I always write the introduction to the mailbag last. Sometimes it’s good, because it allows me to introduce some of the overarching themes of the week in a meaningful way. Sometimes it’s bad, because I spend all day juggling sex questions and TV news and then I’m too tired to write anything besides, “Here are the questions!”

Today, I offer an apology. Four of the five submissions today seemed specifically crafted to push my buttons, and I kinda lost my patience and snapped a little bit. So, to the people who were so kind as to write in with problems they genuinely sought advice for: I’m sorry. I can get a little mean sometimes. It doesn’t mean I don’t love you, baby. Come back next week and I’ll make it all better. I promise to be nicer in the future. *drinks whiskey*

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With the lockout remaining in effect for the time being more and more teams have been organizing player only workouts. While some players don’t see much of a point to the exercise, more and more players are embracing the activity. For starters, it’s a great way to generate positive press, especially when compared to the alternative.

At the very least it seems like a good way to improve camaraderie and achieve some sort of off-season normalcy. But what is actually going on at these gatherings? Are they running through regular off-season drills or getting together to toss the ball around like regular old Turkey Bowlers?

Continue after the jump for an exclusive look at the schedule for the Giants team mini-camp hosted by none other than Eli Manning.
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One day last week Vinny Cerrato set aside a couple of hours to go on the Mike Wise Show and attempt to explain some things about his tenure with the Redskins. He said some ridiculous things, blamed others for the organizations failures, and agreed to disagree with fans who called in to tell him that he’s incompetent. Fun stuff, no doubt, but not quite enough to satisfy our lust for Vinny blood. That’s why Wise did his due diligence and trekked out to Cerrato’s new palace in the hinterlands outside of Baltimore for a follow-up column.

The finished product is pure magic, so do yourself a favor and read the whole thing. You will laugh, you will be frustrated, but most of all, you will be amazed at this man’s alarming wrongheadedness.

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As you certainly saw on Sunday, this Super Bowl ad took classic TV shows and refashioned the characters as NFL fans. What you may have missed is that the lone Seahawks fan was none other than Ralph Wiggum:

Jon Axell writes:

New York and New England are where a lot of TV shows take place, so of course they’re fans of the Jets, Giants, Bills, and Patriots. And, of course, the teams playing in the actual game got featured using shows that take place in their home states (Happy Days and The Office).

The Falcons got a great shot of the General Lee flying their flag, jumping over a river. The Cowboys are Newman to the rest of the league’s Seinfeld.

But nothing stirs up more intrigue to a generation obsessed with placing themselves in fictional worlds (“Quiz: which Harry Potter house are you?” “Which classic Nicktoon are you?” “Which Star Wars character are you?”) than this gathering of Simpsons characters.

And there, front and center, munching on a candy bar, is Ralph Wiggum, the only representative for your Seattle Seahawks.

Still bitter about that 7-9 playoff berth, eh NFL?

It could have been worse. Frasier and Niles Crane in Seahawks gear would’ve been traumatic, and I just twitched thinking about Meredith Grey in a 12th Man jersey.

Okay, journalism students, let’s try a quick exercise. 34 more NFL players have been placed on injured reserve through 10 weeks this season compared to the same period last year. This has happened in the context of the league and the players union being at a standoff over the idea to expand the regular season to 18 games. I want ledes and I want ‘em punchy. Bring the reader into the story.

FOXSports.com senior NFL writer Alex Marvez! I don’t know what you’re doing in a rudimentary journalism class, but let’s see what you’ve got.

Roger Goodell’s heart is in the right place.

Unfortunately, too many body parts of NFL players aren’t.

Whoa, watch it, folks! Word wizard comin’ through. He’s magically transported me to Elysian Fields of lush imagery where random appendages belonging to Leonard Weaver, DeMeco Ryans and Aaron Kampman are scattered about.

Notice how each sentence is its own self-contained paragraph, so as to draw extra attention to the virtuosic wordsmithery on display. That’s great hack hustle! I will say it’s a shame there are no NFL players with the last name McGreg. I’ll just have to settle for a horrible Kelly Gregg injury instead.

With Unsilent Majority off in Aruba on his honeymoon, I’m filling in for ABC duties this week. I only gamble on the NFL when I’m in Las Vegas, and I constantly get confused about whether the plus and minus signs mean “giving” or “getting” points, so it’s in your best interest not to put any money on my picks — I’m certainly not.

Anyway, before we get to the picks I just wanted to point to a section of the 2000 New Yorker profile on “Simpsons” writer George Meyer that Drew re-circulated on Twitter this morning:

Meyer’s interest in professional football is strictly pragmatic: unlike most vegetarian, yoga-practicing, Deadhead collectors of space-program memorabilia, he is a studious and enthusiastic gambler. He spent many hours at the dog track when we were in college, and during a period in the early eighties when he lived in New York, his single sartorial flourish was a three-piece suit, which he wore on days when there was a heavyweight title fight. He is well acquainted with the short flight from Los Angeles to Las Vegas.

So, comedic geniuses CAN be good gamblers. You just won’t find either one here.

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DEAL WITH IT.

Holy cow, what a crazy week for the NFL — and already a wild year for fantasy football. Randy Moss to Minnesota, Brett Favre’s penis (allegedly!), Marshawn Lynch to the Seahawks, white running backs everywhere, Christopher Ivory (who’s black) and Ladell Betts in the Saints backfield, someone named Max Hall starting at quarterback for the Cardinals this Sunday, and the Chiefs at 3-0 are the only undefeated team in the NFL. There’s barely enough time to think about sex.

Except there’s ALWAYS enough time to think about sex. Thanks to everyone who sent in such concise questions this week, and apologies to those who didn’t make the cut — even with the short questions, we’re still clocking in at about 5,500 words. Woooo-wee! And not a friend zone question in sight! Don’t get used to it or this mailbag’s gonna make you spoiled.

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Today is September 15th. Not a huge deal for most people, but for us freelancers — “independent contractors” — it means it’s time to pay quarterly taxes. Unlike many people, I’m happy to pay taxes. Sure, I’m aware that some of my money goes to pork-barrel politics, but it also pays the salaries of cops, firefighters, teachers, and people in the armed services. It probably makes me sound like a crazy liberal, but I think public school teachers deserve to be paid a living wage.

That said, paying quarterly taxes is like getting kicked in the junk four times a year instead of getting kicked in the junk REALLY HARD once a year. Honestly, if I had a choice between “get raped violently” or “get raped four times, but not as bad,” I’d go with the former. But that’s just me. I’m not a huge fan of rape.

Anyway, on to the Meast and Least…

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Good God, people. I make a simple plea for you to donate money on behalf of wounded veterans and cancer research, set an absurdly high bar of $10,000 as the goal, and you STILL grossly exceeded my wildest hopes, raising an obscene $15,400+ (and counting) for my Fight Gone Bad effort. I’m not quite sure why people kept donating even after all of our arbitrary goals were reached, but we at KSK are humbled by your generosity, and we promise to do absolutely nothing of spiritual value for another 51 weeks.

Due to your selfless charity, I have hired a for-real professional video editor to document September 25th’s Fight Gone Bad workout, for which I will shave my head and wear rainbow snakeskin short-shorts. I’ll even contact Suzi Fox when I order the shorts and see if she can make me a rainbow snakeskin headband. And then I will never appear in public ever again.

Anyway, today’s prize-winning donor is Gaurav C., a longtime reader and commenter. Congratulations and thank you; you win comic books and free booze. Also, to anyone and everyone who donated $150 or more: email me to set up a time to collect your two drinks from my bar and four books from my library. If you live far away from New York City, then you’re still welcome if you ever come to the Windy Apple for a visit. All other prize winners: I haven’t had the chance to go to the post office this week, but I will go there tomorrow to mail your swag.

NOTE: This ends the KSK Kares Kharity Drive, but you can still donate to my FGB page up until September 25th.