When we last left basic amazing columnist Peter King, he analyzed Bill Belichick’s decision to go for it on 4th and 2, which totally reminded me of this ONE TIME THE FACKIN’ RED SAWX AWLSO DID SOMETHING VERY SIMILAHHHHH AND I ANALYZED IT AS WELL!

So it’s time to break down King Gordo’s most recent batch of Illy-infused drivel, but FIRST. Another email from Daniel Steele! Yes, that’s right. Remember Daniel? He demanded we make Tom Brady Meast of the Week that one time, and used all sorts of fancy (and wrong) records to back up his choice. Well, Daniel’s back for more punishment. He has a new Meast of the week in mind, and you’ll never guess who. All spelling errors from this email (and there are many) are sic:

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When we last left professional groin watcher Peter King, he was growing up before our very eyes, stomping all over poor Taylor Swift’s red dress with his size 14 circus feet, and finding himself entranced by Peyton Manning’s words. Oh, Peyton Manning’s words and stories. I could spend weeks in your semi-sirenesque thrall.

So what about this week? What does Peter have to say about Belichick’s 4th down call in the great city of Manning? Did Peter JUST discover the thrilling sounds of the Postal Service? Will we ever see Philip Rivers squint? Read on. BUT FIRST… a letter. This letter has nothing to do with Peter King. And it was submitted for tomorrow’s Deadspin mailbag. But I want to make fun of it NOW, because I’m a dick.

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When we last left noted football learner Peter King, he was eagerly discussing the constant, bulbous throbbing of Brett Favre’s groin. Could that groin injury do Favre in, right in the middle of such a great season? I don’t know. If you touch Favre’s throbbing groin, does a magic baby pop out and grant you wishes? I don’t know. Does the groin smell like rosemary, and lavender, and does its sweat give you healing powers? MAYBE.

Anyway… time for this week’s batch of esoteric, gum poppin’ fun with Peter King. I HOPE YOU FOOTBALL LEARNERS OUT THERE ARE READY FOR SOME SEMI-LEBRONESQUE LEARNING LESSONS.

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We get a lot of requests every week to do FJM-style breakdowns of Bill Simmons’ columns. We largely avoid this because A) Peter King is more fun to poke fun at, B) It takes about seven seconds before Simmons trolls pop into the post and tell you what a HATURRRRRR you are, C) We have Tommy from Quinzee around to serve as proxy for all our Simmons mocking.

So usually we resist. But Holy God, did you SEE this column? Sweet buttermilk titties, it’s terrible. It’s awful. It’s the smuggest smug that’s ever smugged. And it deserves your unbridled scorn in full. Let’s begin…

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When we last left championship cake baker Peter King, he was 20 minutes late to a live chat over at Deadspin, then proved a rather good sport with most of the questions. I’d like to congratulate Big Jim Slade for asking Peter how the Bowers were doing. Peter’s response was a simple, “Fine.” It’s the little things.

Someone also asked Peter if the criticism he gets online bothers him, to which Peter replied that it comes with the territory. He doesn’t like it when it goes too far, but he accepts it. Well, thank God for that. NOW I CAN MAKE FUN OF THAT DOUCHEHAT WITHOUT IT WEIGHING ON MY CONSCIENCE ONE BIT! WOO HOO!

So what about this week? Will it be another Steelers Sunday for Peter? Will he and Bob Costas rattle a cage or two? Will he show up in my Junior Jumble? Read on, people…

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When we last left map-eschewing porkquistador Peter King, he was decrying the price of Yankee Stadium’s hot chocolate (it’s 30% cacao!), praising the Saints for their edgy attitude, and deeply regretting ordering the Kung Pao cheeseburger spring rolls at Panda Express in the JFK airport.

What about this week? Will he ever find the Providence airport? Will it be another ho hum week for Wes Welker, ONLY THE FINEST WIDE RECEIVER EVER TO GRACE A FOOTBALL FIELD? And how did the Caldwellmen do? Join me, a day late, as we dive into the nether regions of one man’s very thin soul…

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When we last left throwback-loving douchebox Peter King, he was declaring Kyle Orton the next Tom Brady, marveling at the friendliness of Sun Country Airways, and getting into a Twitter throwdown with Mark Cuban, which marks the single most inconsequential dispute in recorded history.

But what about this week? Will Peter again be forced to down can after can of Illy? Will he be hit by any cinderblock walls? Will Kathy Holmgren be a bitch and not let him watch any football? Read on. But I must warn you: there is a section on hot cocoa prices here that will leave you STUNNED AND OUTRAGED.

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When we last left name-dropping thought football enthusiast Peter King, he was making a stupid amount of money, resisting the temptation to have a slumber party at various players’ houses, and marveling at barren moonscape that is Eastern Connecticut thru his Acela cabin window.

So, what can we expect from our lofty companion this week? Did he get swine flu? No? Could he get swine flu? Is there a way to capture swine flu in a syringe and inject directly into him? No? Are we sure about this?

Just asking.

Let’s dig in…

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Yesterday Drew wrote a particularly satisfying rant on the topic of Dan Snyder’s inability to run a football team. While I didn’t agree with all of Drew’s points, most of his criticisms hit home for me and many other distressed Washingtonians. Of course not every Redskins fan agreed with Drew’s contentions.

Chris Chase is a writer for Yahoo! Sports who also maintains his own blog, The Player Hater’s Ball. It was there that Chase wrote his response to Drew’s rant. The post includes several questionable defenses of his personnel and front office decisions. So questionable that I felt some FJM style was warranted.

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We had about seventy million readers email this week us to say, “Oy. You gotta read this douchey interview Peter King did with the Wall Street Journal. It’s very douchey.” And so I did. And indeed, douchiness abounds. Surely, King had a Heineken Light or six before answering the questions. Let’s dive in and get all snarky with it, shall we? IT’S YOUR BONUS FUN WITH PETER KING, GANG.

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