-I had a stomach virus on Friday night. This excited me thoroughly because I figured I'd be sick all weekend, which would leave me free to watch all 4 games in bed, help myself to all the Scweppes ginger ale and toast with jam I pleased, and masturbate every hour on the hour. Instead, I was healthy by Saturday morning but had passed on the virus to Mrs. Drew, leaving me to care for both her and the Girl. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: God is the biggest hater of them all.
-Can we get Bill Belichick some fucking sunglasses? The guy has won multiple championships and is considered a brilliant strategic mind by football people and even business leaders, yet it never occurs to him to have some piss boy bring him a pair of Ray-Bans? What a fucking moron.
-I see that Diet Pepsi is the official soft drink of the NFL. Here's a question: WHY? Is the average NFL fan also suffering from menopause? Diet Pepsi ads belong in the mid-day media buy along with ads for tampons, anti-aging cream, and detergent. When I go to a bar to a watch a game, there's a maximum of one person drinking a Diet Pepsi there, and it's usually the one fag who offers to be the designated driver and then actually follows through with NOT DRINKING. I hate people like that.
-I've decided Lovie Smith looks like OJ Simpson. And he's married to a white woman. And he has an eerily calm demeanor to him. I bet he totally likes golf. I know you probably think I think all black people look alike. But I can't help that. Malcolm Gladwell says that's, like, science and shit. Besides, black people are dark, so it's harder to see them clearly. Don't shoot the messenger.
-And while I'm being racist, James Brown in HD looks like Dr. Julius Hibbert.
Mrs. Simpson, I'm afraid your husband is dead. Ho ho ho, April Fool's!
-If I could rid the world of one annoying thing about pre-game shows (and the range of choices here is fucking staggering), it's the "let's all gather on a 5" x 5" piece of Astroturf here in the studio, take off our jackets, and reenact plays!" thing all the analysts do. Siragusa did it DURING THE GAME on Saturday night.
Here's a quick note to all the former player analysts out there: GIVE IT UP. You are no longer an active player. The dream is over. Take the broken shards of what remains of your life and go have a good long cry over it, you worthless bunch of Gavin fucking Greys. There aren't scouts watching you. You are old and unwanted now. Younger men have taken your place. And, no matter how hard you try, you will eventually be forgotten and horribly crippled by age 45. I don't need to see you lining up in a three technique. Go somewhere and die with a whimper. Dipshits.
I was the number one star! In the world! You hear me? Bang! In the wooooorld!
-I know we poke fun at Rex Grossman now and then on this site. But seriously, he's by far the most entertaining quarterback the Bears have had since Jim McMahon. Bears fans, c'mon. You really want to bench the Sex Cannon for Brian Griese? Where's your sense of adventure? Griese is like the missionary position. Grossman is like being blindfolded and tied to a tire swing. Sure, you may die. But you were seizing the day by its balls, dammit!
-Rubber floors, Bud Light? I'm waiting for the follow-up ad where the beer that bounced off the rubber floor detonates like a goddamn H-bomb when someone opens it. That'll get you a quick visit with Dr. James Brown.
-I have often wondered to myself why I hate Peyton Manning. Whenever I watch the Colts play, I root against him with great fervor. But why? Peyton Manning is a nice person who studies his ass off, plays hard, usually exhibits class on and off the field, and runs an incredibly entertaining offense.
And I think the reason I hate him is because, through no fault of his own, Manning has been afforded every opportunity in life to succeed. He was likely made quarterback of his team from grade school on, with access to all the resources he could possibly need to improve every step of the way. Which is fine. I have no issue with that. More power to him. What I do have a problem with is, when Manning does falter, people in the media still go out of their way to cut him slack. And he doesn't fucking need it. No one hates the coach's kid, they hate the unnecessary coddling of the coach's kid. The guy's already got it made. Let him sweat a little, for shit's sake. And if he mentions even the faintest hint of an excuse himself, it's all the worse. Peyton Manning, you are Homer Simpson to my Frank Grimes. I bet you had lobster for dinner last night. Blow me.
And get some moisturizer while you're at it. You'll have Edward James Olmos' complexion in ten years, douchebag.
-(NOTE: This doesn't mean I'm rooting for New England Sunday. I'm rooting, of course, for a tragic blimp accident.)
-If someone out there could get Tony Siragusa a nice tall glass of shut the fuck up, I'd appreciate it.
-The Internet ruined Joe Buck for me. Not to say I was some Joe Buck groupie before. But the game would come on and I'd think, "Oh hey, Joe Buck is calling the game. Okay. You know what's underrated? Egg salad." That is to say, he never actively bothered me. I know the whole Moss thing was annoying, but Buck basically had to pooh-pooh the whole thing as part of the Fox Hypocrisy Training Seminar Program. And I know Red Sox fans have long hated Buck. But Red Sox Nation can eat a fat dick. I still didn't mind the guy.
Of course, the more I read about what a smug prick Buck is, the more inclined I am to notice any haughty douchebaggery he may emanate during the broadcast. So now I'm watching the Bears-Seahawks game and all I can think is, "God, I hate that asshole." Same thing happened for me with Joe Morgan. Damn you, ebays! Stop uncovering the truth about people!
-At the end of Jackass 2, everyone shaves their pubes and tricks Ehren McGhehey into gluing the pubes onto his face as a fake beard. That's the first thing I think of when I see Dick Stockton's hair.
-For comedic purposes, it's hard not to pull for a Bears-Colts Super Bowl. Then again, if you like watching entertaining football, there's really only one way to go: Go Saints.
ONE LAST NOTE: To anyone who would dare make fun of the fact that Prince is playing the halftime show at the Super Bowl, die. Prince fucking rules. I am fucking psyched. If he plays "I Could Never Take The Place Of Your Man," I'm gonna have a mangasm.