MVP award. Just kidding, he was a fucking bum.

Anyway, after Neil O’Donnell led the Steelers to a come from behind win, Belichick was in no mood for post-game pleasantries. He even goes as far as to leave Greg Lloyd hanging. What a class act.

Fast-forward fourteen years, Belichick has long since shed his image of a losing philanderer with the manners of pillaging Visigoth. Now he’s known far and wide as a choking philanderer with the manners of a pillaging Visigoth. Enjoy.

[ top image via SbB ]

Not included:

“where Larryoke happens”

“where ratting out your dealer happens”

“where Senior Seau happens”

Larry Izzo hosts a karaoke event dubbed “Larryoke” and his Patriot teammates turned out in en masse. Since it’s for a good cause, we probably shouldn’t mock Wes Welker and the rest of the 18-1 choke brigade over this. But then Kyle Eckel has to go and do something like this…

To truly appreciate the hilarity, you have to view the entire photostream. No Brady, but not surprisingly, Matt Cassel is a capable substitute.

[ via: Busted Coverage ]

UPDATE: Commenter jm comes through with video goodness:

Mr. Burns: Excellent, now what have you got for me?
Nick Kaczur: Nick Kaczur has become a snitch.
Nick KaczurMr. Burns: Tell me something I don’t know!
Nick Kaczur: Sometimes I go to the movies alone.

Pats starting offensive tackle Nick Kaczur got pinched in April for possessing a small amount of hillbilly heroin. Rather than face the music like a man In the interests of bettering his community, Kaczur offered up his dealer– engaging in some controlled buys while wearing a wire.

The dealer’s lawyer would have us believe his client is guilty of nothing more than being an overzealous, starstruck fan who warned Kaczur of the danger of his behavior. If he wasn’t charging him $3,900 for 100 pills, we might be more willing to believe the dealer was doing it out of the goodness of his heart. If being a snitch isn’t bad enough, Kaczur tried to run the okey-doke on the Globe reporter who broke the story:

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, bro,” Kaczur said repeatedly, in response to questions about the investigation. “I don’t know where this is coming from. I don’t know what you are talking about.”

I wonder if they had asked Kaczur about his team’s historic collapse in the Super Bowl if his memory would be so cloudy, “I don’t no nothing about losing the Super Bowl, bro. I’ve never even heard of David Tyree.”

The New York Giants were awarded their Super Bowl Rings last night in a plush ceremony at Tiffany & Co. Meanwhile, a continent away, Oakland Raiders owner Al Davis commemorated his teams’ 2007 campaign my handing out cans of Dinty Moore® Beef Stew. The ritzy Manhattan affair was marked by a regal blue carpet leading to the famed jeweler’s front door. While on the west coast, Raiders owner announced the stew giveaway via an index card thumb-tacked to the bulletin board at the OTAs.

The rings, designed with input from the players, are worth an estimated $25,000 each. Said Eurydice Kleinschmidt, Special Project Coordinator for Tiffany’s, “This isn’t just a Super Bowl victory, it’s a New York Super Bowl victory. Everything has got to be bigger, brighter more exciting.” Davis scored the Dinty Moore for $7.99 per case. Floor Manager Gregg Sekelski of the Fremont Costco explained, “A few cases of the Dinty Moore fell off the forklift today. Some of the cans were dented, so we thought we’d have to throw them away. Fortunately this creepy old guy in old lady’s glasses bought them right up.”

“Winning a championship is great and all. But once you put that ring on your finger, it’s a whole other story,” gushed linebacker Kawika Mitchell. Davis was equally enthusiastic about his prize, “Stew keeps the boys from gettin’ the consumption or hip gout. Silly cabin haystack carburetor.”

Today is Patriots’ Day in New England. And as a testament to the fighting spirit of the revolution, the New England Patriots aren’t going to let something as minor as losing the Super Bowl detract from the marketability of an undefeated season.

The fearless muckrakers at The Smoking Gun reveal that not only have the Patriots not abandoned their quest to trademark “19-0” since the Giant Snatch, they have amended their original application. Before we dismiss this legal wrangling as mere wishful thinking on the Patriots part, maybe they know something we don’t. Maybe the stinging defeat at the hands of the Giants caused Bill Belichick to redouble his resolve to build the Patriots into an unstoppable gridiron juggernaut that will finish the 2008 season without a blemish. Or maybe Belichick has added Doc Brown and Professor Peabody to the coaching staff and plans on tearing the space/time continuum asunder. Only time will tell.

The NFL’s finest have gathered in Honolulu for the annual showdown betwee — Wait… should we prattle on about a game that no one gives a rats ass about anyway, or should we continue to revel in the misery of Pats fans?

Yeah, I thought so too. Let’s hear from Fitzy….

This may end up being the best off season ever. Cheers!