There are three types of people who should watch tonight’s rancid edition of Monday Night Football: Seahawks fans, fantasy owners of Marshawn Lynch, and pathetic drunks addicted to even the lamest NFL matchup. That’s me, me, and also me.

Since we devoted our weekly live-blogification to last night’s Cowboys meltdown, tonight’s “action” from no-longer-Qwest gets only this shoddy open thread. Come for the Skittles, stay out of morbid curiosity for what Jaws and Gruden will discuss in the 4th quarter.

We’ve already posted this video, but it needs to be witnessed again in order to (A) honor Week 14 Meast Marshawn Lynch and (B) rebuff anyone who thinks the award belongs to someone else.

And yes, there was plenty of meastiness to go around this week: Aaron Roders continued his brilliance with a clutch performance despite his wide receivers’ sudden case of the drops; Ray Rice ran for two bills and a score (against Cleveland); Chris Johnson — no doubt rested from taking the first nine weeks of the season off — put up 150+ yards and two touchdowns; Demaryius Thomas somehow accrued 144 yards on passes from Tim Tebow; and a defensive player on your favorite team had a dominant performance, but I won’t name him so you can complain about the snub in the comments.

Still, none of that was quite as impressive as Meast Bode 2.0 disappearing from swarms of tacklers to score a touchdown for the 8th straight game. And this isn’t me speaking as a Seahawks fan; this was a unanimous decision among the Gay Mafia. So there.

Your Jeff George Memorial Least of the Week is even less surprising:

Read the rest of this entry »

Don’t mind me, just putting this here so I can have it forever, like a neverending handful of Skittles.

(GIF via)

“TASTE THE RAIN MOE! GIMME ALL DAT BAG! GONE SKIT SKIT SKIT SKIT SKIT SKIT”

In conclusion, if you reward your child with candy for every positive deed, they’ll either grow up to be a mentally warped fatty with a skewed set of extrinsic motivations or a borderline deranged NFL running back. I’ll take those odds.

[via]

The Ravens suffered yet another letdown to an inferior team a week after expending all their energy beating the Steelers. Hopefully a really bad team can make the playoffs to knock them off. We’ll have to settle for whoever wins the AFC West.

Marshawn Lynch was in Measty form, posting 167 total yards, especially when he juked Ray-Ray out of his nuts on a critical late 3rd down to seal the win. Apparently tackles are hard to make when you can’t dive onto a pile way late.

Perhaps it wasn’t a lack of focus that fell Baltimore. Maybe the Ravens were paralyzed with fright by the mere glance at NIGHTMARE SEACHICKEN. I know I would be.

Marshawn Lynch: What dis U need be seein me ’bout?

Buddy Nix: Take a seat, son. I’ve got some serious news for you.

Marshawn Lynch: We’s gots da matza rilla stick cereal now?

Buddy Nix: No, I’m afraid that’s not it. Marshawn, we’ve decided to trade you to the Seattle Seahawks. It wasn’t a decision we arrived at easily. You have been a tremendous competitor for the Bills franchise ever since you came into the league. However, the backfield being as crowded as it is, the franchise felt it was better to get something in return for you now rather than try to go forward using three running backs at once.

Marshawn Lynch: Dayum. Iz traded? Tell me U got a tricked-out pussywhip fo’ me.

Buddy Nix: Actually, it was a 4th round pick next year and a conditional draft pick the year after.

Marshawn Lynch: Dat it? U a lousy trademaker.

Buddy Nix: We’ll just have to disagree on that.

Marshawn Lynch: AY! Dey got da Applebeez in Seattle?

Buddy Nix: I believe so.

Marshawn Lynch: Phew. Aight. I be seein’ ya.

[Walks out]

[Later, aboard Paul Allen’s 414-foot yacht]

[interior of a room filled with money]

Warburton: Begging your pardon, sir, but you appear to have a visitor.

Paul Allen: At this hour? I’m not expecting any visitors until Barry arrives, and he isn’t scheduled to be here until after the summit on Thursday.

Warburton: I am afraid it is not Obama, sir. Rather, the man identified himself – quite crudely, I might add – as a member of the Seahawks.

Paul Allen: Seahawks… oh, right. The football team I own. Very well. Send him in.

Warburton: Yes, sir. But I must first caution you that he has a highly irregular manner of speech.

Paul Allen: Noted. Thank you, Warburton.

Marshawn Lynch: AAAAAAAIIIIIIIIEEEEE I GO BEEF MOE! SEEZ ALL DIS SCRILLA AND WANNA GET ON WITH ABABABABBBABABBBAAABBABAAA! GONNA GIT THE MONEY BIN AND JET SKI THRU DAT SHIT!

Paul Allen: You weren’t kidding, Warburton. Any idea what he’s saying?

Warburton: I believe he is enticed by the amount of wealth on display.

Paul Allen: Yes. That is a common reaction. [To Marshawn] You there. Why have you come?

Marshawn Lynch: Yo team, dey got me in from da Buffalo. Wanna go BEEF MOE. Need go BEEF MOE. In da Buffalo, they keeps me on da bench. Keep using da Fredjack and da Spillaman. Ain’t even tryna see no BEEF MOE. But now I gone and now I here. I ready go BEEF MOE for you.

Paul Allen: I see. I believe that is a matter to take up with the coaching staff, as they handle the day-to-day football operations.

Marshawn Lynch: AW HEEL NAW. See, dats how Da Man work. He pass it off to da UDDA MAN. Den da UDDA MAN. Before U know it, you is on BENCH MOE. Cain’t be havin’ it.

Warburton: I don’t care for his tone, sir. Shall I alert security?

Paul Allen: No. I find his animalistic zeal oddly compelling. Reminds me of the Tanzanian shaman who taught me how to extract the still-beating heart from a man’s chest using only a tie clip.

If it is in the manner of a beast that you wish to comport yourself, we will find an outlet for such yearnings. During the next home game, make certain he is introduced to band of psychotropic drug subjects we keep on hand for the purposes of creating crowd noise.

Marshawn Lynch: Fo sho! BEEF MOE FO SHO! BEEF MOE FO DAYS! RUN UP IN THE JOINT DONE SCREAM NATNATNATNATNATNATNATNATNAT

… Now if you plead can you be showin’ me to yo fanciest Applebeez?

I ran into The Conquistador at the Madden Bowl party tonight in Miami. Guy has so much poise he didn’t even know what to say when I asked him about his poise. The full interview tomorrow will be up at The Sporting Blog.

Beef Moe, however, he’s never at a loss fo’ words. Fo’ sho’.

PRESENTING THE FIRST PUBLISHED WORKS OF E.E. CRUNKINGS
(Note: Every stanza has lines from both Marshawn Lynch’s blog and an e.e. cummings poem)

i know i messed up before and even fumbled, but it’s something about me that a lot of people wouldn’t believe…
buy me an ounce and i’ll sell you a pound.

anyone lived in a pretty how town
i need all da buffalo fans to keep it lit for us while we doin our thang
Buffalo Bill’s defunct who used to ride a watersmooth-silver stallion

we started workouts again and its time to do work all over again…
whistles far and wee
I’m havin a “I’m ya daddi boi toy give a way.”
and eddyandbill come running from marbles and piracies and it’s spring
Me up at does out of the floor

And eyes big love-crumbs, and possibly i like the thrill
U feel me tho? lmao.
someones married their everyones.
you wanna know how???
they do not give a fuck for luck

im n da yard today to say RIP to a fallen BEAST and ma prayers are out to his family…..
one day anyone died i guess
?o baby i wouldn’t like Death if Death were good:for when
we did are thang against dem chief.

i put my shirt and pants on da same way u do…
follow no path all paths lead where Women and men (both dong and ding)
nuh nuh nuh…

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
two words…
BEAST MODE!

Bad News, Bills: Running back Marshawn Lynch, AKA e.e. crunkings, will be suspended for the first three games of the coming season after the off-season traffic stop that led to an illegal gun conviction.  It will cost him about $112,000 in salary, which may delay his trip to Fiji to see if the water is really like that.

But worry not, Bills fans.  As Marshawn stated in his most recent blog post:

its been kinda rough dis last month on me… but i held it together and stayed strong … i figured what don’t kill me make me stronger… i know i messed up before and even fumbled, but it’s something about me that a lot of people wouldn’t believe… i put my shirt and pants on da same way u do… but on a nother note, we started workouts again and its time to do work all over again… hold ya chin up… nuh nuh nuh… gone

Oh, Marshawn, you make me want to give up capital letters forever.

[Driving outside Sony Picture headquarters in Culver City]

Film Exec: And that’s why the casting director thought you’d be perfect fit for the role.

Marshawn Lynch: I go BEEF MOE on big screen? Get paid scrilla for it?

Film Exec: That’s the idea.

Second film exec: If this works out, we could find a spot for you in our upcoming Don’t Wake Daddy feature.

Agent: Isn’t that claymation?

Second film exec: Yeah, but we need voice actors.

Agent: How about actual voice actors?

[Both laugh]

Second film exec: Yeah, sure. Sal Simmowitz on the poster. Maybe we can do a bio of him for the Blu-Ray.

[Two swap baggies of coke]

Film exec: See, we’ve done live action Muppets movies, but no one has ever done live action Muppets with actors as Muppets.

Second film exec: And you, of course, would be ideal for Animal. Just a wonderful match there. And a perfect springboard for you, by the way.

Marshawn: Anne Maul solid for BEEF MOE. Get them drums? PPPFFFFOOOOOOO Stupid on them drums, boi.

Film exec: We were thinking Rowlf, but the race thing might have made it hot button.

Second film exec: We got Angelina Jolie doing her Mighty Heart brownface thing.

Agent: Much better that way.

Marshawn: Get in character. [Bangs on steering wheel with fists] NATNATNATNATNATNATNATNATNATNAT

Film exec: Easy, easy. You got loads of time to practice this stuff. Principal photography isn’t for months.

Marshawn: [Pulls out gun] NATNATNATNATNATNATNATNAT

Second film exec: Who gave him the prop gun?

[Fire shots in the air]

Marshawn: BEEF MOE LEVEL TWO! NEXT LEVEL BEEF MOE! NATNATNATNATNATNATNATNAT

[Sirens blare]

Film exec: Aw shit. Stay cool, stay cool. We got this covered.

[Car pulls over with Marshawn still banging on the steering wheel. Cop approaches driver's side window]

Cop: All right gentlemen. Let’s have it.

[Each exec hands one baggie of coke to the cop. The cop remains impatiently with hand extended toward Marshawn.]

Cop: Ahem.

Film Exec: C’mon Marshawn. Hand one over.

[Cop clears throat. Marshawn continues banging on wheel.]

Marshawn: Ain’t got that powder for you, boy. Traded dat joint for extra Maple Butter Blondie at Applebees. Dessert too damn solid there, boy. Give me that leg kick.

Cop: That’s it. I’m taking him in.