It’d be nice if I could sit down for a few hours on a Saturday and Sunday to watch the NFL Draft. But nooooo, I need to save some dowager from a man-sized lizard scientist who emerges from the subway and just happens to be on a homicidal bent. This shit drives me up the wall.

Fuck. Sorry about that. It’s all the residual bad puns I have after being bitten by a radioactive Stan Lee. That radiation is the only thing keeping that goofy bastard alive. That and Spike Lee-like movie cameos.

Anyway, I’m your fucking neighborhood fucking friendly fucking Spiderman. Cheer for me as I contemplate quitting the supaheera game at the 41st minute of the movie you watch next Friday, only to make a triumphant return at the denouement. I bet I’ll have to face off with the Kingpin in Spiderman 4. He was black in the Daredevil movie for whatever reason.

So, yeah. What I wouldn’t give to spend my weekend vegging out and watching the draft and taking that pert firecrotch of mine up the ass at every commercial break.

I see the Raiders are picking first. Somehow the powerful black suits have endowed them with enhanced abilities to implode. I asked Aunt May who I think they should go with, because I’m a young man with incredible talents and resources in a city with incredible access to poon and I spend all my time tending to my withered aunt. She keeps nattering on about how she’d like to be plowed by that ripe young fox, Al Davis. That’s kind of fucking gross, but it gets her away from jilling herself off to the Vulture.

Being from New York, I’m a huge Jets fan. Why is it that they consulted with Larry David but couldn’t deign to talk to someone who has saved the city untold times? At least stick with a native nebbish Jew like Woody Allen, except he’d want Marshall McLuhan to play left guard. Doesn’t Larry David live in L.A. anyway? I fucking hate L.A. How are you supposed to travel around on web when there are no tall buildings to attach on? No wonder why they don’t have an NFL team.

I like Mangenius but when he straps on that rhino suit, man, we just have to have it out. It’s not too bad, he’s ready to call it off and have a butter sandwich after his fourth charge at me. The Jets pick 25th and the first round already takes all fucking day anyway. It all starts at noon and ends around 7. I’ve already saved the fucking city a good half dozen times and I’m ready for it to go to shit again.

You know what’s good for watching the draft? Webbing. Yeah, that shit is downright delicious. I shoot it everywhere and no one ever thinks to take a taste of the stuff. It’s kind of depressing because I’ve spent years tinkering with the ingredients to make it just right. I have ranch-flavored webbing too. On top of a salad, in an omelette, it really goes with everything. My plan is to whip up some awesome fucking chili, sprinkle some webbing in there and leave some over for some dip.

Fuck it. I’m just going to ignore this city’s problems for a change. They got police, don’t they? Shouldn’t they do something for once? I’d like to see that happen. Don’t think ‘ol Wallcrawler doesn’t have to pay taxes on the piddling photo money he makes from the Bugle and the big fat bupkis he makes from this gig. In fact I’m giving up the Spidey thing, I’m -

The draft is finally here this week. Hey, nice job making us wait two months longer than is necessary, NFL! I really wanted to wait week after agonizing week until the draft finally showed up on what will inevitably be the nicest day of spring. Asses. This week, we’ll be asking notable celebrities from the world of TV, politics, and more to give us their thoughts on this year’s selection meeting. Next up: actor and model parent Alec Baldwin.

“Hey I wanna tell you draftees something okay, and I wanna leave a message for you right now because again its 10:30 here in New York on a Wednesday and once again I’ve made an ass of myself trying to see you assholes work out at a specific time. When the time comes for me to come see you little fuckers lift weights, or run on turf, or do vertical leaps, or eat as many blueberry pies as you can, I stop whatever I’m doing and I go and I grab my short shorts, clipboard, and stopwatch. And I come to the Notre Dame or Ohio State or whatever the fuck it is campus at eleven-o-clock in the morning and you and your pathetic Zionist Jew agent (who probably has no sympathy at all for the plight of the Palestinians) aren’t there and you don’t even have your god damn phone turned on. How dare you insult me. I was nominated for an Oscar. You majored in kinesiology. Advantage: Me.

“I want you to know something okay, I’m tired of playing this game with you. Especially you, Alan Branch. Your leg is fucked and I know it. I’m leaving this message with you to tell you, you little shits have insulted me for the last time. You have insulted me, you don’t have the brains or the decency as a human being, I don’t give a damn if you’re 22-years-old, or 23-years-old, or 27-years-old if you went to Oklahoma State, or that you have the mental capacity of a small child like my useless daughter Ireland, or that Jim Tressel is a thoughtless pain in the ass, who doesn’t care about what you do as far as I’m concerned, you have humiliated me for the last time with this workout, and when I come out there next week, I’m gonna fly out there for the day just to straighten you out on this issue.

“I’m gonna let you know just how disappointed in you I am and how angry I am with you that you’ve done this to me again. I have a mock draft that I show to everyone that is always at least 22% percent accurate, and you are fucking it up. You have made me feel like shit and you have made me feel like a fool over and over and over again, and this crap you pull on me with this god damn work out situation that you would never dream of doing to Ron Wolf and you do it to me constantly, and over and over again. Fuck you all. I’m not gonna record any more joke answering machine messages for you and your friends. Nor will I do my underrated DeNiro impression for you, nor will I recite any lines from “Glengarry Glen Ross” for you. Kiss my black ass.

“I am gonna get on a plane or I am gonna come out there for the day and I’m gonna straighten your ass out when I see you, do you understand me? I’m gonna really make sure you get it. I’m gonna slim down to my Jack Ryan/”Miami Blues” weight and grab your sorry ass by the lapels and paralyze you with my intense gaze. Then I’m gonna get on a plane and I’m gonna turn around and I’m gonna come home. Then I’m going to make a pasta salad. So you better be ready Saturday, the 28th, to meet with me so I’m gonna let you know just how I feel about what rude little pigs you really are. You are rude thoughtless little pigs, okay. Especially Jamarcus. He’s very piggy.”

The draft is finally here this week. Hey, nice job making us wait two months longer than is necessary, NFL! I really wanted to wait week after agonizing week until the draft finally showed up on what will inevitably be the nicest day of spring. Asses. This week, we’ll be asking notable celebrities from the world of TV, politics, and more to give us their thoughts on this year’s selection meeting. First up: “Iron Chef”’s Chairman Kaga.

Hmm… Jamarcus Russell…

If my memory serves, the Creole half-breeds of Louisiana have a saying for Jamarcus Russell: “Savor only the arm.” Russell is known for being fat and flabby, but if you eat just the upper arm and shoulder, trimming the fat and discarding the rest, you will find a tender, almost venison-like meat, that surprises the mouth with its rich, smoky flavor. Slice it thin, and a pristine carpaccio awaits to delight and tantalize you! So I say, “savor only the arm”!

(Bites into yellow bell pepper, smiles creepily)

Hmm… Joe Thomas…

If my memory serves, morbidly obese Wisconsinites have a saying for Joe Thomas: “Look below the folds”. Below the folds of Thomas’ upper body lies a sweet nugget of penis tenderloin, plus the testicles, prized by the nutmongers of Northern Japan, who serve it in a clear bento broth with stewed bok choy. If you like offal, you’ll love these balls. But only in you… “look below the folds!”

(Grabs cape, turns dramatically)

Hmm… Gaines Adams…

If my memory serves, people of South Carolina have a saying about Gaines Adams (people of South Carolina love sayings, because they cannot read), which is… “the blacker the berry, the sweeter the juice”. Indeed, the blood of Adams is highly prized by South Carolinians as both a delicacy and a healing elixir that cures ailments ranging from dementia to toenail fungus. Indeed, “the blacker the berry, the sweeter the juice”! Ha ha ha ha!!!!!

(Summons a large table that rises up from the floor, takes off the table covering, revealing a naked Marshawn Lynch)

Ahh… Marshawn Lynch…

If my memory serves, the organic farmers of Northern California have a saying for Marshawn Lynch, which is, “Go by the dreads”. Dreadlocks are a signal of moister flesh, which offers you passage to the elusive fifth “umami” flavor. Lynch is often served spread over toast points with a spicy Pinot Noir. It’s a transcendant experience, but only if you “go by the dreads”!

(stretches out arms, turns palms upward)

ALLA CUISINE!!!!!