It’s moments like these that make using Twitter and blogging as a whole enjoyable. Doing the fake Philip Rivers Twitter feed is usually worth a chuckle and watching the steady uptick of followers is nice, but the real joy comes when despite all the perfectly obvious signs to the contrary, someone believes it’s actually Marmalard typing away his obscenity-laced ruminations. So God bless you, Eric Winter. All five entries on this teenager’s Twitter feed consists of actual trash talk to who he believes is Philip Rivers. Now, it could be that he’s that savvy and subtly playing into the joke or just really, truly dim. I’m inclined to believe the latter.

That’s our own KOGOD dancing in the aisles at a Wizards game the other night. Unfortunately, this is only a temporary gig for our friend, as the Capital City Goofball returns from paternity leave next week.

Okay, assholes. You think you can just fucking unfairly stereotype a Jersey fan like myself and get the fuck away wit it? THAT’S WHERE YOU’RE WRONG, AM I RIGHT?

(sits on hood of car)

First off, I am NOT from fucking Rockaway. Okay? I’m clearly from Nutley, or Essex, or some other part of Upper Central Eastern Northern Middle New Jersey. IS THAT NOT FUCKING CLEAR TO YOUS? You can’t just lump all Jerseyites together like dat. Every town in Jersey contains its very own distinct tribe of people wit its own unique blend of cultures and customs. We’re like the Africa of states, except we don’t have as many n—-rs. AM I RIGHT?

(grabs dick)

Furthuhmore, the fan you described yestuhday was CLEARLY a Jets fan. Everyone knows dat. I’m a Giant fan, okay? I don’t threaten to rape women in the ass, like Jet fans do. I threaten to kick them in the tits. Big difference. You should know dat. Jets fans are the ones who have no sense of class or decorum. Like remembuh the time the Saints had their game moved to Giants stadium, and all the fans were taunting them about having their homes flooded? Those were obviously Jet fans dressed as Giant fans. AGAIN, TRYING TO SHAME THE NFL’S FLAGSHIP FRANCHISE.

(contorts face into permanent half-smirk)

Bro, bro, bro, bro. And Sanremo Pizza? You really think Giant fans eat dere, bro? PATHETIC. Everyone knows we eat at Paradiso. BEST FUCKING ITALIAN SUBS IN ALL OF NORTH JERSEY. I beat you don’t even know where it is. Do you know? I can tell you where it is. Just take the Garden State. You got EZ Pass? You need EZ Pass. Do you have EZ Pass? No? You’re a faggot.

(grabs dick again, folds NY Post at Hondo section and tuck it under arm)

All’s I’m sayin’ is dat you got it wrong. You clearly know nothing about anything. As opposed to myself, who knows everything about everything. Like these shoes. You see dese shoes? I got a fucking DEAL AND A HALF on dese shoes. And I was gonna tell you where I got dem, BUT NOW I FUCKING WON’T. You are a FUCKING FAGGOT. And if I see you in my town, I SWEAR TUH GOD I WILL FUCKING BEAT YOU TO DEATH WITH A BICYCLE CHAIN. YOU HEAR ME?

(door flies open)

Tommy: HOW FACKIN’ DAY-UH YOU COMPLAIN ABOUT BEIN’ STEREOTYPED, YOU NEW YARK FAGGOT! We, the proud fans of Celtic Nation, have been stereotyped fahhhhh longah than you! WE EARNED THIS STEREOTYPE! YOU HAVEN’T HAD TO SUFFAH LIKE WE HAVE!

Mickey: You got a fucking problem, assfuck?

Tommy: I sure FACKIN’ do! I’LL FACK YOU AND THEN JIZZ ON YOUR FAT SLUT GARLFRIEND’S EYEBROWS!

Mickey: Try it! I know many violent Italians who will fucking STRANGLE YOUS!

Tommy: Yeah? Well, I bench 225!

Mickey: 235.

Tommy: I gawt this tattoo of Sylvester raping Tweety Bird!

Mickey: I GOT A FUCKING TATTOO OF ME FUCKING YOUR MOTHUH!

Tommy: Yeah, well yar mawm’s a DAHHHHKIE!

Mickey: AND YOUR MOM’S A FUCKING SPIC!

Tommy: FACK YOU!

Mickey: FUCK YOUS! All’s I’m sayin’ is, FUCK BOSTON. AM I RIGHT!

Tommy: No! You AHHHHHH WRAWNGGGG!! DIE!

Mickey: Yo yo yo, WATCH THE FUCKING HAIR!

Tommy: I WOULD SO FACKIN’ FIGHT YOU RIGHT NOW IF I DIDN’T HAVE TO GO TAKE A SHIT.

Mickey: Then it’s a date. My fist and your sorry ass!

Tommy: Mahhhhhk it. Finally, everyone will know that BAWSTON FANS AHHH THE MOST IMPARTANT FANS IN THE WARLD! NO ONE DENIES THIS!

Mickey: Fine. But let’s go to a shitty nightclub first and grab girls by their cunts.

Tommy: Okay.

This week, we’re holding the second annual KsK Kares Kharity Drive for Fisher House, which helps build temp housing for disabled veterans and their families. You can donate directly to FH here.

(wipes forehead with Diet Coke can)

I can’t work like this. All I can think about is cooling off. There’s gotta be a way to get some air in here.

(tries to open window)

Dangit! These windows won’t open! Well, that’s it. I’m gonna have to resort to extreme measures.

(takes off shoes and socks)

Ah! My word, that feels good. Aw, what the heck, may as well take it one step further.

(takes off pants, rests them on a nearby chair)

Much better. Oh, thank God. Now to sit down without my pants on and quietly do some work, in a situation that looks salacious but is, in fact, very innocent.

(door flies open)

Wade: Oh, shit.

Jerry: Well, well, well. Look who finally decided to drop the pants façade! Finally realized Old Navy didn’t make ‘em in size 86, did you, Chubtard?!

Wade: Sir, I was very hot, and…

Jerry: Spare me, Tubby! Of course you’re hot. I could drop you in liquid nitrogen and you’d still be sweating sesame oil, you big fat pig’s ass! Frankie! Frankie, get in here!

Frankie: Sir?

Jerry: Frankie, make sure to get a shot of Flab Calloway’s fat ass here. BETTER USE YOUR WIDEST LENS! THAT’S A PANAVISION ASS IF I EVER SEEN IT!

Frankie: You got it, Mr. J.

Wade: Hey, what are you doing? You can’t film me!

Jerry: Course I can, you big fat fuck! I’m the owner of this here team. Which means I own your fat ass. And lemme tell ya, that’s a lotta acreage! Now Frankie here is from HBO.

Wade: HBO?

Jerry: That’s right. Home of “Deadwood,” that show about your cellulite-crushed genitalia! Frankie’s here to shoot us all for HARD KNOCKS!

Wade: Hard Knocks?

Jerry: Didn’t I tell you my boy ROMO was a goddamn star? Well, now it’s official! HBO’s gonna make stars of us all! We’re gonna be on the TV!

Wade: But we already are on TV a lot.

Jerry: Not enough, Beastula. That dirty fucker Belichick likes taping other teams. Well, I’m beating him to the punch! The Dallas Cowboys are gonna be on camera 24/7! Let’s see that cougar-taming fuck edit that down! There won’t be a higher profile team in the whole goddamn league when we’re through! And, to boost the ratings, I’ve brought in even more characters!

Wade: Characters, sir?

Jerry: Don’t you know anything about television, Fatty? To be a hit show, you need compelling characters! That’s what I brought in Adam here!

(door flies open)

Pacman: Yo yo. Dat fat bitch ain’t wearin’ no saddle. Pacman ain’t down wid it.

Wade: You’re putting HIM on television?

Jerry: Of course! Here’s is a fascinating young man, torn between doing right is right, and heading down to the Gold Club to scope out some of that fine, fine, TIXAS ‘TANG! Don’t you see how conflicted this young man is?

Pacman: I gon make them panties snap, bitch. Make you cry fo dat chocolate dong.

Wade: He doesn’t seem very conflicted.

Jerry: Shut up, Fattalanche. My boy ADAM is a goddamn star! You put him on cameras with my boy ROMO, and TO, and the DOUBLE-J HISSELF, YOU GOT YERSELF A GODDAMN SMASH!

Wade: Sir, there’s a lot of work to do. I don’t know if…

Jerry: Shut up shut up shut up. You know what else we need? Surprise guest stars, people the audience kinda recognize! People love seein’ people they’ve seen before! They hate new fuckers! So check this out!

(door flies open)

Switzer: (blind drunk) Heeeeeey. You tell that Bob Devaney, if he don’t like the way Barry Switzer recruits, that Barry Switzer will personally come to his house and piss on his steak.

Jerry: HOT DAMN! Now is this a character, or what?! Look at how drunk my boy SWITZER is!

Switzer: Jerray! Jerray Jones! Damn good to see you, ol’ boy! Say, you remimber win… you remimber win we brought those two honeys duck hunting, then we paddled their naked asses with that rifle butt? You’re a good man, Jerry Jones. DON’T LET NO ONE EVER TELL YOU DIFFERENT!

Jerry: God damn, he is drunk! You see, Fatty? This is what America loves. They love seeing drunk people on camera, because they’re drunks too! That’s called identifying with a character! HOW YOU LIKE THAT?

Wade: Well, I guess it’s okay if they film me.

Jerry: You? Pfft. You think you’re a STAR? You’re no character, Nell Carter.

Wade: I am too a character.

Jerry: No, you ain’t! You’re just a cipher. A foil. Jokes just bounce right off you and go straight to the moon!

Wade: I have a personality!

Jerry: Like hell you do. You’re not going on camera, Tubby. I can tell from this ass shot you ain’t cut out for show business. I’m bringing in a seasoned actor to play you. Van Patten!

(door flies open)

Jerry: Wade, from now on, my boy DICK will be playing the part of you whenever the cameras are around.

Wade: But the cameras are always around.

Jerry: Sure are! But Dick knows his way around the game! Don’t ya, Dick?

Dick Van Patten: Oh, yes. I read for Jerry Van Dyke’s part on “Coach” once. He’s a fine man.

Jerry: You see? This man HAS BEEN THROUGH THE WARS, KAMALA!

Wade: Well, what about a villain? You need a villain.

(door flies open)

Wade: Well, no shit.

Jerry: Isn’t this great?! You couldn’t ask for a better cast of characters in the whole wide world! Now butter those Dockers back on and get the fuck out of Coach Van Patten’s office, Fatpants! It takes 8 hours to get the fat suit on my boy DICK!

Wade: Shit.

Jerry: We’re gonna all be famous, you fat piece of dogshit! YEEEEEHAWWWWW!!! WOOOO HOOOOOOO I AM FUCKING CRAZY!!!!