BAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! All you fackin’ Paytree-ut hatahs out they-ah now must face the facts. THE FACKIN’ PAYTREE-UTS ARE FACKIN’ 19-0!!! HAHAHAHAHA!! And for that, I have only one thing to say…

YANKEES SUCK! YANKEES SUCK! YANKEES SUCK! YANKEES SUCK! YANKEES SUCK! YANKEES SUCK! YANKEES SUCK! YANKEES SUCK! YANKEES SUCK!

You fuckin’ Yankee faggots always think you’re the best. Well, you know what? THE FACKIN’ PATS WENT UNDEFEATED! Did the Yankees ever do that? HA! I can’t wait to call my buddy Fred, a diehahd Yankee fan. I can’t wait to see the look on his face when he realizes the PATS are the fackin’ greatest TEAM evah! I can’t wait to get a fackin’ UNDEFEATED Sawx jersey. Can you imagine how confident the crowd at Fenway will be now? Take that, Yankees! THIS IS FOR FACKIN’ CLAIMIN’ CLEMENS AS YOUR OWN!

Now that the Patriots are 19-0, it’s clear that the Yankees are just a second tier franchise. Fackin’ Hank Steinbrenner, you really think you have the class of Bawb Kraft? FACK YOU! WHY DON’T YOU GO SPOON FEED STRAINED PEAS TO YOUR OLD MAN, SHITBAWX! Hey Hank, I hear your old man just wanders around his house with his bathrobe open and his cawk out, and that he tawks to his hairbrush. WHAT A FACKIN’ LOSAH!!!!

Face it, Yankee fans: The Paytree-uts are now the fackin’ greatest team in history, and they always will be! And you know what that means, you fackin’ Bawston hatahs? That means that your team will nevah, EVAH, be as good as the Pats. Even if your team wins the Super Bowl next year (which I highly doubt because both Tawmmy Brady and the fackin’ smahtest man in the universe Billy Belichick, who my fackin’ fifth cousin once sat near at a Legal Seafoods back in 2003), your team’s championship won’t mean FACKIN’ JACK SHIT!

Suck on that! That’s right. No mattah what you fackin’ do, your team’s success will nevah be as meaningful or as important as ours. You’re just fillin’ out the fackin’ almanac, 2036 Titans! We all know the fackin’ 2007 Pats would fackin’ slap you and your robot players around like I slap around the dirty Sikh who runs the packy store down the blawk. $5.99 far a fackin’ pack of Pahluhmunts? Fack you, ya fackin’ sitar-playin’ fack! DRIVE MY FACKIN’ FAMILY TO LOGAN!

Do you know what makes this Pats victory so fackin’ special? The fact that WE, the fackin’ Red Sawx Nation, took the fackin’ team on our shouldahs. WE FACKIN’ ALL SHARE IN THIS TRIUMPH TOGETHAH! That’s why I’m goin’ all fackin’ out to make sure everyone knows that I, Tommy fackin’ O’Leary, will always be paht of the fackin’ Pats’ JUGGUHNUT!

I’m gonna get a 19-0 shirt. I’m gonna shave 19-0 into my dog’s ass. I’m gettin’ a 19-0 decal on my fackin’ F150. And I’m gonna tattoo UNDEFEATED right on my cawk! I’m gonna use my trust fund money to make my folks redesign their house so it’s in the shape of 19-0. AND EVERY FACKIN’ YEAR UNTIL I DIE, I‘M GONNA DRINK A GALLON OF BOONE’S WHEN THE LAST UNBEATEN TEAM LOSES! AND I’M GONNA TEACH MY ILLEGITIMATE GRANDKIDS TO DO THE SAME!

Fack you, Dolphins! That tradition is ours now! You think you can have traditions? ONLY FACKIN’ BAWSTON CAN HAVE TRADITIONS! We’re the birthplace of tradition, you facks. Stop cawpyin’ us!

And to all you elitist facks who said the Pats cheated, I have only this to say: THAT FACKIN’ FAGOOT A-ROD TRIED SLAPPIN’ THE BAWL OUTTA MILLAHHHHH’S GLOVE IN THE ALCS! The fackin’ Yanks and their slapdick media buddies try to cheat and disrespect Beantown all the fackin’ time! So consider this payback, A-Rod, you fackin’ son of a housekeepah!

The Pats, like any great team, did what it took to dawminate. Even if that meant tracking the Giants’ every move with a discarded Russian spy satellite, or poisoning their team breakfast with ground-up Chinese tinker toys, or sending pizza and hookers to their hotel suites at 4AM last night. That just means they are true champions! They still won won feeehhhh and squeeeehhhh!

So soak it all in, Yankee fans. The Pats are the greatest team to ever play the game. Try and face down Jawsh fackin’ Beckett while you think about that! FACK YOU JETAH YOU FACKIN’ AWKTAROON!!!!

YANKEES SUCK! YANKEES SUCK! YANKEES SUCK!

Good to see you two towns get such needed press coverage. Why don’t you go to the gym and pump each other?

The wearied look of the fastidious.

Jaguars rookie safety Reggie Nelson, part of a defensive unit that allowed Tom Brady to complete an NFL record 92.9 percent of his passes Saturday night, dismissively remarked of Brady to reporters after the game, “He ain’t all that … He’s all right.”

What might strike some as smacking of bitterness after being ripped in historic fashion by the league’s MVP is actually in keeping with Nelson’s tendency of being difficult to impress. Here follows a sampling of some of the best of his blase.

“‘I Have a Dream’? Shit. That ain’t new. We ALL have dreams.”

“The Beatles? Meh. I guess Revolver was okay.”

“Water into wine??? What good is wine if the motherfucker ain’t going to make some cheese too?”

“3:10 to Yuma was good, if you’re into remakes. Which I’m not.”

“Why would I want indoor plumbing? The outhouse is holdin’ up fine.”

“Picasso? A genius? Please. Have you seen that Cubist crap? It’s the EXACT SAME THING as Braque!!!”

“Language? Pfft. Whatever. We was doing all right grunting and writing glyphs on the wall.”

“Why would I want to convert to Fiat? The gold standard is doing great!”

“Philip Rivers is a dickbag. But he’s no Dane Cook.”

“Jonas Salk? Pussy. I had polio once. I got my ass out of bed, caught three interceptions and banged a stewardess on the flight home.”

“If you ask me A Brief History of Time is an amusing work of harebrained conjecture but ultimately irrelevant.”

“Y’all think Amy Winehouse is having a fucked-up time? Shit. I call that ‘Tuesday Night.’”

“Sure, the Mariana Trench is deep. But I’ve met girls with deeper chatches.”

“Sir Edmund Hillary was great, yeah. He still died, though, didn’t he?”

“The Great Wall of China? What’s so great about it? ’s just one wall. You can just walk around it. Don’t protect you from the rain neither.”

[Shown picture of Adriana Lima]

(yawns) “Too old.”

“Why’s Fibonacci gotta have a whole sequence named after him? That’s greedy. I get by okay with just one number.”

“‘Birth of Venus’”? [makes jerk-off motion with hand]

“You liked No Country for Old Men? Get the fuck out. The ending was stupid!”

“Al-Qaeda? More like Shit Qaeda. They were, what, three of four on 9/11? Hell, Tom Brady had a better completion percentage on Saturday, and we already know he ain’t all that.”

“Yeah, the Burj Dubai is pretty tall, but I bet you can’t get good barbecue there.”

If you find yourself confronted with an NFL postseason without a rooting interest and unmoved by Don Cheadle soliloquies, you must draw from the well of that most powerful of human emotions. Okay, well, lust probably won’t do here. But the second most powerful, hate, will serve as a fine proxy. This is the first in a series of posts filled with bile, spleen, vitriol and all-around nastiness toward all the teams involved with the sordid roundelay we know as the NFL Playoffs.

AFC 5th Seed — Jacksonville Jaguars (11-5)

“Heinz Field is terrible. That’s a lawsuit pending” — Fred Taylor 1/1/08

Plaintiff’s attorney: On numerous occasions the conditions at Heinz Field have been found to be substandard, on others disastrously uninhabitable. My client asserts that the grounds have left him subject to permanent injury. What have you to stay to that?

Heinz Field: glug glug glug glug glug

Defense attorney: Objection! Point of fact: Did not Fred Taylor rush for 147 yards and a touchdown at Heinz Field not more than a month ago? And has Fred Taylor not been injured by the following things throughout his career: Popsicle stick houses, the blown seeds off a dandelion, dust mites, tall grass, fallen Jenga blocks, taking off his socks and tripping on the end of an escalator?

Plaintiff’s attorney: My client’s history of impairment is immaterial to the downright neglectful and irresponsible tending of Pittsburgh’s playing surface. What matters is that on any carry this weekend he could sustain a career-ending injury for no other reason than the field is a sloppy midden heap.

Defense attorney: I wish to call to the stand Hines Ward, a player who has competed on the surface without incident since the stadium opened in 2001.

Defense attorney: Hines, would you describe the turf at Heinz Field as substandard?

Hines Ward: Rrrraaaahhhhh. That so sally! Almost ridicurous! Seen many worst condition than that. Back home, each leceiver get sampan when go out on route.

Hines Ward: See? He wide open for super fantastic catch! I think Fled Tayrol is just lazy pampered Amerrrcan. He no know meaning of hard work.

I can smirrre now?

Plaintiff’s attorney: Very well. I have someone of my own who I would like to call to the stand: Troy Polamalu, who has played his entire career with Heinz Field as a home stadium, has been dogged by knee injuries this season, most likely caused by the shoddy playing surface at Heinz. Troy…

Polamalu: (speaking softly, inaudibly)

Plaintiff’s attorney: You’re gonna need to speak up, Troy.

Polamalu: Help, sinky sand!

You fackin’ Paytree-ut haters out there thought we couldn’t go 16-0. But we Pats fans nevuh had any doubt. And there is no doubt as to who will be victorious in Arizonuh five weeks from now. I haven’t felt this confident of anything since I passed around my petition to have that Persian family kicked out of my neighborhood. NO FACKIN’ MAGIC CARPET RIDIN’, LAMP-RUBBIN’ CAMEL JOCKEY FAMILY BELONGS IN FACKIN’ QUINZEE, MASS! AM I RIGHT, PEOPLE?!

You know what really fackin’ pisses me off? The gawddamn Paytree-uts go 16-0, and those fackin’ shitbawxes in the media still don’t give them any fackin’ respect! It’s a fackin’ joke. Like these Wild Caaaaad teams. Why are they paying attention to these Wild Caaaaaaaad teams? None of them stand a chance AGAINST THE FACKIN’ PATS JUGGUHNUT! Fack that. The Paytree-uts would facking kick the shit out of them like I kick the shit out of my dog, Beasley. He’s a good dog. But when he barks, I gawtta give him a taste of my Lugz, you know what I’m sayin’?

And you, Miami Dolphins! You too can hang on my ballsack. Fackin’ Dawn Shoola. You old piece of shit. Why don’t you go play some fackin’ backgammon and drink some fackin’ Sunsweet prune juice, you fackin’ pantshittuh! You too, Mercury Morris. Why don’t you go snort some cocaine and drive your car into a telephone pole, you stupid daaaaaa-kie! Ha! Black people are so dumb.

(drinks lighter fluid)

Oh my God! Is that G-Love and Special Sauce? Fitz, turn that shit up! This shit fackin’ rawks!

My baby’s got sawce!

This whole hatred of the Pats comes from simple jealousy. You fackin’ Pats hatuhs out there are just jealous of our incredible success. You’re jealous of Tommy Brady’s good looks, and Bill Belichick’s superior intellectualness. But you are also jealous of Boston as a whole. You are jealous of our fine schools, like Hahvuhd, and M-eye-tee, and South Quinzee Gun Repair And Event Planning Correspondence Institute, which I attend. You’re jealous of the Red Sox. And the Celts. And the fact that we legalized gay marriages specifically so that we could jump faggots coming out of da church and give them the fishhook.

And you’re jealous of the guns. Admit it. They look fackin’ great. My girl Tina likes it when I do the military press with my shirt off, and I can’t blame her. Right, honey?

Nice, huh? I just got her to go from smoking 5 packs of Pahluhmint a day to 4 and a half. It only took five weeks of slappin’ her around and calling her a fat, smelly piece of dogshit to get it done. You fackin’ fatass Pittsburgh fans have that kind of discipline? I think not.

So keep on hatin’ us, you piece of shit fans of other piece of shit NFL teams. Me and all my buddies from Quinzee feed off of that shit. It only makes us stronger. And, as you can see, I am quite strong already. My boss says I have a real few-chuh in moving armoires. Suck on that. 19-0 is inevitable, you pansies. There’s nothing you can do about it. Just sit back and enjoy ow-uh dawminunce. TAKE YOUR BEATING LIKE A MAN, LIKE BEASLEY DOES!

And, in case you still feel like whining, I’ll be here all postseason long, aftuh every fackin’ Pats blow-oot, to remind you of how fackin’ superiuh the fackin’ Pats are. Because we fackin’ DESERVE this success. Okay? I personally had to struggle through all those early years of the Pats, when they never went to the Super Bowl. Except in ‘85. And ‘96. I had to live through the indignity of purposely avoiding Pats games because they were loosuhs, and I did not care about them. That hurt. So if you think I’m not gonna revel in Pats’ awesomeness. YOU AAAA OUTTA YOUR FACKIN’ TREE, SHITBAWX!

If you find yourself confronted with an NFL postseason without a rooting interest and unmoved by Don Cheadle soliloquies, you must draw from the well of that most powerful of human emotions. Ok, well, lust probably won’t do here. But the second most powerful, hate, will serve as a fine proxy. This is the first in a series of posts filled with bile, spleen, vitriol and all-around nastiness toward all the teams involved with the sordid roundelay we know as the NFL Playoffs.

NFC 6th Seed — Washington Redskins (9-7)

There are several factors that might make it difficult for me to root against the Redskins: the death of Sean Taylor, the fact that Shawn Springs went to my high school, that my mother, uncle and many of my friends are fans. But it is, in truth, not really all that hard at all.

There’s always the all-too-easy litany of charges against them: the megalomaniacal imp Dan Snyder (who blocks out other games in the time slot when the ‘Skins are on), the team’s racialist name, its fanbase of Blackberry-toting doucheocrats, the Dead Tree Crew and FedEx Field being a slightly more unpleasant experience than Dachau and about as easy to get to as the Kwik-E-Mart corporate headquarters.

If that doesn’t prove sufficient, I can always draw upon this chestnut: In January of 1992, when I was in 4th grade, the week before the Redskins beat the Bills in Super Bowl XXVI, my school had an assembly where we did nothing but sing “Hail to the Redskins” for an hour. ON LOOP. FOR A FUCKING HOUR. The song is less than two minutes long. Such is the torpor-based education you get in public schooling in Maryland, I s’pose.

Did you know they won their playoff clinching game by 21 points? And that Sean Taylor wore the number 21? You know who’ll be sure to remind me? The woman who rings up my groceries. The UPS guy. The guy who hits me changing lanes on the Beltway. My drug dealer. Someone looking at DVDs next to me at Best Buy. The stick up kid who steals the DVD from me when I leave the store. The cop who takes my statement. The guy at the gun store. The people who I rob when I turn into a vigilante.

Ya gutta be fackin jokin, right? You mean to tell me Dr. Underneath and his 1,000 yards receiving and, most importantly, his luscious white skin isn’t good enough for your precious Pro Bowl squad, NFL? Somebody get Goodell on the phone. I feel like bellyachin’.

What’d I only buy two versions of his fackin jersey for, then? Because I was saving room for the Wes Wel-kah Pro Bowl jersey. My regular rotation goes: Papelbon All-Star jersey, Scalabrine jersey, my “Charles River Not Charles Drew River” shirt, ” and my “Celtic Green Not Pumpsie Green” hoodie. This woulda fit in perfect.

Three of the Pats eight Pro Bowlers are coloreds. That’s almost half! That ain’t right, I tell ya. I got half a mind to go back to not giving a damn about this team. Did me okay from 1960 until 2001.

With the Red Sox advancing to the World Series, Boston College still undefeated, KG moving to the Celtics, and this year’s Patriots in the process of becoming the best team in the history of the NFL (and you’re deluding yourself if you can’t accept the reality of that), we are on the verge of witnessing a perfect storm of douchebaggery emanating from the greater Boston area. We’re talking the absolute zenith of self-important fuckfacery. The sky will turn pitch black and rain vinegar upon us all.

I have done all that I can to stop this. I’ve offered bounties, yet NFL defenders remain too dumb, and NFL defensive coaches too incompetent to call for a drop kick right to Tom Brady’s patella. We at KSK have also tried repeatedly hammering the point home that Bill Simmons is a fucking douchebag (see below, or just wait for the next post). It’s a like a political talking point: the more often we say it, the more likely it is to stick in your brain, regardless of whether or not you actually believe it (“Oh, Bill Simmons? Yeah, he’s a douche. No, wait! I kinda used to like him! Damn you, KSK!”). But those efforts have done nothing to stem this growing doucheflood.

We are left with two options. The first option is to cultivate the hatred the rest of the nation has for these people, so that, even when the Patriots or Red Sox win, they cannot savor the victory fully. After all, if there’s any group of fans that has a “Why can’t you be happy for us?” mentality, it’s New England sports fans. Not only do they act douchey when they win. But they fully expect you to jump on the bandwagon with them. Witness Simmons’ infamous Pats-hater bitchfest from earlier in the year, one of the sorriest sports columns ever written.

Boston fans fail to grasp a standard rule of sports fandom, which is: Any team that wins a title that is not your team is fucking annoying. It doesn’t matter how the other team won. They’re not YOUR team, so they can eat a fat dick. Fuck this “appreciating” other teams shit. Normal fans don’t do that. At least Cowboy and Yankee fans have a solid understanding of just why people can’t fucking stand them. But Mickey from Natick? Nope, he’s not gonna grasp that concept. In fact, he’s not gonna grasp much of anything.

So that’s one option. But there is another option, and that is, of course, to join them. Is this a lame thing to do? Oh, yeah. Total fuckhead move. But hey, maybe you’re a Dolphins fan and you’ve abandoned all hope. Maybe becoming a dipshit asshole cumguzzler like Jimmy Fallon is your only way to stay happy. I don’t approve, but I’m not here to judge. We at KSK are here for the people, so we’ve come up with a few rules, listed below, of just how to turn yourself into one of these fans. One bonus of becoming an insufferable Boston bandwagon fan is that it gives the rest of us extra ammunition to want to gut New England fans with a paring knife, which I’m more than okay with. Hate feels good. It really gets me through my day.

Lest you think these rules are farcical, I assure you they are not. No one knows the psyche of New England sports fans quite like I do. I went to dipshit prep school in New England. I went to college in New England. My parents have lived in Connecticut for the past 17 years. You might even call me a “total fucking hypocrite,” which is more than fair. I’ve been in the heart of the douche. I’ve worn the fleece. I’ve heard all the God Street Wine songs. I know what it’s all about. I had plenty of opportunities to join the brood. Despite my own history of wanton douchebaggery, I resisted. But I’m still enough of a preppy dicksmack to help you reach your goal. Here now, is how you become one of “them”:

1. Use Manny Ramirez to justify all your stereotypes about Latin Americans, but do NOT use David Ortiz to refute any of them.

2. Bitch about Dane Cook “representing” you while, at the same time, rocking his exact same haircut.

3. Boast about Bill Belichick’s strategic genius as if it is somehow indirectly your doing. You’ll see plenty of New England fans, when seeing another coach fuck up, say to you, “Now, would Belichick do something like that? Hell no. He’d do it totally different.” You see, pointing out Belichick’s acumen is a way of trying to pass it off as your own. He’s smart, which makes you smart! Talk about Belichick the same way a proud father boasts about his child prodigy. You won’t be any more intelligent. In fact, you’ll still be a fucking eggplant. But you’ll feel more intelligent, and that’s nice.

4. Own $1,000 worth of Red Sox merchandise, but no Patriots merchandise whatsoever. The lone exception: The Wes Welker jersey. Pats fans love Wes Welker because he’s white. Just like them! They also love Tedi Bruschi, because he’s kinda white. And hey, that’s not bad either.

5. Be sure to boast about all the hot chicks Tom Brady gets to nail. Because that’s totally something for YOU to brag about.

6. Complain earnestly about how many ads Peyton Manning appears in while continuing to brag about the Pats’ O-line being Brady’s five layers of protection. Lord knows Brady’s never been in an ad for Stetson, or Movado, or Gap, or any of that shit.

7. If you put a five into a jukebox at any sports bar, you must play “Satellite” by the Dave Matthews Band at least once.

8. Act proudly ignorant of things you already know. Like so: “Hey, who was that colored guy in that “Rush Hour” movie? He was all right.” You know damn well it’s Chris Tucker, but the casual racism makes you 50% more charming to chicks in Framingham. This works even better if you’re a Boston-area college student. Yeah, you go to Tufts, but you have no fackin’ idea who those Maroon 5 faggots are. Sure, buddy. For a walking example of proud stupidity, consult this dumbshit:

9. Be sure to try and distinguish yourself as a “real fan”. All “real” Boston fans must be able to judge their fellow Boston fans’ credibility. Never been to Fenway? Poseur. Didn’t like the Pat Patriot logo? Bandwagoner. Went to college outside New England? Turncoat. Too young to remember the ‘86 Celtics? Faggot.

10. Bitch about the Boston accents in any film or TV show. “Yeah, ‘The Depahted’ was fackin’ great, but they don’t talk like that in fackin’ REVEEEEAH!!!!!” Yes, no film could ever accurately depict just how real, how fierce your hardscrabble Newton upbringing was.

11. Adopt the attitude that you, yes you, DESERVE this success. “Hey, we Pats fans know how it used to be back in the day. We earned these titles.” Don’t treat your team’s good fortune as the stroke of good fortune it happens to be. No, no, no. Your championship has to be deeper then someone else’s championship. It has to mean something more. Why? Because you fancy yourself as being introspective. Cockgobbler. Treat it like some sort of karmic reward for Len Bias dying, or some other twisted, idiotic explanation.

12. Always treat your fandom as membership to some kind of exclusive club of super cool people. Like the whole Red Sox Nation thing. Oooh, you guys all root for the same team? How unique! How special! Fucking die. Be sure to adopt a siege mentality when your team is criticized. “Hey, you can’t rip on Papelbon! He’s fackin’ one of us!” Whatever you need to make yourself feel less alone in the world.

13. Be sure to grow your hair out under your artificially aged Red Sox hat so that little hair wings sprout out the side. That looks great.

14. Laugh at your own jokes. You’re so funny, guy!

15. Dip.

16. Shun Ben Affleck. Embrace Matt Damon. That apples line never gets old!

17. Finally, bitch about everything: critics, certain players who personally disappoint you, etc. They call it New England for a reason. People in England love to fucking complain. You are the newer, even more annoying model.

Follow these rules and I promise you that everyone from the nation’s remaining 44 states will want to rape you with a hammer. But hey, you’re a Boston sports fan now. You’ll be completely ignorant to your own jackassery. That’s the beauty of it. You are now just as fucking annoying as a Notre Dame football fan, or a Duke basketball fan. That’s right, Pats fan. That’s the level you’re at right now. Enjoy your world titles, you fucking cockhog.

Your suggested rules in the comments.