Jon Gruden exemplified MAXIMUM DENSITY during his performance in the booth tonight. THIS GUY – he’s an outstanding proliferator of FOOTBALL PLATITUDES. First, he started in by saying that Drew Brees is “The Surgeon.” Much like Peyton Manning, another OUTSTANDING FOOTBALL PLAYER, is “The Sheriff.”

Don’t worry, fans. There was more. Mike Bell was “The Hammer.” Every tight end on the field was a “joker.” To drive the point home, Gruden donned a Batman Joker mask from the movie The Dark Knight. He leads Gotham City in malevolence. THIS GUY – HE GETS VISUAL AIDS! HE’S GOT PROP DISCIPLINE!

Did you see Roddy White cup the tits of a Saints defensive back on his touchdown grab? THAT IS OUTSTANDING REACHAROUND ABILITY, ESPECIALLY IN THE WAKE OF THE NFL’S CAMPAIGN DEALING WITH BREAST CANCER AWARENESS! You just can’t coach that. This guy – he really gets all up in there, inspecting for cancerous lumps. I’M GONNA CALL HIM “THE INSPECTOR.” If I were a cancerous growth, I’d want to stay away from this guy. He’s gonna sniff me out with extreme promptitude.

Did you see this guy sky for an interception? Brent Grimes is “The Levitator.” In all my years in the league, I’ve never seen one guy get up in the air like that guy just did. It’s like he attached a jet pack to his backside and took off. I tell you, I’m stimulated by what just happened on that play. Let me straddle my stool a little wider. You got the camera on that, camera guy? Good. I think you got a real future in camera work. I’m gonna call you “The Focuser.”

IN SUMMATION, THE REDSKINS ARE NOT GOOD AND SHERM LEWIS IS A BETTER BINGO CALLER THAN COACH. Apologies for the lack of a recap last night, but I figure people would want to relive that abortion of a game as little as possible. Plus, I only got three decent screencaps before drunkenness and disinterest caused me to tune out early in the second half. Before the game, we did marvel at the repugnance of Chris Cooley’s adoption of the Eminem look. According to Maj, he was on the radio this morning saying “he was all excited because he wants to keep it and grow it out and keep going whiter and whiter. Then he got in the car last night and Christie basically told him he looked stupid and he needs to dye it back.” Sorry your cheerleader wife doesn’t approve of you turning into Jeff Reed, Chris. Also, here’s the Geico caveman tailgating before the game. No way Daniel Snyder arranged for him to be caught by cameras for money. And here’s a sad ‘Skins fan who’s liable to be the first guy to hang himself with a letter. And, as always, here’s the Matron Saint. Oh Suzy, you deserve better than this game.

Even Suzy can’t believe Braylon caught balls tonight.

Last year with the Ravens, Rex Ryan’s defense made dolphin-filled tuna out of the Wildcat formation. Surely there was no way that Miami could win unless they did it like the Saints did last week – get more points off Sanchise turnovers than from their own offense. This time, though, the Dolphins donned their unbeatable orange duds and laid 31 points on the Pussytubers, while Chad Henne (CHAD HENNE!) registered a QB rating of 130.

“I have watched as you have grown complacent in your opulence, gringo grosso. As you have sat, dined and slobbered on your many chins, I have been at work, perfecting the deadly arts of…”

And while there was a highly entertaining affair on the field, the real contest of the night pitted the spastic Dolphins male cheerleader’s antics against the wild pom-pommed gyrations of Straw Hatted Jets Snow Blob. C’mon guys, WHO YA GOT?

Some more Miami crowd retardery after the jump.
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And that’s too bad, because it would have been tremendous to watch Jerry see the first two games in his Colossatorium blow up in his leathery face. Not that Romo didn’t give the Panthers a host of chances at interceptions with a raft of ill-advised throws. So we were limited to one agonized Wade Phillips hunch down of defeat.

Remember, it is only still late September. There is plenty of tantalizing Cowboys failure to come. There’s not going to be a Delhomme to deposit the ball in Terrance Newman’s chest at critical moments every week.

As for Carolina, Tar Heels season isn’t that far in the offing.

[Thanks again to reader Rafael for the .giffage]

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Mayhap it has something to do with the Dolphins having a two-minute drill (actually, they started their final drive with 3:17 remaining) that makes Andy Reid salivate for something other than a 20-piece family meal from Popeye’s, plus two Quizno’s footlong mesquite chicken with bacon subs with extra meat, plus one large Trough O’ Lard. It’s that bad.

And it was kind of amusing to watch, this Dolphin failure, if you could block out the forthcoming analyst pant-moistening at Pey-Pey winning DESPITE HIS OFFENSE HAVING THE BALL FEWER THAN 15 MINUTES!

Or, conversely

MANNING
NURSING HOME
FROTTAGE

More wack-wack-wackiness after le jump.

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In the immortal words of Nasir Jones, “F*#k Jay Z.” Sure, Jay can still bring it, but if everyone listened to him we wouldn’t have a gem like this from DJ Steve Porter. The video is heavy on AI (with good reason) before venturing into our domain. First comes the remix of Jim Mora’s legendary “Playoffs?” explosion, then there’s Mike Gundy’s fantastic rant. Eventually (around the 3:30 mark) we get to the good stuff. Namath. Kolber. Autotuned. Enjoy.

Thanks to reader Tomas for sending this our way.

A season of Monday Night Football draws to a close (pleasebeTK’slastpleasebeTK’slast) with another night of 10,000 Favre mentions and Tony Kornheiser raving about the existence of team songs. “YOU MEAN TO TELL ME EVERY TEAM HAS A SONG, JAWS?! WHAT TRULY BIZARRE RITUALS THESE FANS HAVE!” Trailing 17-10 in the 4th, the Bears were able to tie the game after a dubious-looking 4th down conversion by Matt Forte inside the Packers’ 5. Forte then then scored on the next play. Mason Crosby had a potentially winning kick blocked in the waning moments, then the coin flip caromed off Brian Urlacher’s helmet. The Bears then marched down the field to put a night of punts and interceptions to a close and piss off many a teased Vikings fan.

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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.

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Sweet interminable birth of Baby Jesus, that game went on forever. I mean, all the interceptions the Eagles threw in the endzone were kind of amusing, even if the air of inevitability of an Eagles win hung over the Linc from even before the opening kickoff. And Ken Dorsey is a rousing one-man band of suck. Still, this thing couldn’t have been more plodding if it were a Bergman film. If it weren’t for generous cheerleaders shots, I might have gotten slightly more impossibly tanked.

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You know, I sat through the entire ponderous spectacle that was Texans and Jaguars on Monday night and I can’t remember anything beyond an endless procession of turnovers and a bunch of scores after the game was already decided. In my drunken haze, I still managed to get a few amusing crowd shots and allow me to share them with you.

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