As I’ve indicated before on my blog, my best friend from college lives in Cincinnati and is a die-hard season ticket-holding fan of the Bungles, the Beagles, the PUKE-ITTY SUCKY SUCKS or any other manner of names I’ve thrown at him over the past 15 years (and now that I have just done that math … HOLY EFFIN’ BLIPPITY BLIP BLOOP, I’M OLD!).
He sent me a text last Tuesday asking if I could get him tickets because he wanted to come visit to see the Bengals/Steelers game.
I of course responded in my standard class-ay fashion:
It ended up being that he got called away on a business trip and wasn’t able to come for the game. When the final whistle blew, I was sure I would be hearing from him via text or email, letting me know that NEENER NEENER NEENER. But it didn’t come. All day. I thought perhaps I had escaped the taunting, but being evil like he is, he ever so softly tagged my facebook wall when I wasn’t looking:
Like I said, I’m a classy broad.
Let’s talk football.
1. Jimmy Fallon can die.
Bringing up the stupid Madden cover and the Madden curse just when Troysus finally seemed to shake it and BAM! Injured again.
Look how scared Troy is just being in the same room as that cover!
I suggest that Madden 2011 have Tom Brady and a flock of pigeons on the cover. And Marian Hossa.
2. Rashard Mendenhall came back to Earth after several weeks on Cloud Bettis, running for just 36 yards. Meh.
3. I would just like to take a moment to talk to the ladies about how nice it was when Greg Warren screwed up the field goal snap a bit, forcing Daniel Sepulvedanomnom to have to make a grab for it before setting it, forcing the NFL to show us a nice slow-motion replay where we got to look at Daniel’s body and his nice hands and arms for an extended period of time, especially if you paused and played the already slow motion replay in additional slow motion, and then we got to watch him on the sidelines talking and smiling and just being nom-nomable. Gosh. I love football. Group hug.
Okay, let’s let the guys back in the room.
4. Benny, Benny, Benny, wherefore art thou fair King of Quarterbackylonia?
Were’st thou so mad with schizophrenia that thou didn’t know whether to throw the ball or not thus resulting in sacks and interceptions?
Were’st thou engaged in frivolities with the village wenches?
Werest thou angered and thusly unfocused because you were tackled by your penis?
Were’st thou distracted because thou was busy waiting for thou’s leapfrog partner?
Hey, I didn’t know Logan was a little person! Man, you learn something new every day.
I don’t know what happened (I suspect it had something to do with a dismal O-line), but I miss our king and he better be back ruling with a pump fake by next week lest I start hating his fug, gross guts again.
Does that make me fickle?
5. James Harrison lost his cool and punched a guy for no reason other than to punch a guy. Stay classy, James.
6. Jeff Reed managed to both score all of our points AND make a complete ass out of himself once again by missing a tackle while looking like a chunky gerbil trying to chase down a puma.
Did I hit that nail on the head or what?
Let’s take a look.
Here we have our fat gerbil and our puma. Note the gerbil is looking in the opposite direction of the approaching puma and is running AWAY from the puma.
I can’t even be sure what’s going on in the gerbil’s mind at this moment, but I imagine every third word is slut or maybe “It’s Electric! Boogie woogie woogie.”
Now, here the puma has overtaken the gerbil and once again, the gerbil is looking and running AWAY from the very puma he is to be pursuing:
This is confusing. Does the gerbil just not give a damn about the puma?
And finally, the gerbil is concerned he might be having a heart attack from the exertion he put forth in pretending like he wanted to catch the puma:
Whew. Someone get that boy a Gatorade.
So, reader carpetbagger has an idea and that is this, why doesn’t Daniel Sepulvedanomnom kick off?
Can you guys answer that for me? Is a punter incapable/not allowed to handle kickoffs?
Anything would be better than this sexed-up gerbil, considering how dismal our special teams are at not letting the runner get as far as the kicker.
7. I can’t handle this losing to the Bengals shit. I really can’t. And losing in this fashion — the complete utter lack of an offensive touchdown. It’s embarrassing.
Something needs to be fixed and Mike Tomlin best get to fixing it.
8. Finally, if I ever write a children’s book called The Fat Gerbil and The Puma, in the end, the puma will eat the gerbil and the forest will cheer and fairies will dance.
And finally finally, The Sexed Up Gerbils would make a fantastic punk rock band name.