Five days after their much discussed dinner meeting, NFL commish Roger Goodell and Player’s Union head honcho DeMaurice Smith were spotted dining out on the town. If last week’s rendezvous was all-business, last night’s get-together was a far more intimate affair. Our spies at Katsuya report that the two were canoodling over plates of crispy rice with spicy tuna and enough cool sake to keep the conversation flowing well into the evening.

After discussing labor negotiations over drinks, the NFL’s hottest new couple moved on to other topics, like their favorite movies (Goodell adores Love, Actually, and Smith gushes over everything John Hughes). While we’re not sure any progress was made on the lockout front, we’re told they did agree to meet for a private weekend summit in Vermont while the pair shared in the Hollywood eatery’s famed chocolate “lover” cake.

Following dessert Goodell and Smith departed in separate cars, only to be seen reconnecting later that night poolside at The Standard. The ruddy Goodell sipped a beer, while his new friend splurged on a champagne cocktail. Not too shabby considering their combined income of $2.

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.

7:00 am Wake Up: Rise ‘n shine, campers! Put a smile on your face and get ready for a great day.
7:30 am Breakfast: Olivia’s famous flapjacks.
8:15 am Arts & Crafts: These Gucci wallets have to be on the streets of Hong Kong by Friday.
9:15 am Exercise: Fat camp for daddy-in-law’s chubby little secret.
10:00 am Swimming: Bring your trunks and a towel down to the waterfront, and don’t forget to buddy up!
11:00 am Squash: Learn how to hit a kill shot like a real wallbanger.
1:00 pm Lunch: Fill up your sippy cups with all you can drink bug juice.
2:00 pm Rest Period: Don’t forget to write your letters home.
3:00 pm Talent Show: Archie will be the only judge.
5:00 pm Football Stuff: Apparently this is mandatory. Whatever.
6:00 pm Cookout: We need volunteers for the grill. Parental permission required.
7:00 pm Movie: Little Giants
8:30 pm Campfire: I’m only gonna say this once, it’s “S’mores” not “smores.”
10:00 pm Lights Out: This goes for you too, veterans.

Tom Brady has added “ugly chick boots” to his ongoing list (along with “long, pretty hair”) of things he’s doing to cancel out the manliness of winning three Super Bowls and marrying a Brazilian supermodel. *shakes dice* C’monnnnn MAKE OUT WITH WELKER!

UGG Australia announced today that it is partnering with NFL superstar Tom Brady of the New England Patriots to launch its first men’s marketing initiative. The multi-year collaboration between the three-time Super Bowl champion and the brand will include Brady’s casual footwear as well as select outerwear and accessories. [press release]

“Hi, Tom Brady here. Take it from me: UGGs don’t just offer unparalleled comfort while making your legs look shorter and your ankles fat, they’re also great in the bedroom!”

Wade: Well, I’ll be. Look at that!

(looks at self in full body mirror)

Wade, you old coot! You done dropped thirty pounds! Gall dangit, that is somethin’. Loooong overdue, I tell ya. I feel great! I’ve got much more energy, and my dang feet ain’t so sore at the end of the day.

I tell you what. When those players see the work I put into dropping this weight, they’ll be inspired to work their keesters off for this season. I think this is a great first step. And nothin’s gonna keep me from goin’ back to the way I was. No, siree. No chance of that happening.

(hears rumble)

What’s that sound?

(rumble grows stronger)

Uh oh…

Jerry: YEEEEEHAW!!!! YEEEEEEEHAW!!!! YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHAWWWWWWW! I’m fucking back, you silver-haired pile of fat shit! You fucking chubmouth! Whatcha starin’ in the mirror for, fatty? Looking for your balls? Well the Double J has owned those puppies since 2007! AND I AIN’T GIVIN’ ‘EM BACK!

Wade: Sir, I don’t think your fat jokes will work on me this time. Look at me! I dropped thirty pounds.

Jerry: Oh now, did you? Lost weight, eh? Got the ol’ Rex Ryan Fat Lasso around your bellybag?

Wade: Good ol’ fashioned diet and exercise, sir. No surgery.

Jerry: Well, that’s pretty impressive there, Tubby. Kinda. Maybe. A little. Aw hell, who am I kiddin’? YOU’RE JUST AS FAT AND GROSS AS YOU ALWAYS WERE, FATTY! Thirty pounds? That’s barely a drop in your fatbucket! What did you lose, a pussy fold? You lost one pussy fold, didn’t you? Only eight folds left in your fatty pussy now, Fatticus Finch?

Wade: Sir, I really think we should get back to concentrating on our minicamps.

Jerry: Nothing you do is mini, fatty. You’re so fat, I could have you replace Colorado in the Big 12 and no one would notice! We’d just call it, the Big 10, Plus One Really Big Fat Shit! They could have sociology class in your fatty pussy!

Wade: This completely inapprop…

Jerry: SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP. Now listen, fatsauce. I admire you for droppin’ a few ell bees. Hell, the Double J could stand to lose a few hisself. Only exercise I git is when I’m fuckin’ Susan Skaggs TEN THOUSAND FEET HIGH! That woman LOVES getting’ a spur in her rectum, I’ll tell you that!

But I don’t know if I like YOU bein’ all Skinny Wade and shit. It could make you uppity. And that’s not gonna work for me, Fatass. THE DOUBLE J DON’T TAKE KINDLY TO UPPITYNESS! This is a big season ahead. I let you git away with that “we’re a young team” shit last year. But not this year! I GOT DEZ BRYANT IN THE DRAFT AND HE IS A GODDAMN STAR! You hear me? A STAR!

Wade: I know expectations will be higher, sir.

Jerry: GOD DAMN RIGHT THEY WILL BE! You will win me three Super Bowls this year, fatass!

Wade: But you can only win one Super Bowl in a given yea…

Jerry: THEY’RE PLAYING IT IN MY STADIUM AND IF I SAY I WANT THREE SUPER BOWL TROPHIES THIS YEAR YOUR FAT ASS WILL GIT ‘EM FOR ME! You understand, Gunty?

You listen to me and you listen good. Nothing is gonna stop me from gettin’ us a home Super Bowl this year. YOU INCLUDED. I need to make sure every part of this organization remains firmly under my boot. Especially all that luscious cheerleader pussy gravy! I can’t have you gettin’ all skinny and independent. I need you FAT! And insecure! And desperate to please me!

Wade: I won’t get fat again.

Jerry: Oh, really? I believe these Oreo Cakesters here might beg to differ!

(brings out the Cakesters)

Wade: Cakesters?

Jerry: Take a good look, fatass. I got black ones and I got blonde ones. You could have them together. It’s the kind of interracial cream pie Irvin talks about every GODDAMN day. I have boxes of these strategically placed all along the office. You won’t be able to piss without a tempting box of moon pies undressed and ready for your slobbering tongue!

Wade: That’s downright cruel, sir.

Jerry: I ain’t done yet! You smell that air?

Wade: (sniffs) Yes. Smells like hickory smoke, sir.

Jerry: REAL hickory smoke. I got fresh brisket and pigs roasting in a pit right below this very office. And the smoke vents right here! By your desk! Now tell me you can resist that all sweet, succulent little piggy, BIG PIGGY! Tasty cracklins. Meat that pulls right off the bone. ARE YOU HUNGRY YET, BIG PIGGY? I THINK YOU ARE!

Wade: (eats rice cake) No, sir. You’re gonna have to do better than that.

(door flies open)

Garrett: Hmm. Yes. Indeed. It seems our portly fellow here has deprived himself of a good EATING in quite some time! Oh, how my Eating Club companions will be so disappointed in you, good sir.

(opens doggie bag)

For it seems they were not able to eat the last of my wife Muffin’s world famous BEEF WELLINGTON! They assumed you’d make a fine trash receptacle for it. Oh, what a shame that I’ll have to bestow a treat such as this one upon one of our many Negro custodial workers. They never appreciate such gifts as much as you think they would! And they never TOUCH the horseradish sauce!

Wade: You dirty snake!

Garrett: Now now, good sir. Our esteemed owner here is right to want to keep you, shall we say, larger than life? Larger than most things, I imagine! For only with you at your corpulent best will people finally be able to see that a Jason Garrett Princeton offense shall be the deemed the most sophisticated of all NFL offenses! Oh, the sophistication! My pass patterns shall walk the runways in Milan! I shall mold Dez Bryant into another Sam Hurd yet!

Wade: This is wrong! This is evil! You people should be happy for me! Not trying to push me off the wagon!

Garrett: Oh! Oh! Did someone say wagon?

(bells ring)

FOR I DO BELIEVE THAT IS OUR VERY OWN CHUCK WAGON APPROACHING!

(door run over by half dozen angry horses)

MBIII: JERRY FUCKING JONES! JERRY FUCKING JONES, YOU MOTHERFUCKING MOTHERCOCKSUCKER!

Jerry: Ah, Marion! Just in time with the chuck wagon!

MBIII: YOU PIECE OF SHIT! MARION BARBER WILL FUCKING TEAR YOU LIMB FROM LIMB FOR MAKING HIS ASS DRIVE A GODDAMN CHUCK WAGON! SHIT AIN’T DIGNIFIED!

Wade: They’re making you drive a chuck wagon, Marion?

MBIII: YES GOD DAMMIT! WHAT DO YOU WANT? WE HAVE MOTHERFUCKING RIBS. MOTHERFUCKING BEANS. MOTHERFUCKING BRUNSWICK STEW. BUT DON’T ASK FOR MOTHERFUCKING BISCUITS. I’M NOT MAKING YOU FRESH BISCUITS, ASSHOLE!

Wade: Well actually, I’ve been losing weight.

MBIII: WELL LOSE MORE, BECAUSE YOU’RE STILL FUCKING FAT, COACH.

Wade: Yes, sir.

Jerry: What do you think, Cinnabutt? This whole chuck wagon is full of fresh, delicious food. AND I put the fixin’s bar right outside your door! Can you smell all that goodness? Just take it in there, Tubby! It’s all waiting to looooove you!

Wade: No, sir. You can keep that chuck wagon right here for as long as you like, but I ain’t tempted. I’m stronger than you think I am. Now that I know how it feels to eat right and be healthy, nothing you say or do can make me go back. I’m not here for you, sir. I’m here for the players. I’m here to show them that some people aren’t lost causes. That someone like me, who’s been fat his whole life, can still turn things around. That’s gonna serve our team well. They’ll know it’s never too late to give up on yourself. And I’m gonna keep preachin’ it and livin’ it.

Jerry: Well, well, well. Aren’t you Mister high and mighty now! All up on your perch of healthy livin’! No chuck wagon for me! No pussy pie for ol’ Wade! He’s too DIGNIFIED for that sort of thing! Well, you listen here, Dr. Blubber. You may be all strong and willpowery now. But I’mma leave this chuck wagon here. And one night, you’re gonna be up late helpin’ make my boy Dez Bryant a GODDAMN STAR, and you’ll smell that brisket and you’ll say to yourself, Hell I earned this! And then you’ll have one little bitty teeny tiny taste. JUST A DROP. And that’s all it’ll take for the floodgates to open and BIG FUCKING CHUBTARD WADE TO COME SLITHERING BACK OUT!

Wade: Never!

Jerry: Wanna bet? BRING IN THE CHILI!

Pacman: CHUH CHUH. Sumbuddy up n diz bitch call fo some Skyline? Pacman got dat sheet 4 u. He kno he in Ohigho an shit now, but he bring dat chilli. O FUKK YEZ, HE DO. He gon shine. He gon fill dat puzzy up wit da chili till it b a sloppee jo. THEN HE GON CHOW DOWN. Pacman down wid it. And Pacman gon drank. O HE GON DRANK. U thank he ain’t gon drank? PACMAN SAY AIN’T NO DRANK DRANK TILL A BITCH GET A JALAPENO IN DAT AZZHOLE.

Wade: This sucks.

Jerry: YEEEEHAWWWW YOU WON’T BE ABLE TO RESIST MY CHUCK WAGON, FATASS! SOON, YOU’LL BE FAT AGAIN AND I’LL HAVE YOUR SWEATY FAT ASS WRAPPED AROUND MY FINGER! NOW EAT THOSE CAKESTERS, TUBBY! EAT EAT EAT! YEEEHAWWWW GOD DAMMIT I AM FUCKING CRAZY!!

The above Photoshop comes from our intermittent but terrifying mouth-eyes meme, and it owes at least some inspiration from the Corinthian, the most memorable nightmare from Neil Gaiman’s Sandman series.

While the headline image is of my own creation, many KSK readers responded to our call for JaMarcus Photoshops in Monday’s post, and I’m proud to share the best of the submissions below. Thanks to all who took the time to take part in the fun.

(Douglas D.)

(Dan G.)

(Zoo with Roy)

(Tim S.)

(Samantha L.)

(Samantha L.)

(Wook)

(Pamela H.)

(Ed)

(John S.)

(John S.)

(Stinky Pete)

(our own Christmas Ape)

(Ken B.)

Jim Schwartz is very excited about his new rookie running back. “Some people watch adult videos on their computer. I go to YouTube and watch Jahvid Best highlight clips. That’s what gets me aroused.” That and “Teddy Graham people.” [Free Press via Detroit 4 Lyfe]

Name: Mike Kafka
Age: “Anyone who keeps the ability to see beauty never grows old.”

On Leadership: “By imposing too great a responsibility, or rather, all responsibility, on yourself, you crush yourself.”

On The Importance of Combine Workouts: “Let me remind you of the old maxim: people under suspicion are better moving than at rest, since at rest they may be sitting in the balance without knowing it, being weighed together with their sins.”

On Quarterbacking Philosophy: “A man of action forced into a state of thought is unhappy until he can get out of it.”

On Pocket Presence: “Hiding places there are innumerable, escape is only one, but possibilities of escape, again, are as many as hiding places.”

On Party Life In the NFL: “My peers, lately, have found companionship through means of intoxication – it makes them sociable. I, however, cannot force myself to use drugs to cheat on my loneliness – it is all that I have – and when the drugs and alcohol dissipate, will be all that my peers have as well.”

On Road Beef: “Evil is whatever distracts.”

On the Importance of Proper Crotch Protection: “God gives the nuts, but he does not crack them.”

On Bill Belichick: “One must not cheat anyone, not even the world of its victory.”

On the Possibility of Playing For Rex Ryan: “So long as you have food in your mouth, you have solved all questions for the time being.”

On the Collective Bargaining Agreement: “Tyranny or slavery, born of selfishness, are the two educational methods of parents; all gradations of tyranny or slavery.”

On the Media: “Writers speak stench.”

Fears: “Dread of night. Dread of not-night.”

Immediate Impact: “Hesitation before birth. If there is a transmigration of souls then I am not yet on the bottom rung. My life is a hesitation before birth.”

Down the Road: “A first sign of the beginning of understanding is the wish to die.”

Strength: Fearless in the face of a killer.
Weakness: Driving

Definitive on-field highlight video:

Mainstream Media Comparison: Richard Seymour
KSK Comparison: Kevin Williams

Who Wants Him: Everybody
Who Will Take Him: The Rams, unless they do something truly retarded.

Story ESPN Will Shove Down Your Throat: How many spears does he really keep in his home?

Immediate Impact: Rams still suck.
Down the Road: Rams still suck. But at least they have a good defensive line.

Image
Bonus image

(Christmas Eve)

Santa: Oh, dear! This storm doesn’t seem to be letting up!

Mrs. Claus: Papa, why you so worried? Here. I make-a you-a nice SCUNGILLI. With the pepperoncini.

Santa: Oh, thanks mama!

Mrs. Claus: That’s-a my Santa!

Santa: Oh, I feel bad for all the little children out there tonight. This storm is the worst we’ve EVER faced! Even Rudolph’s nose isn’t bright enough to cut through this much snow and ice! I’m afraid… we may have to cancel Christmas.

Mrs. Claus: But papa! You-a never cancel-a the Christmas! You need-a fresh-a pepper on your chicken parmagnana!

Santa: Well, I just don’t know how we’re going to deliver all these presents in this kind of weather!

(knock on the door)

Voice: Open up! It’s not a fit night out for man nor beast! NOR ROBERTO HUMIDOR!

Santa: Well, who could that be? Mama, could you get the door?

Mrs. Claus: Of course. And I-a bring-a you-a some fresh SALTIMBOCCA.

(door flies open, smell of egg nog farts wafts in)

Ryan: HOW THE FUCK YOU DOIN’, SANTA?

Santa: Why, it’s coach Ryan of the Jets!

Ryan: Hey! I smell meatball subs! You got meatball subs in here, lady? I bet you do! I bet you do, you saucy little bitch!

Mrs. Claus: Ooh hoo hoo hoo! I make-a you a plate!

Ryan: No plates necessary! Just throw it and I’ll catch it all with my mouth! Santa, Mrs. C, lemme tell you something. I have had a HELL of a Christmas Eve. We had turkey for dinner, and when I sat down to relax afterwards, I must have farted at least thirty fucking times. BUT I SMOTHERED ALL OF THEM WITH MY TURKEY-STUFFED ASS! Then, when Rob fell asleep next to me, I finally got up and released them all at once! I CALL THAT THE OZONE. I’m my own dutch oven!

(chugs wassal)

Santa: Why, that sounds like great fun!

Mrs. Claus: Papa, how-a you gonna make-a you own dutch oven with such a little ass? Kids expect a Santa with a big ass!

Ryan: She’s right, Gift Boy! You need to get chompin’! Now, first order of business around here. NICKNAMES. Santa, I don’t really like your name. I don’t like the a at the end. Make you sounds like a twat. My half-Mexicali QB with a shit knee says any guy with an a on the end of his name, in his culture, is either a woman, or about to be made one! HOW ABOUT THAT NACHO? Now, from here on out, your name is THE BIG PEPPERMINT!

Santa: Okay.

Ryan: Mrs. Claus! From now on, your new name is FRA DIAVOLO. Because you’re Italian, and you’re spicy, and want you covering me!

Mrs. Claus: (blushes)

Ryan: God damn, you are one fine looking Eskimo wop lady. Hey Big Peppermint, you hit that pussy every night? Do you? DO YOU FUCKING KILLLL THAT PUSSY?

Santa: Well, I…

Ryan: OHHHHHHHH! Oh! Oh, ol’ Minty has a big ol’ toy to deliver down that pussychimney! That’s some good pussy right there, old timer. YOU RESPECT IT.

(whips out chewing tobacco)

Chaw, anyone? Chaw? No? Okay. Now! The reindeer! Lemme get a load of these little hunks of venison.

Santa: Oh well there’s Dasher, and Dancer…

Ryan: What the fuck? Dasher and Dancer? What is this, a fucking Broadway play? Do these reindeer fly and suck cock at the same time? BULLSHIT. From now on, these reindeer are getting new names! Except Blitzen! I like the cut of his jib! The rest of them will be named Fucker, Killer, Hacksaw, Pussyblaster, Cockfrost, Axeman, and Blitzen 2! You got those names right?

Santa: Well, I…

Ryan: Next order of business. MIDGETS! El Minto, I heard you got some midgets working here.

Hermey: I’m a dentist!

Ryan: You’re a cumswiller is what you are, boy. Listen Santa, these little midgets are adorable. I’ll give you that. But they sure don’t look motivated to me!

(sniffs own armpit)

Santa: Well, there’s this big snow tonight, and I just don’t know if we can get our sleigh off the ground!

Ryan: You called the right man, Mintburger.

Santa: I didn’t call you.

Ryan: NOT IMPORTANT! Now, all of you listen to me. Peppermint. Deer. Midgets. Fra Diavolo spicepussy. I want all of you to gather round right now.

(everyone gathers)

Ryan: You think a little snow ever got in the way of a Rex Ryan team? You think my Jets would ever pussy out on a game because of Jesus’ confetti?

Everyone: No.

Ryan: Goddamn right, they wouldn’t. I wouldn’t let them. And I’m not gonna let you. People, there are two kinds of people in the world. People who say, “I can’t,” and fucking WINNERS. And midgets, but that’s neither here nor there. When I look around this room, I don’t see a bunch of crying pussies. I don’t see a group of people who are ready to give up before they even bother trying. That’s not what life is about. It’s not about quitting before you even start. You try, and go like Hell, and if you come up short, well fuck it. That’s the way it goes sometimes. WINNERS ARE NEVER FUCKING AFRAID TO FAIL. I don’t go by this REFUSE TO LOSE bullshit. You’re gonna lose sometimes. You’re gonna get your heart broken. BUT WINNERS ALWAYS FUCKING GO FOR IT ANYWAY. IN RAIN. SLEET. SNOW. HAIL. FROGS. WHATEVER. THEY ATTACK! THEY FUCKING KILLLLLLLLLLL!!!! ARE YOU FUCKERS READY TO FUCKING KILL?

Everyone: Yes.

Ryan: ARE YOU GONNA RIP A NEW CUNT IN THAT SNOWSTORM AND PLOW RIGHT THROUGH IT?

Everyone: Yes.

Ryan: SAY IT LIKE YOU FUCKING MEAN IT!

Everyone: YES!

Ryan: You are going to go out there, and you are going to fucking FLY. You are going to get this sleigh off the ground, and we are going to fucking ROCK THIS FUCKING CHRISTMAS. Then we’re all gonna go out for Abominable Snow Monster steaks and brandy! AND WE’RE GONNA FUCK SOME YETI TANG! And make gingerbread women and eat only their crotches! AND WE’RE GONNA TRIM THE TREE WITH HUMAN EARS! You fucking ready to do this?

Everyone: YES!

Ryan: Fucking bring it in.

(everyone brings it in)

Ryan: FUCKING KILL ON THREE ONE TWO THREE!

Everyone: KILL!

Elf: Holy crap, I want him to be Santa next year.

Ryan: You got it, Taquito.

Over the weekend Ohioans from all over the state descended on Cedar Point to enjoy the rides and take part in the celebration of Brady Quinn Day. For one special young lady the day provided an opportunity to stand by gasping for air while the love of her life walked past her. Fortunately the Sandusky Register was there to capture her reaction to such a thrilling close encounter.

You watch him on television every day? Seriously? On what channel? Has Quinn spent his off-season hosting The Goddess Hour on Lifetime? And really, what kind of 17 year-old obsesses over a middling professional athlete just because she happens to find him attractive?

/remembers infatuation with Anna Kournikova
//shuts up

Sandusky Register via Deadspin