Michael Jackson. Ed McMahon. Billy Mays. Farrah Fawcett. David Carradine. Steve McNair. Arturo Gatti. Oscar Mayer. A lot of celebrities have passed away recently, some under bizarre circumstances. We didn’t know what to make of all this, so we asked our weekly in-season analyst, God, to come in and help explain why so many stars are dying.
To stave off the specter of boredom or maybe just to sublimate our own latent rapey urges, the Gay Mafia occasionally engages in hour-long sessions of e-mail-based rape joke bandying. Really works out the dark urges. Yesterday, in what began innocently enough as a discussion of which reader has creeped us out the most at various blogger meet-ups then quickly morphed into a whirlwind brainstorm of how rapists would alter popular board games. Because we’re sick deviants like that. And, being so, we enjoy passing our pathology onto you, the reader. Preferably against your will.
**No rapist’s game shelf would be complete without handcuffs, And, of course, the game of Battlerape!
“You sunk my Rapesub!”
And now there’s Electronic Battlerape! With sound effects!
“D-Rectum? It’s a hit!”
“Beware the submarine — long, hard, etc.”
**A rapist sets up a spy cam in the dressing rooms in Mall Madness.
**They always like a good game of Connect Four Toddlers.
**Rapists naturally love Rape-opoly. Sample Chance card:
“You win first prize in a beauty contest. And then are raped.”
**Every time he captures a country in Risk, he rapes you using methods specific to that nation.
**Rapists love Twister. RIGHT FOOT LEFT LABIA
**Rapists claim Parcheesi is Hindi for “forced entry.”
**When playing Trivial Pursuit, a rapist goes right for the pink triangle.
**Only a rapist will call his scrotum the “Popomatic bubble”
**I’ve found that many rapists love a good game of Chutes and More Chutes.
**Candyland is the #1 game played in their windowless vans.
**Rapists are hard at work developing a new version of Mouse Trap, complete with a cage capable of subduing even the lithest tween.
**rapists adore a good game of TABOO. Guess the word without saying these five clue words!
crime
penetration
violation
bruising
rope
**A rapist will always choose rapist as their profession when playing The Game of Life. Then they rape all the pink and blue stick figures. Then the spin wheel.
**A rapist was the first and last champion of “Win Ben Stein’s Skin and Internal Organs.”
**A classic among rapists: Guess Who…Is Sneaking In Your Bedroom At Night
**Kerplunk is the noise it makes when he takes his dick out of your ass.
**They play Sorry! with kids only AFTER raping them
**Yahtzee is what a rapist screams when he rapes an ESPN anchor
**Rapists win every game of Scene It?: Rape Edition
**Rapists write letters to the makers of Operation demanding they supply them with the missing Penis Bone.
**The rapist version of Jeopardy! The Home Game! has nothing to do with the TV show.
**A rapist loves playing Clue, but it’s the same result every time. Col. Mustard, in the ass, with the candlestick.
**The rapist version of Chinese Checkers involves a confused 12-year-old and some anal beads
**Don’t challenge a rapist in Horny Horny Rapists. He always get more balls.
Hello, my children. How joyous this day when it has been revealed that I’ve given you a new presidential messiah. And you fools thought he was a secret Muslim. Nope. God went and got freaky with a black chick and he had Him a second son. Wasn’t the first either. That’s right. Jesus had Aretha Franklin at his inauguration too. So enjoy.
To Warner and Roethlisberger, I am not yet ready to disclose which of you will take home your second Super Bowl title and which I will consign to bitter, Meforsaken defeat. But know this: to whomever I go with, the checklist of thank-yous just got longer. Postgame, you thank, in order: Me, then Jesus, then Obama. I will not have my sons spurned! You fucked up last time Ben, and I gave you an asphalt facial. This time it gets updated to magma.
You know, I initially was going to make it so the Ravens made it to the grandest stage (other than personal one I got up here with all the nekkid dancers) so I could hear Ray Lewis and Kurt battle to namecheck Me the most during pregame, but that Joe Flacco makes it so obvious that he’s going to throw it Derrick Mason that even my divine powers could not stop defensive backs from intercepting his telegraphed passes. I only help those who help themselves. AND BOTHER TO TRIM THEIR ME-DAMNED UNIBROW! CLEANLINESS IS NEXT TO ME-LINESS!
I allowed the Cardinals to win even though their fans are wayward in faith and burn shit into the opposing quarterback’s lawn, because, well, did you really think I was going to give Philadelphia two major sports titles in one human lifetime? Not fucking likely.
Go in peace my children. Actually don’t. Be violent. I need something to entertain me during this pointless week off before the Bowl.
Many people scoff at the idea that God can control the outcome of sporting events, or that He even cares. But those people are wrong. God does control the games, AND He cares a great deal. Today, He explains why He let the outcomes of Round 1 of the NFL playoffs happen as they did.
Before I get to this week’s games, I want to address the issue of Kurt Warner trying to draw Me…
Excuse me, Kurt. Would you mind if I go just right ahead and direct you to the Second Commandment. You know, the one I wrote…
Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image, or any likeness of any thing that is in heaven above…
See that “heaven above” language right there? That me means Me. I’m from heaven. I built the damn place. YOU DON’T FUCKING DRAW ME, MOTHERFUCKER! I WILL NOW GIVE YOUR FUCKING FAMILY CANCER!
/gives family cancer
These fucking people… they claim to live by Me, and then they go and just doodle Me (badly, I might add), as if it’s nothing. As if they aren’t VIOLATING ONE OF THE MOST FUNDAMENTAL TENETS OF MY HEAVENLY LAW. JESUS FUCKING CHRIST.
I don’t like it when people try to draw Me. They never get it right. They always fuck up the nose. I have a good nose. I don’t have one of those fucked up Owen Wilson noses. Besides, I can take on many various forms. Sometimes I look like a human being. Other times, I like to turn myself into fine mist and then sneak into ladies’ bedrooms when they’re fingering the honeypot. That’s some solid misting, right there.
Other times, I like to take the form of a cloud. Why? NONE OF YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS, THAT‘S WHY. I also enjoy taking the form of a very bright white light. That’s a classic one. And at night? That’s wolfie time.
Didn’t think God was a lycanthrope, did you? Well, I am. Sometimes, I like to turn into a wolf. Then I run into the forest, find a six-point buck, and then rip its throat right out. BAM! NATURAL SELECTION THERE, BUCKY! MY SELECTION! YOU GOT SERVED.
You know who it’s fun to turn into from time to time? Dylan McDermott. You should see the looks I get on the street when I turn into that guy. I bet he’s just drowning in pussy. Good stuff.
Anyway, it bears repeating, DON’T DRAW ME. And since you, Kurt Warner, have crossed Me once more, I assure you Deangelo Williams and the Panthers will tear you a new Godhole come Saturday night. Fuckhead. Enjoy the loss. And the cancer.
Last week, I allowed the Ravens to beat the Dolphins because the city of Miami is a den of sin and sodomy. Sometimes I turn on the Godscope and point it a Miami, and I swear I have no clue what I’m looking at. Are those three Cuban men fucking in that alleyway? Four? Why is there a Chihuahua there? Why are they smearing bananas on each other? Yuck. Not cool.
I also allowed the Chargers to beat the Colts. A lot of people might think I like Tony Dungy, since he worships Me and all. Well, to be frank, I think he’s stealing a bit of My thunder. I get it, people. Tony Dungy is a swell guy. But you don’t praise him. You praise ME. STOP STEALING MY THUNDER, TONY DUNGY! ONLY I KNOW HOW TO MAKE IT!
As for the Vikings… FUCK THEM. THEY’LL NEVER WIN A TITLE IN A MILLION YEARS AS LONG AS A SHADY JEW OWNS THEM! I DECLARE IT SO!
Tomorrow marks the fifth anniversary of the Namath-Kolber incident, otherwise known as the namesake for this fine Interblog dickjokeacoppia we run here. Let us all get in the Matron Saint’s Day spirit by drunkenly hitting on people in horrendously inappropriate and possibly scandalous ways, which should be a huge departure from how readers of this site typically act.
Despite being described by some as “thick in the britches,” the Matron Saint is seldom given her due as an objet du sexy. Blasphemy, if you ask us. Therefore, in observation of this most holy day on the KSK calendar, we offer some sexified images of other holy women in her honor.
Many people scoff at the idea that God can control the outcome of sporting events, or that He even cares. But those people are wrong. God does control the games, AND He cares a great deal. Today, He explains why He let the outcomes of Week 8 in the NFL happen as they did.
Ladies and gentlemen of the internet, I regret to inform you that God could not be with us this week. Actually that’s not correct. Of course He could be with us, I mean, He is God after all. I guess it would be more accurate to say God had better shit to do this week. Mostly he’s just been masturbating. Yep, that’s right, God masturbates. He masturbates just like you do, only he’s way better at it than you could ever imagine. You know how God’s voice makes your head explode? Well if you saw God stroking it your balls would melt and run down your leg forming a puddle at your feet. But I digress.
Joining us in His stead this week is none other than His Son of Sons, Jesus “Hominum Salvator” Christ!
Many people scoff at the idea that God can control the outcome of sporting events, or that He even cares. But those people are wrong. God does control the games, AND He cares a great deal. Today, He explains why He let the outcomes of Week 7 in the NFL happen as they did.
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Many people scoff at the idea that God can control the outcome of sporting events, or that He even cares. But those people are wrong. God does control the games, AND He cares a great deal. Today, He explains why He let the outcomes of Week 6 in the NFL happen as they did.
Many people scoff at the idea that God can control the outcome of sporting events, or that He even cares. But those people are wrong. God does control the games, AND He cares a great deal. Today, He explains why He let the outcomes of Week 4 in the NFL happen as they did.
First of all, happy new year to all of my chosen people out there! Except for that one fucking yid. You know, the blowhard asshole on ESPN who is always making up crappy nicknames. Oh come on, you know the guy I’m talking about. Big fat lump of shit that’s always laughing at his own jokes, even though his shtick got old around the time those no good fuckers started penning that “new” testament. Me damn it, what the fuck is that asshole’s name?
Anyway, let’s move on to the other stories I’ve helped influence over the past week after the jump. Why the jump? BECAUSE IT IS MY WILL!
