As Otto Man noted in the comments earlier, Julius Peppers’s freakishly huge grin is reminiscent of Soundgarden’s “Black Hole Sun” video. Oh ho ho, but there’s something creepier than the “Black Hole Sun” video…

That’s right, it’s the triumphant return of moutheyes. Julius Peppers, you make for one badass-looking Corinthian. I guess we can all skip lunch today. And sleeping for the next week.

(off-topic P.S. Fight Gone Bad recap update: I’ll deliver the promised post later this week. Presently I’m waiting on two other sources of photos so that I can maximize my own embarrassment.)

BOOM! You were NOT expecting to see Nightmare Roethlisberger, were you?

To answer your collective question: No, there is no live-blog tonight. We’re all drinking in bars and celebrating the beginning of Buffalo wing season. In fact, if you look in the right Steelers bar in D.C., you’ll be able to find KSK quorum (KSKworum?).

But consider this your open thread to bitch about the song used for the intro, the announcers, the commercials, the refereeing, the retarded-looking fans in the stands, and/or the complete lack of cheerleaders. Thanks, Pittsburgh. Way to not have attractive women.

Hi, folks! I’m Alonzo Spellman, former defensive lineman for the Chicago Bears and top secret government operative for King Narudi of Jurumba. (KING, THE HEADS YOU REQUESTED ARE IN MY BAG.) You might remember me from the time I got arrested for roasting my girlfriend on a spit, or the time I defecated in Dave Wannstedt’s wallet, or the time I was caught on a surveillance camera trying to have children with a flowerpot. WHERE ELSE WOULD FLOWER CHILDREN COME FROM?

You also might remember me from such successful products as Alonzo Spellman’s Clown Burgers, Alonzo Spellman’s Tit Wrench, and Alonzo Spellman’s Baby Razors. Now I’m BACK, with an even better product!

It’s Alonzo Spellman’s Dog Saw! We all know sawing off the limbs and heads of your dog can be a real pain! Blood goes everywhere. Your wrists get sore. AND THAT FUCKING DOG WON’T STOP BARKING. SHUT UP, DOG. YOU BARK BECAUSE YOU’RE TOO DUMB TO KNOW HOW TO TALK. I KNOW WHAT YOU WANT, DOG. BUT YOU CANNOT HAVE MY PRECIOUS TALKING PILLOW. IT HOLDS THE SECRET TO LIFE.

Well, with my new, patented Dog Saw, the everyday chore of butchering your dog is now a snap! The cushioned handle is designed by Oxo for maximum comfort! No more pulling up halfway through your dog to rest up! And my saw’s teeth are crafted from 100% stainless steel made in China. AND IF ANYONE KNOWS HOW TO CHOP UP A PUPPY, IT’S THOSE CHINAMEN. This saw don’t bark. IT BITES, BITCH!

My saw blade comes with a lifetime guarantee against corrosion, rust, or dulling. No matter how many dogs you need to cut through, Alonzo Spellman’s Dog Saw is up to the task! AND IT CAN SAW THROUGH ALL BREEDS: Labradors, Great Danes, Irish Wolfhounds, Portuguese Water Dogs, Pugs, Greyhounds, Dalmations, German Shepards, those fucking dogs that look like a ballsack. What dog is that again?…

Yeah, that one. I FUCKING HATE THOSE DOGS. STOP DISGUISING YOURSELF AS MY BALLS, DOG. YOU CAN’T FIT IN MY PANTS.

Don’t settle for some fucking pussy faggot dog saw that can only handle Pomeranians. Alonzo Spellman’s Dog Saw is endorsed by the people at Stihl and is the #1 choice for professional dog carvers the world over. It can saw a dog in half TWICE as fast as any other dog saw on the market. LOOK! It can cut through this dog…

And stay razor sharp enough to cut through a tin can, a piece of aluminum siding, and then a nursing student! Like I said: IT BITES, BITCH! Just ask my top customer…

Oh, man.

So yeah, no dog saws for me. Although yeah, Spellman make one good fucking dog saw. That shit’ll never jam up on you. Wait! Don’t quote this in an ad or anything!

You see?! But order your Alonzo Spellman’s Dog Saw NOW! Supplies are limited, and I must flee for the Ivory Coast before the end of the week! The CIA knows too much. I THINK THEY MAY HAVE FOUND THE BONES IN MY SHED. THOSE ARE NOT MY BONES, MR. MAN.

Order your today by sending $45,000,000 in solid gold coins to this address:

The Small Mound Of Dirt Along I-66.
Manassas, VA

Be sure to send the gold in a bubble pack to prevent denting. Gold is very soft, LIKE A NICE TIT. Order now and I’ll throw in Alonzo Spellman’s Cat Eye Pliers absolutely FREE!

But hurry! YOU AIN’T EVER SAW A DOG SAW LIKE THIS!

This.

H/T – Best Week Ever.

WASHED FACESPOT.  BRUSHED CHOMPERS.  GOOD SLEEPS BEFORE RAVENS GAME.  HAPPY SLEEPS.  NOT GONNA DREAM ABOUT PHIL RIVERS WITH MOUTH-EYES TONIGHT.  GONNA MAKE NICE PICTURES IN THE HEADSPOT.

NICE PICTURES.

NICE PIC…ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Marisa Miller: Hey, Ben. 

Ben: HI

Marisa: You like what you see?

Ben: THATS A NICE MOTORBIKE YES

Marisa: Wanna go for a ride?

Ben: THANK YOU LADY BUT NO.  YOU DONT GOT NO HELMET FOR THE BEN.  CAN’T GET OUCHIE BEFORE RAVENS GAME.

Marisa: That’s cool.  Maybe Jay Cutler wants to ride with me.

Ben: BRONCO JAY IS HERE?

Cutler: Whatever-ever-ever.

Ben: AHHHHHH!  MOUTH-EYES ON JAY!  THE BEN NEEDS HELP!  GOTTA CHECK DOWN.  WHERE’S HINES?

Hines: Herro, Rongrastname-name-name.

Ben: AHHHHH SLANTY MOUTHS!

Hines: Why you scaled Rongrastname?  You no have eye eithel.  Time to rook in meellol-ol-ol.

Ben: NO EYES FOR THE BEN!!!  CAN’T PLAY WITHOUT EYES-EYES-EYES!

[wakes up]

YAHHHH–  WHA?

OH.  JUST… JUST A DREAM?  STILL GOT EYES?

[feels face]

STILL GOT EYES!  BEN’S GONNA SEE EVERYTHING FROM NOW ON.  EVEN WEAK SIDE BLITZ AND SHORT RECEIVERS.

[phone beeps]

TEXT MESSAGE FOR THE BEN?  AFTER SNOOZY TIME?

Passersby were amazed by the unusually large amounts of blood. Passersby were amazed by the unusually large amounts of blood. Passersby were amazed by the unusually large amounts of blood. Passersby were amazed by the unusually large amounts of blood. Passersby were amazed by the unusually large amounts of blood. Passersby were amazed by the unusually large amounts of blood. Passersby were amazed by the unusually large amounts of blood. Passersby were amazed by the unusually large amounts of blood. Passersby were amazed by the unusually large amounts of blood. Passersby were amazed by the unusually large amounts of blood. Passersby were amazed by the unusually large amounts of blood.

Hirsute loverman Dolfan Dan does the Super Bowl Truffle Shuffle. After this disturbing turn of events, I am retrospectively glad Miami got that ass beat last weekend.

Don Shula must be spinning in his grave. He’s not dead or anything; he just loves to strap his coffin to a big gyroscope and go for a whirl. He says it livelies up the old blood. Funny guy.

“RRRuffles Have Ridges!”

It’s like she wants you to chain her up in your basement!

The all-too-rare cheerleader O face…

No matter what you did yesterday, Getty’s photographer in Denver had a better afternoon…

Oh, and as long as we’re focusing on Denver I feel I must personally dispel this popular new rumor that John McCain is a Raider fan. Not surprisingly this rumor is 100% false (mostly because nobody outside of Brad Gilbert has admitted to being a Raider fan in the past decade). As we have come to learn, McCain is in fact a fan of none other than the defending Super Bowl champion New York Giants.

I never knew McCain was such a fairweather fan. I guess this mean’s he’ll be voting Obama tomorrow morning.

Lane Kiffin: Well, I guess Mr. Davis wants to see me today. Although I don’t know why he invited me to his forbidding mountaintop castle at midnight. Seems awfully late for a business meeting. I just hope he fires me so I can get on with my life.

(knocks on very large, ornate gargoyle door knocker)

Hmm. No answer. HELLO? ANYONE THERE?

(door creaks open on its own)

Gee. That’s odd.

(walks in)

Boy, there’s no one here. HELLO! MR. DAVIS? IT’S ME, LANE!

Oh my goodness! Look at all those bats! Well, it doesn’t look like anyone is here. I think I’ll get going. But, before I do, I better lean against this very old bookcase so that I can tie my shoe.

(leans against bookcase, triggers hidden mechanism, opens secret door, falls down steep slide into damp, torch-lit chamber)

Oh, my goodness! That must have been a thirty-foot drop! But how will I get out of here? Dammit, my cell phone doesn’t work! I better use one of these torches to light my way.

(crypt flies open)

Count Al: HISSSSSSS!!!!!!!!

Lane: AAAAAAH!

Count Al: Now, I am going to suuuuuuck.

Lane: Please, Mr. Davis. If you just let me hire my own defensive coordinator, I think we can get this team on track!

Count Al: Must suuuuuuck. Vant to suuuuuck…

Lane: No, please! Don’t subject these fans to any more of your terrors!

Count Al: Cannot stop sucking… must have fresh, overpaid bodies to feast upon. Finished sucking bloated body of Jamatthew Russell…

Lane: Jamarcus, sir.

Count Al: Jamichael.

Lane: Jamarcus.

Count Al: Jamclintock!

Lane: Jamarcus.

Count Al: VATEVER! (picks up illegitimate child of Darren McFadden’s, chomps into its back, drinks it spinal fluid) NOW I AM GOING TO SUCK YOU!

Lane: Never!

(turns and runs)

Oh no, a mummy!

Art Shell: (groans loudly)

Count Al: No escape. Vee shall always suuuuuuck!

Lane: Not so fast, Mr. Davis. I know your one weakness!

Count Al: HISSSSSS!!!!!! HIGH PERCENTAGE, SHORT RANGE PASSING PLAYS! DAMN YOU, KIFFIN!

Lane: Now to escape to a cushy Pac-10 coaching job!

Count Al: VEREVOLF MAN, SEIZE HIM!

WereRob Ryan: OW-OOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!

Lane: Not so fast, Wolf Man! I know your weakness too!

Count Al: CURSES! A sensible, blitz-free defense! His silver and black bullet!

WereRob Ryan: OW-OOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!

Lane: I’ll be leaving now, Mr. Davis. I wish you nothing but the best in your future endeavors.

Count Al: I VILL GET YOU, LANE KIFFIN! YOU VILL NOT STOP ME FROM SUCKING! I VON’T PAY OUT YOUR CONTRACT! GET ME THE UNDEAD BODY OF VINCE EVANS!

Art Shell: (groans loudly)

Al Davis Photoshoped by 289. OR WAS HE?!

Oh my god oh my god oh my god! It’s happening! IT’S REALLY HAPPENING!

After waiting 16 years, Brett is finally coming to my home state! No more long distance relationship! No more driving hours and hours in the middle of the night to quench my insatiable butt-lust! I just… I can’t believe it. Pleasure overload! Pleasure overload! My God, WHAT DO I WEAR WHEN HE ARRIVES!

(rifles through closet)

Hmmm… the pencil skirt? Too prudish. The brum? (NSFW) Too weird. Oh, I know… the stockings! Stockings and a full-length mink coat for my Bretty! B-b-b-b-Bretty and the Jets!

I can’t believe we’re finally going to be together EVERY DAY. I’m gonna spend the night at his apartment all the time. There are so many things we’re going to be able to do. We can go have dinner in the city. We can go have weekends in the country. We can fuck like animals. It’s gonna be amazing.

I gotta get ready! Better call my wife…

Wife: Hello?

It’s over, dear. I’m so sorry. But Brett is here now. THE BUTTHOLE WANTS WHAT IT WANTS!

I‘m also gonna have to break it off with Tony, Tom, and Peyton. God, I hate doing that. I just loved the way Tony smiled. But I want Brett to know I’m a one-QB journalist! We’re finally going exclusive! I can’t wait to take him to my kid’s first softball game. I can’t wait to show him my garden. I can’t wait to sit with him on the train and bitch about the fact that there are people sitting around us. I can’t wait to grade lunches with him. I can’t wait to feel his manly stubble tickling my ball bag.

I’m gonna bring him over to the NBC set all the time. Collinsworth will be SOOOOO jealous. And I’m totally going to have lunch with him every day at Quizno’s. MAYBE I CAN GET A JOB WITH JETS AND WE CAN WORK TOGETHER!

God, I hope he moves in. Keep your fingers crossed! I know he’s tough to pin down, especially on the bathroom floor. But I think this marks a real turning point in our relationship. I think he’s finally ready to take this things to the next level. God, I can’t wait to have little gunslinger babies with him! I’m so in love!

I’M SO HAPPY NOW! I LOVE MY BRETT!