(more…)

There’s always a towering superstructure of fail to rummage through on any given gameday, but this Garo Yepremian-like fumble throw from Brady Quinn was a clear standout on this Sunday, at least until the Bears took the field, started running fake punts up the middle on 4th and 11 (only to challenge them), and generally having a pickerceptionkkake with a side entree of sulk.

The winners, however, they can’t help but exude a certain bravado (unless it’s Eli). Take Aaron Rodgers. Statistically, he didn’t have a particularly amazing game. But he whiped out Ken’s shoryuken after his winning TD pass to Greg Jennings. That’s enough to make you think to yourself that he deserved it all along.

Even if he was being rooted on by these mutants.

[Thanks to reader Rafael for the Rodgers gif]

(more…)

Christmas is a rotting cancer of the anus. And Santa Claus is nothing more than an Indian giver, who bestows the lemmings of the masses with material goods in exchange for a piece of their rotten, festering souls. His costume is red for a reason, for it is stained with the blood of innocent children who toil in his “workshop”. Ha. Workshop. The children of Polynesia are paid in nothing but sodomy. Here “comes” Santa Claus, indeed.

YOU are responsible for this. YOU are to blame for this yearly “tradition” of scavenging for goods, while others are left to drown in their own liquified feces. Your Christmas tree is a symbol of hate. Why must we continually violate Mother Earth’s withering uterus just so we can our houses can be “festive”? This is not a festive time of year. This is the time of year when the bloated, pus-feeding tapeworm that is mankind feasts upon itself. This is an unholiday. AN UNHOLY DAY.

You are the reason a man on the subway will choke to death on a cockroach’s babies tonight.

All in the name of Jesus. Jesus thinks you are a perversion. When I think of all the children that have been slaughtered in His glory… try putting a bow on THAT. Jesus is a landfill of death and smashed baby corpses. And God is an abortion. An oozing fetus splashed onto a cracked headstone, its placenta filled with oil and green blood. Conceived with the black ejaculate of the Undead Serpent.

I denounce your so-called Christmas and its 2,000 year reign of terror. My Druid friends and I laugh at your pathetic ritual. You know nothing of what Dagda really wants from us. You will die as you were born into this world: a seething pile of hate, bile spilling out of every orifice. And the world will end sooner than you think. And it shall not be rapturous at all. It will be painful, an orgy of bloodletting that spares no one. Except for Robert Pattinson and Kristen Stewart. They alone are virtuous, and see this world for what is really is: SHIT.

This is what happens, Mother, when you don’t get me that rune necklace I asked for. NOW DO YOU SEE?

Also, we’re way better than 5-10. That record alone is proof that God is a sadist, who delights in flaying my back with his six-headed flaming penis of anger.

MERRY CHRISTMAS, EVERYONE!

Bears. Packers. These teams have met a few times. Perhaps Bobby Wade can spare you the three hours by letting you know what will happen.

Okay, everyone! Gameday has finally arrived! Oh, thank goodness. Now, I know there’s been an awful lot of drama around here lately. But that’s all in the past now. I’m glad we can finally put that whole controversy to rest. It’s time to turn the page and get ready for a whole new era! Am I right? So let’s go out there and give that Lambeau crowd a chance to see a brand new kind of winning Packer football! Are you excited? I’m excited! I waited a long time to be drafted, and I waited a long time to start. But finally, it’s my time. It’s OUR time! LET’S GET FIRED UP! WAHOO! YAY! ALL RIGHT! WHO’S WITH ME?! YEAH!

(gets sacked)

Hey, that’s all right. No problem there. Better to take the sack than throw a foolish pass, am I right? That’s how it’s gonna be here. No flash. Just smart football. I think all of you are getting an idea of the steady kind of leadership I’m here to provide! Now let’s get back out there, team!

(gets sacked again)

Again, not a problem. Just taking care of the ball and managing the game. I think, as time goes by, everyone here is going to come to appreciate my savviness!

(locks in on one receiver, gets sacked again)

Boy, you know I think you guys blocked a little harder last year.

(gets pass tipped and intercepted)

Okay! That’s okay! Not a problem. Nothing I could do about that. Not going to worry about the things I can’t control… just gonna stay strong mentally and play within myself…

(throws 8-yard completion without any sort of bravado or derring-do)

See! There it is! A good, solid completion. Keeping the ball moving, not trying to do too much out there. Isn’t that great? That should really please these fans out here tonight!

Oh, god dammit. The fuck is wrong with you people?

No! No, Aaron! Stay strong! Don’t let it all get to you. Keep your composure. Don’t get rattled. Poise! Must stay poised! Can’t… let it… get… to… me…

GAHHHHHH!!!!!

(runs to locker room)

(runs back out)

The world is a festering pile of molten spider excrement. And its people are clones, ghoulish clones of death whose only mission is to suck each other dry, and then to ejaculate their hate babies upon piles of twisted, mangled flesh and broken bones. There is no sun. There is no day. There is only night – a long, dark night of savage bloodletting. In a world of hopeless decay and indifference. Left to its own shadowy fate.

I shall not participate in its hypocrisy.

And lies.

LIES LIES LIES LIES.

I have written a poem, a poem that shall put the pus-thirsty masses in their place. And I shall read it to you aloud, so that everyone might here and suffer the truth of their own blindness.

God is an afterbirth,
A rotting placenta that sucks away rather than nourishes.
And his love is not love but pain.
He delights only in seeing the maggot-infested carcasses of lovers
Ground up by the hate machine
And shat out upon the dying lands.
Pain is God
Here is your tribute, your worship

(spits on ground)

Ha.

Live with that, people of Green Bay. The Aaron Rodgers you once knew is dead, and YOU are the murderers. MURDERERS! That cheese on your head had turned bleu and marbled. I shall not be one of your lab mice. You are all bathing in the black amniotic fluid of ignorance.

I will enjoy watching the world die.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, me and my Twihard friends are going to go egg Stephanie Meyer’s house for the way she mishandled Bella and Edward’s romance at the end of “Breaking Dawn”.