Shutdown Corner has gameplay video of Madden ‘09, not due out until fucking August because fuck me, that’s why. Could do without “The Power and the Glory” shit. Normally I disdain people that get obsessARE THOSE NEW PLAYER ANIMATIONS AND CAMERA ANGLES!? Cause, really, it’s just a game and FUCK RANDY MOSS IS DOING THE SOULJA BOY DANCE! I’ve got more important things to do than I WONDER WHAT RATING RASHARD MENDENHALL GETS? HE BETTER BE ABLE TO BREAK SOME GAT DAMN TACKLES!

Films that the Patriots could use to predict the migratory cycles of birds and use them in their adjustments!

I just obtained a film of me taping the TV report about Lofa Tatupu getting busted for a DUI. I did it on behalf of the Patriots, so they can know what to expect from drunk linebackers in hoopdies in the future. Just because Belichick doesn’t get the videos from me personally doesn’t mean they don’t make it to him through the pipeline. They’re very intricate cheaters.

I’m taping you! Right now! What if I were to tell you this is for the Patriots, so they’ll know how you’ll react when you’re being told you’re being filmed to benefit the Patriots. It’s a limited but useful application, commissioner.

Just let me stay relevant a little longer. I can film myself groveling.

I feal the wolst is yet to come foll Hines this offseason. Now must auction arr thing flom lestaulant. Lestaulant is plide and joy when no pray footbarr.

U.S. judiciar system make Hines serr lestaulant fixture and lestaulant birding. Why? What is banklupt? Bank rook fine to me. Just when menu begin come togethell. Finarry get cheesebulgel that big enough foll man in Pittsbulgh.

No! You save for customel, prease!

So mindbrowing. This arr happen super fast whirr my mind is focus on having herp sterrpid tarr leceivel Rimas Sweed. Smirre is wash flom face these day.

He herpriss, I think. Rimas been leceivel in correge befoll and he stirr need herp. Such bad second lound pick. What he need me foll? I become leceivel super fantastic in no time at all and no even pray leceivel in correge.

STAND STLIAGHT, ASSWHORE!

First I terr him take numbell 14 jersey because peoperr in shitty rove Near O’Donnerr. He berieve this! So sterrpid.

I terr him make sule get at reast one foot on white rine that go alound endzone. He say in correge this count as out of bound. STERRPID, I say. This rook rike correge?

Okay, get you out of face. This is no ovel, Rimas. I be on you rike kimchi sauce!

I appreciate you ladies showing up for me here today. It’s a gesture that bespeaks your great concern for your fellow man.

The signed football was a great thrill. I mean it. I’ll treasure it for my remaining days. That cheer you did for me? Moving stuff. Kinda catchy, too.

But it’s not exactly what I had in mind.

You see, when my parents put in the call to the Cowboys’ public relations department, they told team representatives that it would be my dying wish to get to meet the Dallas Cowboys’ cheerleading squad. Can’t quite say that was inaccurate, but they left out a few small but significant details.

Nurse, would you give us a minute?

Now, over in the chair in the corner you will find a riding crop and a couple bottles of high-end lotion. I don’t think I need to explain what comes next.

Hey! Where are you going? No! Wait! Stop! Hey!

John Challis got to meet Ben Roethlisberger and Mario Lemieux and they had sex with him! It’s not like I have AIDS. I have cancer. That’s the new, hip terminal disease! Didn’t you see that South Park?!

I’m so close to the end and I just want to get laid one last time.

I have sex toys!

Jay Cutler, ever the font of priggish wisdom, has agreed to lend an ear to some readers’ most pressing problems.

About a year ago I stumbled upon this hidden folder on my husband’s computer featuring pictures of amputees having sex with each other. All of the pictures featured sexual scenes where the stump figured prominently in the interaction and there were at least close to a hundred of them. Okay, perhaps stumbled was wrong because admittedly I was prying, as his behavior has made me a little suspicious of late. This discovery has really freaked me out. He’d been volunteering at the VA hospital for the last year and what before seemed like a really selfless act now comes off as a fulfillment of a sick fetish. I find it hard to be intimate with him knowing what is really going on in his mind. Is there a way I can discuss this with him without losing his trust?

-Severed Connection

Your husband is weird.

I followed with great interest the recent news that you had been diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes. I myself suffer from the same condition. I’m on a fixed income so dealing with it is a real challenge. I spend about $115 a month on insulin and that accounts for about 15 percent of my income. Sometimes I have to cut my dosage from week to week to make sure I make it to the next paycheck. I know the risks, but it’s something I’ve learned to monitor and live with. Certainly someone of your status has been exposed to effective strategies and low-cost programs for dealing with the disorder. Any help would be greatly appreciated. And Go Broncos!

-Struggling with diabeing

Get more money.

Jay, this is your mother. Why haven’t you called? Yesterday was Mother’s Day, in case you forgot. And not just in humdrum Santa Claus, Indiana. Your father took me to a lovely brunch at the Holiday Inn and snuck out a few extra biscuits like old times. You loved those biscuits so, Jay. I know you didn’t like it when we made the big scene at that game last year, but it’s only because we were so overcome with emotion watching you play. You know how your father gets. Anyway, please give me a call. Because I’m your mother and I worry. You’ll never be too old for me. And I know you want these biscuits. Judging from photos, you are about due for dad to cut your hair again. WRITE SOON!

-Mama Cutler

Biscuits!

You steer me through the riptide of life
As a guiding star
There is never fear of strife
No matter where you are

When I’m up in some shit
You will never tarry
With no concern I get
Under four yards a carry

You are my best friend
A mom that’s truly hip
A love that never ends
Like a bag of Sun Chips

You mark my achievements
But don’t let me stand pat
Unless places convenient
To where the white women is at

You are the ground that I stand upon
You make everything right
Hey, what’s going on?
What are those flashing lights?

AAAH GOD NO
HELP ME MOM
MAKE THEM PLEASE STOP
I AM A HUMAN BEING

I HAVE RIGHTS
I HAVE RIGHTS
I HAVE RIGHTS
I HAVE RIGHTS

My name is Heath Shuler. I represent North Carolina’s 11th congressional district.

My scabs taste like honey mustard sauce.

I was taken by the Washington Redskins with the 4th overall selection in the 1995 NFL Draft.

I am a superdupergate.

As such, it is my responsibility to choose who will be our party’s nominee for the presidency.

Yesterday, the voters in my state sent an overwhelming mandate that the Democratic Party should be represented by Barack Obama in the general election.

That’s when I pulled something out of my patented bag of quarterback tricks and called an audible.

I sold my vote for Fun Dip.

During my days with the Redskins, there was this one game where I threw six interceptions. Worse than the usual five. President Bill Clinton was at RFK with First Lady Hillary Clinton, First Daughter Chelsea Clinton and a bunch of cool people who weren’t Gus Frerotte. Is he still in the league? Well, I’m still in Congress. Incumbency is harder to lose than a starting job!

Anyway, the president told me story about the time he met RFK’s brother and I laughed because stadiums don’t have families. Chelsea helped me get over the loss by offering Fun Dip. she must have remembered I liked it when she showed up in my office yesterday asking me to lick the powder off her breasts. She even gave me one extra package.

I will now spend the remainder of my term trying to open package.

In an interview with San Diego Union-Tribune, besides giving the photographer the laserface, Philip Rivers claims that his recuperation from his ACL injury is going swimmingly. Photoshop wunderkind LSUfreek has the lost footage of the one hiccup in the process. Hey, a Charlie Steiner sighting!

[Liberty City]

Niko: Heeelo, thees ees Niko.

Niko: But my cousin, he want play darts!

MarHar: You listen a’ me, ya Eurotrashole. You not be having a cousin if ya don’t get down ‘ere.

Niko: I vill come.

Niko: I thought things be better in thees county. I am doing same things as before.

[Playmakers]

MarHar: Ah, Niko, my bruddah. I’m having a problem wit one a’ my regulars. Been making trouble wit one a’ my girls. I need you to take care of him. Take dis.

Niko: You don’t think ees little obvious?

MarHar: Nonsense, bruddah! Who gonna tink quiet workmanlike receiver do anyting wrong?

Niko: Now to call MarHar.

[Phone rings, surprising Niko, who drops gun]

Niko: Sheeet!

Roman: What wrong cousin? Good time for darts?

Dan Snyder: Who is this “Iron Man” character who has done boffo business to the tune of $104 million over the weekend? I knew I should have listened to Ted Leonsis when he told me to invest in the kinetoscope. What is it about these popcorn movies that captures the imagination of the hoi polloi in a way that Johnny Rockets doesn’t? Damn their fickle, simple tastes! Ah, here, a synopsis of this insipid entertainment:

“An eccentric billionaire crafts a metal supersuit to save the world and his corporation from utter destruction.”

Hmm. You don’t say.

Cerrrrraaaaato!

Vinny Cerrato: Yesth bossth!?

Snyder: Bring me any such iron men you can turn up. And I swear to Xenu, if you come back with one more fucking deadbeat rapping receiver, you’ll wish I never plucked you from the obscurity of Largo Five Guys shift manager. Speaking of, pick me up some of those cajun fries while you’re out.

Cerrato: At onceth, sthir!

[Later]

Cerrato: Misthter Sthnyder, I believe I’ve found the Iron Men you stheek!

Snyder: What is this man saying? And where’s his suit? If only we had Chad Johnson around to translate.

Cerrato: I believe it is sthome sthort of doggerel about his home of Sthtaten Island.

Snyder: What else you got?

Snyder: Holy fucking shit. What am I supposed to do with Don Rickles?

Cerrato: Actually, it’s Cal Ripken, sthir.

Snyder: My God, that streak really took a toll on you.

Cal Ripken, Jr.: Actually, it’s the whoring for Comcast. They literally drain the lifeforce from me while filming those spots.

Snyder: You know what? We’re not getting anywhere with this. We need to be thinking toward the future. What movies are coming up? The-the-the-THE INCREDIBLE HULK! Yes! Get some of that superserum and inject that shit into Chris Cooley.

Cerrato: But sthir, that’s not stherum, that’s sthteroids.

Snyder: Serum, semen, steroids, whatever. Just fucking use it!