Much has been made of the New York Jets and their propensity towards drafting horrible football players. In recent years they’ve gone so far as to solicit advice from some bald asshole who graduated from some dumpy college that may or may not field a basketball team next season.

When the Jets drafted Vernon Gholston earlier this year it appeared that they’d at least mastered the art of selecting the most aesthetically pleasing candidate available, but recent events have cast doubt on that theory.

With next year’s Flight Crew roster one member away from being set the Jets decided to open up voting for the fans. The final three contestants have been put on display and the team is asking their fans to determine which of them will be fortunate enough to be rubbed up against at various public appearances over the course of the next year. Ladies and gentlemen Mouth-breathing gropers, here are your finalists.

And now for a word from the fans…

“Ever since I’ve rededicated my life to Christ I’ve caught way more persecution now,” he said. “But it’s a beautiful thing because I know it’s a breakthrough coming for me. I welcome it. What makes me any better than Christ? He was persecuted and I’ve been persecuted. My teammates know where my heart is. They know where my mind is at.”

It’s good to see Roy finding his inner-messiah. Hopefully he’ll continue to horse collar all of the non-believers into submission.

Bad MS Paint by Flubby

The Oklahoman via FanHouse

Int. N9ne Steakhouse Dallas, Texas

Tony: So things are all over with that K.I.T.T. guy?

Jess: Yeah, it turns out he was a car. Daddy says that it’s hard enough keeping my suck-u-lent-ly puckered asshole on the A list without being some kind of creepy objectophile.

[cellphone rings]
Tony: You got Romo

Joe: My man Anto-nio! This here’s Papa Joe, just checkin’ to see if you kids have left for dinner.

Tony: [sigh] Yeah Joe, we just walked in the door, is there something you need?

Joe: Aw shit, why’d you leave so early? Don’t you know that big stars like my sweet lil’ honeypot are supposed to show up twenty minutes late for everything? Are the photogs even there yet?

Tony: Why would there be any photographers Joe?

Joe: I might have faxed TMZ a three-page press release announcing your dinner plans.

Tony: And why the hell would you do something like that?

Joe: Because they stopped answering my goddamn phone calls, buncha self-righteous hacks.

Tony: Listen Joe, I’m willing to stuff your daughter’s taco with my chorizo, but you need to back the off, once and for all.

Joe: Alright ‘Tonio, whatever you say goes. I totally comprende, amigo.

[hangs up]

Jess: Say hi to daddy for me!

Tony: I already hung up, [under his breath] dumbfuck.

Obscenely Hot N9ne Hostess: You’re table is all set Mr. Romo, just follow me and feel free to check me out while I switch and walk.

[sits down]

Tony: So, what are you doing next weekend.

OHNH: Probably just sunbathing naked with my obscenely hot friends. So what are you up to, stud?

Tony: Not dating Jessica Simpson, for starters.

Jess: My ears are burning.

Busboy: Miss, please do not lean your head on the candles. They are there for ambiance, not heat.

[Jess sets her hair on fire]

Tony: I’ll get your number on the way out.

[OHNH exits, Busboy extinguishes fire]

Jess: So I don’t get it, what does N-9-N-E mean?

Tony: It’s just a clever way of spelling the number nine. I think the name comes from the age at which the two founders first met.

Jess: I still think N-Nine-Ne is a silly name.

[Joe appears out of the dark as if he's made of it]

Joe: Hi, my name is Papa Joe, and I’ll be your waiter this evening. Might I suggest starting off with a bottle of the Gamba Old Vine Zinfandel and an order of our shrooms?

Jess: Hi Daddy!

Tony: I have to get the fuck out of Texas.

The Cleveland Browns have been wondering exactly where the fuck their Pro Bowl tight end has been hiding out this offseason. Fortunately, our intrepid field reporters managed to capture a snapshot that shows our missing protagonist in action. Can you pick out the real Kellen from all of the impostors?

Not to worry Browns, Drew Rosenhaus is on the case!

Yeah assholes, why should he have to pick up the (SPRINT MOBILE!) phone and tell his coach where he’s at? For soldiers like Winslow, leaking such information could put his entire unit in danger.

Photoshop by Ape

Video via FanHaus FanHouse

Waldo image via JTrue

According to the top headline on NFL.com this morning, the Kansas City Chiefs “believe in Croyle.” And why wouldn’t an eternal optimist like Herm Edwards believe in the guy whose completion percentage fell just one and a half points behind the Tarvaris Jackson? Hell, one time he threw for 216 yards…in one game!

At KSK we’ve managed to get inside the collective head of the midwest’s most consistently mediocre franchise to see just what else the Chiefs believe.

The Chiefs believe…

that Kelli Croyle’s bountiful protuberances were crafted by their Christian God.

that Dad just went out for some smokes and will be back home anytime now

in the Great Pumpkin. Largely because they see Ryan Sims every day.

in evolution, except for the whole Triassic period.

that they can fly, that they can touch the sky.

that an R Kelly impostor is fucking 13 year-olds to hurt his album sales.

that John McCain will live another four years.

in the soul, the cock, the pussy, the small of a woman’s back, the hanging curve ball, high fiber, good scotch, and that the novels of Susan Sontag are self-indulgent, overrated crap.

But most of all, they believe in a thing called love…

…just as long as it’s between a man and a woman and it has nothing to do whatever the hell was in that video. They are Missourians, after all.

Int. Romo’s Living Room

[cellphone rings]

Tony: You got Romo!

Jason: Hello Anthony, it’s Mr. Garret.

Tony: Yo, J-dog, my man! You wanna go grab a few beers and wrangle up some low-quality tail?

Jason: Surely you jest, Anthony. As you well know, my time is far too valuable for such excursions. Besides, I do believe that philandering about town behind Jessica’s back would cause quite a distraction, something you can ill afford.

Tony: Ah, screw that, man. Jess has been getting all of these phone calls from some weird smooth-talking guy. I think she’s going to dump me, so I figure I better blow the whole thing up first. You know, gotta protect the rep’.

Jason: Indubitably. I’m sure you know best, I’ll let you get back to it then. Just please remember to review the changes in the playbook. The Annexation of Puerto Rico is quite simple for an Ivy Leaguer, but for those of us who matriculated through Eastern Illinois it could be rather complex.

Tony: Yeah whatever, broseph.

[Giggling sounds from the bedroom]

Tony: Hey Jess, are you actually talking to that wackjob with the accent again?

Jess: Shut up Tony, he’s more man than you’ll ever be. I don’t even want to see you anymore, I wish you’d just go home and stay outta my life!

Tony: This is my house you addlebrained cum-guzzler.

Jess: Whatever, you’re a loser!

Tony: Bitch!

[Jessica enters]

Jess: You can’t call me that, my new man is coming over here and his friend is gonna kick your ass!

Tony: Whate-

[loud crashing noise]

Jess: Oh KITT, I love you more than anything, and I wanna have your car-babies!

Sad but (supposedly) true, Tony and Jess are no more.

Big thanks to LSUFreek for the magic.

Tony Romo made a recent stop at Wrigley Field where he lead the crowd in a rendition of Take Me Out to the Ball Game. In a shocking twist that nobody saw coming, he was fucking terrible.

Clearly he’s trying to endear himself to the Simpson ladies. That performance showed the vocal range we’d expect from Jessica and all of the uncomfortable moments that make Ashley’s performances so special.

Harry Caray’s corpse has more charisma as of late.

video courtesy of Bugs and Cranks

Ext. Golf Club of Dallas

[cellphone rings]

Tony: You got Romo!

Jessica: Why do you answer the phone like that? It’s so stupid.

Tony: Hey Jess, I told you I was busy today.

Jessica: Why, whatareyou doin?

Tony: Well, I just knocked in a 20-footer for par on the first hole. 17 more of those and I’m on to the sectionals!

Jessica: Ugh, nobody cares about your bowling scores.

Tony: No babe, I’m playing golf. Don’t you remember last week at dinner when I told you I was trying to get into the US Open?

Jess: Well if it’s open, why don’t you just go in? Ohmygod! Are you watching The Hills?

Tony: No Jess, I’m in the middle of my round.

Jess: Don’t they have a tv at the bowling alley? I mean, there’s a Hillsmarathon on today. Gosh, I really wish I were back on tv. We should totally get a reality show!

Tony: Actually Jess, I meant to talk to you about that. I’m going to be on that HBO show Hard Knocks during training camp.

Jessica: Hang on, I wanna conference in Daddy on the call.

Tony: What are you fucking kidding me? I once watched you put KY jelly on your toast, how can you possibly know how to-

Joe: Go for Papa Joe!

Jessica: Hey daddy! You won’t believe it, I’m gonna be on another reality show!

Tony: Uh, not exacly…

Joe: What the hell are you talkin’ about? My sweet baby Jessica is the show god damn it!

Tony: Actually Joe-

Joe: Call me Papa Joe.

Tony: I’d rather not. Listen, the show is Hard Knocks on HBO, and it’s about the Cowboys, not me and Jess.

Joe: Are you kidding me? Don’t they know that each one of her milky white ta-ta’s is worth millions in advertising revenue?

Tony: It’s a pay channel, they don’t have advertisers.

Jessica: I just got the sexiest bikini ever.

Tony and Joe: I bet you did, sweet tits.

Jessica: Awww, ya’ll are cute.

Joe: Hell, if this is pay tv we can finally let those suckable nipples some camera time!

Tony: You see, this is exactly why HBO doesn’t want Jess on the show.

Joe: What, are those Hollyjewmo’s scared of some good ole’ home-suckled American fuck globes?

Tony: Her what-globes were suckled by who now?

Joe: Fine, don’t show the fun bags, I’ll save their debut for my retirement. But how about a quick sex tape on the last episode? You know, totally dark, all subtitled like. Classy, all the way.

Tony: Jess, can you believe this shit?

Jess: I know, Heidi’s such a bitch!

Joe: Listen Chico, if you don’t fuck my daughter on that show then I’ll do it myself.

Tony: I hate my life.

[fumbles tee]

You knew Bill Belichick wouldn’t rest until he wrapped his hands around that curvaceous, sex-starved, beauty… even if it does belong to another man.

It’s just like that time he fucked Coughlin’s wife!

Big thanks to the indomitable LSUFreek for the magic.

Our beloved game is under attack, and from an entirely unlikely adversary.

Canadia.

Our seemingly innocuous moose fucking neighbors to the north have struck a deal with the frost-bitten traitors of Buffalo, New York. All it took was $78 million Canadian (or 2,096,774 liters of pure maple syrup) for those Buffalonian Benedict Arnold’s to export our most precious resource across the border.

I can just picture those jabberwockies yukking it up in Toronto, and it makes me sick to my red, white, blue, and black stomach (don’t swallow black tar heroin unless it is sealed in a premium prophylactic). Some might consider this a small concession to our neighbors, or even a wise business decision on Ralph Wilson’s part, but I see it for what it is, an attack on our very way of life.

Before you know it our dollar will stabilize, universal healthcare will become a reality, politeness will rule the day, and all of our football games will be played on 120 yards of foreign soil. I, for one, will not stand for this. In support of our nation we must band together to stem the tide of the Canadian takeover.

It is with great pride that I announce my boycott of all things Canadian until our football games are returned unharmed. From here on out I will deprive myself of each of the following.

Canadian Whisky- No more Crown Royal with Royal Crown.
Canadian Bloggers- Farewell Skeets and Mutoni, hopefully this will be resolved in time for next year’s NBA season.
Canadian Strippers- I’ll miss you most of all.
Canadian Beasters- Forget what I just said about the strippers.

However, if none of this works I could be convinced to trade Buffalo the Canucks straight-up for that stripper chick.

Update: Our snowbound overlords have informed us that this post must be presented both of their official languages, English and French. So this is for all of you pea soup eaters…

Notre jeu aimé est sous l’attaque, et d’un adversaire entièrement peu probable. Canadia. Nos voisins foutus d’orignaux apparemment innofensifs au nord ont frappé une affaire avec les traîtres gel-mordus de Buffalo, New York. Tout qu’il a pris était le Canadien $78 millions (ou de 2.096.774 litres de sirop pur de érable) pour des ces Buffalonian Benedict Arnold pour exporter notre ressource plus précieuse à travers la frontière. Je peux juste décrire ces jabberwockies yukking le vers le haut à Toronto, et il me rend malade à mon estomac rouge, blanc, bleu, et noir (n’avalez pas l’héroïne noire de goudron à moins qu’elle soit scellée dans un prophylactique de la meilleure qualité). Certains pourraient considérer ceci une petite concession à nos voisins, ou même une décision économique sage sur la pièce de Ralph Wilson, mais je la vois pour ce qu’est il, une attaque sur notre façon de vivre même. Avant que vous le sachiez notre dollar stabilisera, des soins de santé universels deviendra une réalité, la courtoisie régnera le jour, et tous nos jeux du football seront joués sur 120 yards de sol étranger. I, pour un, ne représentera pas ceci. À l’appui de notre nation nous devons nous réunir ensemble pour refouler la marée du changement canadien. C’est avec grande fierté que j’annonce mon boycott de tout le Canadien de choses jusqu’à ce que nos jeux du football soient indemnes retourné. D’ici dessus hors de moi me priverai de chacune du suivant. Whiskey canadien pas plus couronne royale avec la couronne royale. Des ball-traps d’adieu canadiens de Bloggers- et le Mutoni, si tout va bien ceci seront résolus à temps pour la saison du NBA de l’année prochaine. Les décolleurs canadiens je m’ennuierai de vous surtout. Beasters- canadien oublient ce que j’ai juste dit au sujet des décolleurs. Cependant, si aucun du ce des travaux je pourraient être convaincus pour commercer Buffalo le Canucks droit-vers le haut pour ce poussin de décolleur.