The sports blogosphere is strangely divorced from the rest of Internet culture. As it turns out, people who love getting drunk and shouting slurs at sporting events don’t share a lot of the same interests as the people commenting on Reddit and making Photoshops for the forums at Fark and Something Awful. The /b/tards at 4chan, I suspect, do not play fantasy football.

And that’s too bad, because I love Internet culture. And I love the NFL. They should get together and hang out more often; I think they’d hit it off. So I decided to introduce them. I sifted through a bunch of AP and Getty photos from Week 1 of the NFL, and I added some of the most popular memes of the last couple months (with helpful links for all you n00bs). Enjoy.

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I’m sorry, Peyton Manning, about your sudden collapse in the fourth quarter of your Monday night game. It was as if you, Peyton Manning, were sabotaged by 2005 Peyton Manning, who then opened a wormhole and instantaneously replaced you with himself. Where were you when 2005 Peyton was in the game? Did you get something to eat? I don’t know much about time travel, but I bet it would make me hungry.

I feel bad for you, Peyton Manning, because the other teams in your division are actually good now. It’s bad enough that you’re living with the burden of being a decent human being off the field, Peyton Manning, but now you have to carry your team without a running game or defense. It’s like, you were so busy acting like a football player that could carry his team…and now you actually have to BE one. It’s like that one Kevin Kline movie where he becomes president and then bangs the chick from Ghostbusters. I remember the name of his character, but not the name of that movie, for some reason.

You have so many endorsements and reputable friends, Peyton Manning, and I only have one of each. But I get to do lots of other cool stuff. I can drop in pass coverage in games and then drop my nuts on some random woman’s chin afterwards. If you only knew the anonymity that came with being a 6-foot-4-inch bald guy. You know what those great clutch players have that you don’t? Real simple–STDs. I don’t know what tainted pussy does for the competitor in me, I don’t ever question science. Or answer questions about science.

So…yeah…if you ever want to tag-team some human resources girls sometime…I’m on the cell.

[Theme to Naruto ringtone]

Eli: Hello?

Peyton: ‘Sup Dong Wong DeMarco.

Eli: What do you want, suckbutt? I’m trying to watch old episodes of Goof Troop.

Peyton: Heard the news? I’m coming to watch my lil’ brudda play in the big game. Need a quick pep talk? A cell phone plan? A credit card? Flood insurance? Tasteful decor for your living room?

Eli: What? I told you to stay away, Pey-Pey. You know how I play when you’re around.

Peyton: Can’t just let you tie the Manning Family Record for Super Bowl titles that easy. Gotta pay your dues. I had to wait a bit longer for mine.

Eli: You’re just gonna let Brady win? Is that it?

Peyton: That asshole already has more rings than I’ll ever get. What’s one more?

Eli: I’m gonna tell dad! He’ll set you straight, like that year he made you sleep under the sink when you put the milk back in the fridge with only half a sip left.

Peyton: Tell him all you want. He’ll be right next to me in a big Oreo costume. We’ll be walking up and down the aisles selling programs and beer. We move product, youngin’. That’s grown man business.

Then we’re gonna pass out masks of my face to Patriots fans at six bucks a pop. Ruin Romo had a good ring to it, so this’ll be Make Eli Cry. A whole stadium of Peyton faces staring you down. It’ll be like that scene in Being John Malkovich where everybody is Malkovich.

Eli: You know I don’t watch grown-up movies!

This isn’t fair! I want my ring like Peyton has! He won’t share his!MMMMOOOOOOMM!!!!

(Sprint cell phone plays Radiohead’s “Exit Music (For a Film)”)

Peyton: (looks at phone) Shit.

(Thom Yorke: “We hope… that you–”)

Peyton: Hey, kid.

Eli: Oh man tha’ was AWESOME! Idn’t winning playofff gamezzz FUHn?!?

Peyton: Are you drunk?

Eli: (giggles) Coash gah me a zix of Sima.

Peyton: Uh huh.

Eli: DOOOOD we beeet DALLAS! Nummer one seed in the ho’ conferen! IN DALLAS! An ya know who din’t throw an intershepshun? Guess.

Peyton: You?

Eli: No, ME!!!

Peyton: Must’ve been a nice chance of pace.

Eli: It totally was! Soooo weird! I’m don’t feel like crying at all!

Peyton: That’s great.

Eli: Oh. Oh. Oh man I’m sorry. I din’t ass how your game wen. You gettin’ rehddy fer the Pastyruts nest week?

Peyton: Uhhh…

(phone beeps)

Peyton: I gotta get that. Talk to you later.

Eli: Sure, just give me a ca–

(click)

Peyton: Hello?

Archie: That was awesome! You were in the playoffs! Is losing there any different from losing in the regular season?

Peyton: Sigh…

KSK Reader Raphael was good enough to send us this Hi-Def screen grab of Peyton Manning on the bench in the midst of the Colts’ loss to San Diego on Sunday. Yes, we’re still talking about the Sunday night game, especially since last night’s game was like watching painted grass drying, while growing. Anyway, we’ve decided to open this up to the floor. The ground rules:

1) No references to AIDS, the jungle, or sub-Saharan Africa, and
2) Just kidding, there are no ground rules.

We’ll kick it off, then you can slice like a fucking hammer in the comments.

“Hey, Jim. Jimmy. Jimmy! Do I have anything in my teeth?”

Those sweet, sweet tears you hear being cried from the Hoosier state? Enjoy them. Bathe in them. Dump buckets of them on your lawn and watch it grow. The Colts have just lost two games in a row and I’m so happy about it. I am downright goddamn giddy. UM will have a big lifestyle change forthcoming as a result of this game, but he can tell you about that later.

Peyton threw SIX FUCKING PICKS in this game, which is six more than the career NFL totals of all the contributors of this blog. Watching Peyton get annoyed when he’d have to call for the snap twice (when Saturday didn’t see him lift his leg up the first time) was fun enough. But watching him at his worst doing what he does best was the best, that was a little slice of heaven, almost as good as getting my balls licked.

I’ll always contend that hating the Mannings is the most fun because it’s all over their fucking faces when calamity strikes. They start as mildly annoyed, then grow to hate life as the day goes on. Watching Peyton with that “I just gurgled my own tartar sauce” face on the bench led to this exchange on my couch:

Her: Wow, look at Peyton. The Fetus Head is having a rough go of it.
Me: Yeah, right now he has a real de-fetus attitude.

Norv Turner got his ass bailed out by Vinatieri, whose push from 30 yards was the perfect climax to an entertaining game. Additionally, and I know it’s been said before, but Norv frightens children whose parents own HDTVs. I truly believe this is God’s way of punishing me for not giving a shit about the wildfires. I bet Norv could hid about $500 cash and three ounces of blow in the various crevaces of his face, making the Chargers’ location (just minutes from the Mexican border) more than ideal. It’s not like you can search a guy’s face. With the steriod-laden Shawne Merriman returning to form, the team could not have asked for a better mule.

Oh, and was it raining during the game last night? I never heard them mention anything about that…

The New York Post recently reported that Peyton Manning attends the Kentucky Derby every year with Kid Rock, Dennis Hopper, Travis Tritt, and George Strait. Rock told the Post:

Well, wouldn’t you know it, KSK was able to transcribe this year’s historic meeting. Here’s what happened.

Kid Rock: Who’s ready to fucking party?!

Manning: I am ready. I am more prepared than any of you for this party. I studied tape of Wisconsin students for the past two weeks. I’ve got all their tendencies down pat.

George Strait: Then let’s get to drinkin’!

Travis Tritt: Yeah, let’s watch the horses and have some fun!

Kid Rock: (whispers to Manning) So, what do you think? They’re both nice.

Manning: (drinks) I don’t know. They’re more or less indistinguishable.

Kid Rock: (drinks) C’mon, man. You need this. How long has it been?

Manning: (sighs, drinks) A year.

Kid Rock: (drinks) A year! C’mon, man! You gotta let him go!

Manning: (drinks, crying) You don’t fucking get it, man! He saw a window into my soul!

Kid Rock: (drinks) I know heartbreak, my friend. Trust me. I too had a special someone.

Manning: (drinks) Oh, you mean that little midget of yours?

Kid Rock: (drinks, lunges) Don’t you fucking talk about Joe C. like that!

Manning: (drinks) What are you gonna do about it?

Kid Rock: (drinks) Bawitdaba.

Manning: (drinks) What does that even mean?

Kid Rock: (drinks) Bawitdaba, bitch.

Manning: (drinks) Seriously, that’s just gibberish.

Kid Rock: (drinks) I’m a cowboy, bitch.

Manning: (drinks) No, you’re not. You’re from fucking Michigan.

Kid Rock: (drinks) Bawitdaba.

Travis Tritt: (drinks) Now, now, you two. There’ll be plenty of time for fightin’ later on. Let’s go try and find Randy Travis, Alan Jackson, Clint Black, Ronnie Milsap, and other similar artists.

Dennis Hopper: (does a whippet) This place is so full of… energy, man.

Manning: Jesus, who brought him? He fucking creeps me out.

Hopper: C’mon, man. Just relax. Just let the atmosphere… absorb you.

Manning: What does that even mean? None of you people make any goddamn sense.

Hopper: (does a Quaalude, pulls knife) It means you do what I say, bitch.

Manning: I thought we said no knives this year.

Hopper: When you rape Diane Keaton, you get to do whatever you want.

Manning: What?

Kid Rock: (drinks) C’mon, let’s go watch the race. Who you guys got? I got Imawildandcrazyguy, because that’s totally me.

(Street Sense wins)

Kid Rock: Fuck this, man. Where’s Meat Loaf? I want to fucking BATTLE.

Meat Loaf: I’m glowing like the metal on the edge of the knife!

Kid Rock: Don’t you sing that fucking song, fat man.

Phil Rizzuto: Ok, here we go, we got a real pressure cooker here.

Kid Rock: And no Rizzuto! That’s fucking cheating!

Meat Loaf: Very well. I shall seduce you with a 9-minute minisuite!

(both men get up on a stage)

Kid Rock: Pass me the mic, bitches! Yeeeeeeeeaaaaaahhhhh!!!!!!!
I’mma fucking party tonight
Got a Party Ball with cold Coors Light
No bitch ever tells me no
Got drunk once and nailed Sheryl Crow
Beat that, ass face.

Manning: (over in the corner) Oooh, Randy Moss! Oooh, the Pats are the team to beat! Well, la di fucking da. Who fucking won the Super Bowl this year, you fucking cunts?

Travis Tritt: (drinks) Are you okay, Peyton?

Manning: I’m fine! Those mint juleps are too fucking sweet.

Travis Tritt: (drinks) Kid told me about what happened with Kenny. If you ever want to talk, I just wanted you to know that if you need someone to talk to. Or to do a duet with…

Manning: I appreciate that, George.

Travis Tritt: Travis.

Manning: Whatever.

Hopper: (corners Strait in a stable) So Coppola has this big fucking heart attack, and then it’s like fucking anarchy, man. These Cambodian fuckers take me to a shooting range, and they let me machine gun a cow for, like $10. You ever machine gun a cow on ether?

Strait: (terrified) Uh, no.

Hopper: It’s fucking great.

Meat Loaf:
Objects in the rearview mirror may appear closer than they are…
Objects in the rearview mirror may appear closer than they are…

Random Man In Crowd: Do “I Would Do Anything for Love,” asshole!!!

Meat Loaf: I won’t do that, you fuck.

Random Man In Crowd: You melodramatic fat shit.

Manning: I love this song, man. Objects in the rearview mirror really do appear closer than they are.

Travis Tritt: Wanna go in that handicapped bathroom?

Manning: Sure.

Kid Rock: Hey, where’d everyone go? I’m Kid fucking Rock! Nobody parties harder than me! I fucked Pamela Anderson a decade too late! C’mon, man! Fuck. This party blows.