Friday, June 29, 2007

Because We Can't Send You Away Without Some T&A

It's been a long week at KSK. The birthday celebration went off quite well if I do say so myself (and it's not like we've ever been hesitant congratulate ourselves). Seeing as how I'm still at work and I feel like I'm half-dead (the rest of the mafia is in hiding) I felt it was my duty to leave you with the regular Friday Cheerleader Post. So here goes, enjoy this hastily searched video from the YouTubes.



Have a great weekend ladies and gentlemen...

KSK Birthday Message: Drew Rosenhaus!

In just one short year we've become quite popular within the world of sports. On this, the anniversary of our birth, we are honored to share with you the love we've received from our most famous friends.





Thanks Drew!

This Week's Commenter Draft:
Who Would Play You In A Movie Of Your Life's Story


Face it, your life sucks. You weekdays are boring, you sleep through your weekends, and even your most eventful evenings are scattered among nights of cheap, fatty dinners and sessions of underhanded self-loathing. You are hardly redeemable as a human being. And we would know.

Fortunately for you (and for us), Hollywood never lets facts get in the way of bad cinema. The screenplay documenting your shitty existance, after a few focus meetings and a near-infinite number of re-writes, will be perfect for the silver screen. Remember the time you fucked that hot blonde in the back room at Piggly Wiggly? Neither do we! But there it is, on page 70, written out in all its artistic glory.

Today, good people, you are casting the person that would play you in this movie.

The Rules:

--You are picking this person as they existed IN THEIR PRIME.

Think Steve McQueen circa
The Cincinnati Kid or Adam Sandler circa Happy Gilmore. They do not have to be alive today.

--They do not necessarily have to be actors.

Most of you are going to fuck this up anyway, so go ahead and embarrass yourselves creatively.

--No one can be chosen twice, regardless of which era that person is taken.

For example, you could take Drew Barrymore from ET, or Drew Barrymore from Charlie's Angels. Not both. Again, some of you are stupid and will fuck this up. I apologize to both of our literate readers that naturally would have understood this.

--People back out of shit in Hollywood all the time, so take an understudy. Or six.

Don't let your movie go to shit because your main guy bailed two weeks before shooting to be the next General Zod. Get a backup, but wait 10 picks before doing so. Same as always.


With the first pick, I'll keep it contemporary and select the incomparable Don Cheadle. Black people are always cooler than white people. Plus, this guy could read a fucking Human Resources policy book and leave me transfixed. Fortunately, making my life interesting will be only slightly more difficult than that.

Get to it.

KSK Birthday Message: Norby Williamson!

In just one short year we've become quite popular within the world of sports. On this, the anniversary of our birth, we are honored to share with you the love we've received from our most famous friends.





Thanks Norby!

Thursday, June 28, 2007

KSK Birthday Message: Roger Goodell!

In just one short year we've become quite popular within the world of sports. On this, the anniversary of our birth, we are honored to share with you the love we've received from our most famous friends.





Thanks Rog!

KSK Birthday Message: Fred Smoot!

In just one short year we've become quite popular within the world of sports. On this, the anniversary of our birth, we are honored to share with you the love we've received from our most famous friends.





Thanks Fred!

KSK Birthday Message: NFL Europa

In just one short year we've become quite popular within the world of sports. On this, the anniversary of our birth, we are honored to share with you the love we've received from our most famous friends.



Cologne Centurions, we hardly knew ye. Enjoy oblivion.



KSK Birthday Message: Schrutebag!

In just one short year we've become quite popular within the world of sports. On this, the anniversary of our birth, we are honored to share with you the love we've received from our most famous friends.





Thanks Cowturd!

KSK Birthday Message: Brady Quinn

In just one short year we've become quite popular within the world of sports. On this, the anniversary of our birth, we are honored to share with you the love we've received from our most famous friends.




Thanks Brady!


We're not done yet

KSK Birthday Message: Pacman Jones!

In just one short year we've become quite popular within the world of sports. On this, the anniversary of our birth, we are honored to share with you the love we've received from our most famous friends.





Thanks Adam!

Stay tuned, we've got more to come throughout the evening

KSK Birthday Message: Larry Fitzgerald!

In just one short year we've become quite popular within the world of sports. On this, the anniversary of our birth, we are honored to share with you the love we've received from our most famous friends.



Thanks Fitty!

Stay tuned, we'll be bringing you more goodness well into the evening

Special Birthday Greeting From Name Of The Year

NOTE: This is a special name breakdown from the great stw at Name Of the Year. Enjoy!

Happy birthday, boys! Your names suck! None of you has it ``going both ways,'' as we like to say at NOTY. Though we're sure all of you go just one way: the way favored, by our count, by two NFL of the 20,482 players in NFL history (through 2005; unlike you, we do actual research), three if you count Jeff Garcia. Those are some tough hombres, eh? Did you know we recently elected a former New York Giant to the Hall of Name? Our man Moses Regular didn't have much game, but he has killer name. You pantywaists have nothing. Though we do love it when you post for us.

First Round
Unsilent Majority v. Christmas Ape:
Great. A fucking Nixon reference. Just what we want to see at the bottom of another post about the Wizards. Oh, wait. Wrong blog. And Christmas Ape. From ``The Simpsons''? No way! Because we enjoy that television program as well!
Winner: Unsilent Majority

Captain Caveman v. Big Daddy Drew: Another cartoon! Your command of popular culture never ceases to amaze! We'd like to think Drew was tapping into the nicknames of some of America's greatest sportsmen. Or perhaps paying homage to Africa's greatest dictator. But we're guessing Drew just really likes that dumbass Adam Sandler movie and/or—wait for it—``The Simpsons.''
Winner: Big Daddy Drew

Flubby v. Monday Morning Punter: Which of the Urban Dictionary definitions is it? Our money is on wishful thinking for No. 3. ``Monday morning whatever'' entered the realm of lame when you guys were jerking off to Saturday-morning cartoons (and we don't mean last week). It also reminds us of Easterbrook. Which of course we're guessing it's supposed to. So clever! But the surname saves it. Kickers rock.
Winner: Monday Morning Punter

Second Round
Unsilent Majority over Big Daddy Drew:
Because we're actually kind of amazed that any of you has a point of reference before 1991.

Monday Morning Punter over Bye: It's our fucking bracket.

Finals
Unsilent Majority v. Monday Morning Punter:
We'll let the commenters decide.

KSK Birthday Wishes From Michael Vick!


Oh, God.

Oh, man.

Where am I?

Is this a party? Where’s the beer? No wait, hold up. I just need some water. I’m really dehydrated. Is there water here? Is that a cake?


That's a nice cake. Man, I wanna stick my dick right in that cake. That would be a good cakeyfuck.

Pot is fucking great.

Is there any yogurt in here? Yogurt is fucking nice. Why is my arm bleeding? Fucking Mr. Home Depot don’t fix nothing right. Mustachioed asshole.

I think I need to just lay down and shit.

KSK Birthday Message: ESPN's Hashmarks blog!

In just one short year we've become quite popular within the world of sports. On this, the anniversary of our birth, we are honored to share with you the love we've received from our most famous friends.





KSK Birthday Message: Laurence Maroney!

In just one short year we've become quite popular within the world of sports. On this, the anniversary of our birth, we are honored to share with you the love we've received from our most famous friends.

Ummm... thanks?

KSK Birthday Message: Will Leitch

In just one short year we've become quite popular within the world of sports. On this, the anniversary of our birth, we are honored to share with you the love we've received from our most famous friends.





Thanks Will!

KSK Birthday Roast


While I would like to spend most of the day sucking myself off ESPN-style, repeated attempts during the course of my adolescence proved this to be an impossibility. I prefer self-flagellation to self-congratulation, and so I asked a handful of FOKSK’s (Friends of KSK. I just made that acronym up.) to send us messages of pure, raw scorn. Here now are their efforts.

Dan Steinberg:
You all make me feel dirty. But more than that, you make me feel ritually unclean. When I wander by your site, however briefly, you make me feel like I have just bathed in the collective sweat wringed out of the collective undergarments of the collective members of some Arena League 2 franchise from Arkansas or Mississippi or one of those tropical places. You make me wonder how we, as sports fans and Americans, have lost our way, and why our being lost necessitates so many filthy jokes and images of woebegotten young lasses. You make me yearn for the days when sports brought us joy and mirth, the days of serious, grown professionals like Jim Murray and Howard Cosell and Stuart Scott.

In conclusion, you all make me hate myself and all that I stand for. More than usual, even.

The preceding is dedicated to that Jew Unsilent Majority.

JE Skeets:


Awful Announcing:


DJ Gallo:
"Dear KSK -

Congratulations on your first birthday. You look so hot. I meant to give
you one birthday candle, but all I have is this one rock hard cock that
I'm pressing up against you. Enjoy!

-Joe Namath"

Will Leitch:
I formally congratulate Kissing Suzy Kolber on its year birthday; I
would have never made it through last year's NFL season had it not been
for you. To celebrate, I think you should undergo an unnecessary
redesign that infuriates your site's most fervent supporters. The sky is
the limit.

Nation of Islam Sports Blog:
Sirs,

It has come to our attention that your "blog" is currently in the midst of celebrating the one year anniversary commemorating your initial bowel evacuation on the blogosphere.

Can this be?

How can an assembly of untalented, insightless, poorly written, less than unfunny, obscenely offensive to the open eye, insensitive and routinely plagiaristic "men" possibly carve out a larger than "sad lonely fuck who habitually beats off to porn in his mom's basement and keeps a blog/diary that is read by two readers a day, both readers being said sad lonely fuck" presence on the net? How?

How can a group of "men" who engage in overtly homoerotic verbal heavy petting and linguistic gay orgies with each other leave a significant footprint in the world of SPORTS blogging? How can it not be that your "blog" posts about the hottness of Orlando Bloom or the machismo of Enrique Iglesias? How can it be that your "blog" is not an homage to the male delictability of Matthew McConaugay? Or a tribute to the musical styling of Mika? How?

Like the meaning of life, these are questions that can have no answers. And more pointedly, might have answers that induce vomiting.

So, on this occasion of auspicious consequence, we wish you hearty congratulations. And we pass you some toilet napkins so you might cleanse your expository opening to continue to treat the blogosphere like my Big Momma Rasheeda treats her Depends.

With Allah's Blessings,

NOIS

And here are cheerful rips from SlickBomb and Dave’s Football Blog. Thanks to all the roasters and extra special thanks to 289 for the planet KSK design. Let us have it in the comments.

KSK Birthday Message: Chris Berman!

In just one short year we've become quite popular within the world of sports. On this, the anniversary of our birth, we are honored to share with you the love we've received from our most famous friends, fans, and colleagues.





Thanks Boomer!

KSK Birthday Message: The Sports Guy

In just one short year we've become quite popular within the world of sports. On this, the anniversary of our birth, we are honored to share with you the love we've received from our most famous friends.





Thanks Bill!

KSK Birthday Wishes From Malcolm Gladwell!


One of the things that’s great about bukkake is that it follows my laws of stickiness. A sticky idea is one that sticks to anyone who comes into contact with it. And nothing’s stickier than a boatload of cum.

In many ways, it’s just like the recent outbreak of herpes in the greater Atlanta area. Bukkake is a popular social activity in many Atlanta neighborhoods. Which means that the herpes itself becomes sticky. This is an incredibly radical idea when you think about it, largely because it is my idea.

I asked 500 of my closest gay friends to come up with a number between one and 10. 75% of them chose 5. What does this mean? It means more people are getting abortions than ever before, but not for the reasons we might assume.

Again, it all goes back to the bukkake.

Congratulations, Gay Mafia. I got you this basket of Paul Mitchell styling products. It helps me always look like an 8th grader from 1972 in a constant state of surprise. Happy birthday, KSK. You’re okay, but Bill Simmons is better because he’s the only sportswriter I’ve ever read.

KSK Birthday Message: Tony Soprano!

In just one short year we've become quite popular within the world of sports. On this, the anniversary of our birth, we are honored to share with you the love we've received from our most famous friends.

KSK Birthday Message: J-Bug!

In just one short year we've become quite popular within the world of sports. On this, the anniversary of our birth, we are honored to share with you the love we've received from our most famous friends, fans, and colleagues.



Thanks J-Bug!

KSK Birthday Message: Jean Grey!

In just one short year we've become quite popular within the world of sports. On this, the anniversary of our birth, we are honored to share with you the love we've received from our most famous animal friends.


Thanks Jean!

KSK Birthday Wishes From Rex Grossman!


What is this, like a kiddie birthday party? With cake and punch and all that shit? That’s cute. You guys gonna play Pin The Tail On Donkey? Sounds like fun.

Your party is fucking gay.

When I had my birthday, we rented out a warehouse in downtown Chicago. Then we filled it knee high with baby oil and flew in nothing but Penthouse Pets. Did I shoot frozen ropes of Rexjelly all night long? I did indeed. I taught all of those girls and that zebra what a good, hard boning is. I like to fuck. It feels good. We had a raw bar and Queens of The Stone Age played. I don’t see any of that here. It’s not even a real party. You’re just fucking nerds online. I bet your “party” consisted of you heading to the shitter to jerk off. Sounds like a blast. Are you wearing tuxes to work today?

Faggots.

Someone go deep. I wanna give my armcock a workout.

KSK Birthday Message: Peter King!

In just one short year we've become quite popular within the world of sports. On this, the anniversary of our birth, we are honored to share with you the love we've received from our most famous friends.




Thanks PK!

KSK Birthday Wishes From Gregg Easterbrook!


Birthday parties were created in the early 1800’s as part of a pagan ritual. Today they have become overly excessive excuses to indulge children with materialistic baubles. Why, TMQ asks, do we not celebrate the person instead of the gifts? KSK, you were brought on this earth by your Lord and Maker, and it is best not to lose sight of that.

And, if you were wondering who the Lord and Maker is, it’s yours truly. I’m so fucking smart I can create matter simply by concentrating.

KSK Errs Near As Often As The August NYT: Often days like this are referred to as “Bukkake Days”, assuming the word bukkake means any sort of group activity. But it does not. Bukkake strictly means group ejaculation on someone buried neck-up in sand. It’s a very narrow definition. TMQ does not like straying outside of boundaries. It is unhealthy. We must follow them or risk being forever a lost generation.

Why O Why Are You Swearing?: TMQ has noticed an incredible amount of profanity on this website. TMQ appreciates that comedy is hard, largely because TMQ wouldn’t know funny from a raccoon’s asshole. But swearing is the lazy man’s way of getting a cheap, easy laugh. Surely, the comedy stylings of Bill Engvall have taught us swearing needn’t be necessary?


I’m Not a Creepy Old Man Because I’m Christian And A Deep Thinker: Today’s cheerbabes are Nikki, Jenny, and Charlotte. Because I only masturbate to partially clothed women instead of fully nude women, I can retain my moral superiority over all of you.

Happy Birthday, KSK. If you stay out past midnight, you’re contributing to the decay of society. There’s no need to assist the Jews in our eventual downfall.

KSK Birthday Message: Tom Brady!

In just one short year we've become quite popular within the world of sports. On this, the anniversary of our birth, we are honored to share with you the love we've received from our most famous friends.

Thanks, Tom!

KSK Birthday Message: Gene Upshaw!

In just one short year we've become quite popular within the world of sports. On this, the anniversary of our birth, we are honored to share with you the love we've received from our most famous friends.



Thanks Gene!

Wednesday, June 27, 2007

Tommorrow, We Get Drunk And Make Bad Decisions

Unless you're reading this post in the archives, you can see that we've ditched the Splinter Cell facade for the day and put on a little bling. It's conservative, sure, and a nod to a tradition and a history that we're doing our best to destroy, but we think it'll do the job of sprucing up our veritable Dick Joke Stadium for tomorrow's fuckworthy festivities.

As for your Sexy Sextet, we're ready to go. Drew and Flubby got babysitters. Ape locked Jean Grey in the bathroom. Even Ufford is limiting his interaction with women to text messaging and sensual glances. Tomorrow, we are bringing the fucking construda, bitches.

And we're bringing it all day, so be ready.

Looking Back Through the Months: a KSK Retrospective

The year was 2006. June, if I remember correctly. America was still reeling from the death of Aaron Spelling, and a nation of sports fans grudgingly accepted or loudly brayed against the World Cup. No matter what you did, somebody would claim that you fouled Dwyane Wade. It was a dark time.

Things were pretty shitty in my life, too. I had just bought this laptop with a no-longer-necessary engagement ring fund, and its very first use was to blog about some silly New York escapades that a handful of people from Deadspin enjoyed reading. This was back when your commenting name on Deadspin linked directly to a site, and not your most recent comments. We didn't even have avatars back then. We had to get by by making funny comments. Hard to imagine that's ever how it was, but it's true.

Eventually, the silly New York escapades came to an end, and I said, "Whither to now?" And lo, a guy named Drew who blogged about parenthood said, "Why don't we start an NFL humor blog? I haven't seen any good ones." And I said, "Okay." So we poached some other fellows from the Deadspin comments and started an NFL humor blog (We have still haven't seen any good ones).

We did, however, come up with the best name of any blog ever, and -- NOTE: gayness ahead -- this little website of dick jokes, animal snuff films, laziness, and NFL fandom has, honestly, changed my life. Simply because I spent a couple evenings sitting at home writing about the NFL, I got to quit my mind-numbing temp job to write a sports blog full-time. Now I work from home. Interaction with co-workers has been replaced by KSK email threads, which will eventually be seen as equal to the letters between Thurber and E.B. White. I often start drinking beer before I'm done with work. I make enough money to eat and pay rent, which is a nice change. And most importantly, I masturbate whenever I feel like it.

Anyway, if my sentiment is borderline maudlin, it's because our very first post was one year ago tomorrow. Yes, KSK's birthday is June 28th, and we're gonna have a big ol' party. Check in frequently, because we invited lots of people, and we're expecting some big names. And a lot of the people who couldn't make it sent us really nice cards, which we'll also be posting. It's gonna be a blast.

A bukkake blast.

KSK Guide to American Football For Pussified Countries Of The International Arena: Italy!

Now that the NFL has decided to start playing games abroad in an attempt to extend their global fanbase, we at KSK have taken it upon ourselves to begin a multi-part series schooling our international friends in all things NFL. Next up: Italy.

Saluti, gli italiani! I know you think we Americans are a slovenly, uncouth and boorish sort. We just don't seem to share your appreciation for the concepts of "La Bella Figura," "La Dolce Vita" and all that other shit with tons of vowels that just means looking good while being lazy.

As I've mentioned previously, I spent a semester in college in Siena, a small Tuscan town known for a horse race and people who pronounce C's as H's. As such, Coca Cola becomes Hoha Hola. It's amusing less than once.

American culture has a stranglehold on the population, but not in a eeriely interesting Japanese way. Italian rap is only to be listened to by the masochistic and the damned. This doesn't stop anti-Americanism from rearing its ugly, faux-hawked or greasy (depending on which variation of Italian pussybasket you're dealing with) head. I was accosted and almost jumped by five guys in Naples during the first week of the Iraq War. Praise be that I'm a total bitch and can run very fast. This should be no surprise; Naples is an utter shithole. I was clearly duped and I think it's because the Naples-as-shithole image has not been properly communicated to the prospective traveler. The only reason to go is to book it to the port to take a quick trip to Capri, whose sun is no more refreshing than any other. Naples is really the Baltimore of Europe, which means fewer ugly squat women with beehive haircuts but just as much crime.

Though American culture is rife in Italy, football doesn't seem like a natural fit for its countrymen, who typically prefer non-contact sports like smoking, bocce ball and living with their mothers until they're 40. Okay, they enjoy some contact.

There was, however, at least one incredibly grating sign that they're making an effort. My first month there, I had to watch the tape delay of the Steelers/Titans '02 divisional round playoff game -- y'know, the one where Dewayne Washington supposedly ran into Joe Nedney on the OT FG and forced me to kill again -- on the smallest bar TV in some Australian themed pub while a bunch of skeezy Sienese townies picked up the spoiled, slutty girls in my program (that's what I get for going with UMass-Amherst). Anyway, one fine ragazzo felt the need to inform me every few minutes throughout this nerve-wracking game that, "I like-ah dees game, dees football, but I no understand. Oooh, what was-ah that happensing?"

So, following that one guy's example, here's how the NFL will excite your pene. Remember: pene means penis and penne means pasta. Be sure to accentuate that second "N" for your waiter. You'll be glad that you did.

What You’ll Think Is Bello About The NFL:
-Roger Goodell may be evil, but he makes the trains run on time.
-Eric Mangini. Italian name, American waistline.
-League pleasantly devoid of Albanians or gypsys.
-Because of familiarity with vapid Italian television, Italians will actually find play-by-play announcers witty and urbane.
-NFL, like the Vatican, makes you feel guilty for everything you enjoy.
-Many small towns, including the one I stayed at, take siestas in the middle of the day. Residents of these towns will enjoy players like Plaxico Burress, who take large chunks of the season off.
-Kool-Aid Maroney's favorite drink a passable substitute for Chianti.
-Italian women are crazy for cheap sentiment, which is the NFL's stock in trade. Actually, Italian women are just crazy.

What You’ll Think Is Brutto About The NFL:
-Not enough communism.
-Far too little corruption for Italian standards.
-Stadiums don't play Paolo Conte.
-No team in Los Angeles, therefore Aria Giovanni doesn't attend games.
-Lots of moulies.
-Ravens style of play will remind Italians at first of catenaccio, but then they'll just realize it's only because their offense is dreadful.
-Women permitted to attend games, thus not at home cooking and rearing children.
-Italians refer to doggy-style as "alla pecorina" or, translated literally, sheep-style. This has nothing really to do with football, but only further serves to illustrate that Italians are ineffably odd.

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

KSK Guide To American Football For Pussified Countries Of The International Arena: Germany!


Now that the NFL has decided to start playing games abroad in an attempt to extend their global fanbase, we at KSK have taken it upon ourselves to begin a multi-part series schooling our international friends in all things NFL. Next up: Germany.

Guten tag, herrs and hausfraus! If there is one nation on the European continent eager to embrace American football, it is you, fair Germans. With your love of sausage, your dormant-but-still-present hankering for fascism, and your unnecessarily intricate language, the NFL is custom-tailored to you, the German viewer! It’s why 135% of all NFL Europa teams play in the Fatherland.

I’ve been to Germany twice. Actually, that’s a lie. I’ve been to Bavaria twice. Bavarians, of course, consider themselves their own nation. It’s just like South Carolina, only it has a more successful history in ethnic cleansing. Touring Munich, I was wowed by its natural beauty and hideous population. There are so many dorks in your country, o Germans, I thought I had wandered into a Magic: The Gathering convention. Have none of you heard of contact lenses? I also visited a Munich cabaret. Americans might think a cabaret is the same as a strip club. It is not. You pay 10 euros to watch a semi-attractive German possible she-male dance around for 20 minutes before finally taking her top off, then scurrying off immediately thereafter. On the strokability scale, it ranks a solid negative 2! One of the dancers we saw there had nipples the size of saucers. Huzzah!

I also went to Dachau. Unfortunately, I went during lunch hour and had had no breakfast that morning. Ever try and eat a turkey sandwich and chips in the middle of a concentration camp? You will not have a more awkward ethical argument with yourself.

In my travels, and from watching “Top Secret!”, I learned many things about how to sell the NFL to you Deutsch folk. Read on, and you’ll discover why the NFL will make your schnitzengruben nice and firm.

What You’ll Think Is Gut About The NFL:
-Tom Coughlin
-Ugly Minnesota Vikings offense inspired by German architecture
-No Jews
-Philadelphia Eagles defensive coordinator Jim Johnson, who loves blitzes nearly as much as Rommel did
-Armchair quarterbacking perfect for Germans, who believe they do everything better then everyone else in the world
-Fat, loud asshole Chris Berman could pass self off as German
-Patriots coach Bill Belichick, like Ralph Fiennes in “Schindler’s List”, also enjoys standing on a tower and picking off women and children one by one
-“You Got Jack’d” segment mimics techniques of numerous Tom Twyker films
-League totally lacking in anything resembling humor
-Elaborate, overthought game plans inspired by German car engineers who can design a 600 hp BMW but can’t design a way to turn the LCD display off
-All coaches poorly dressed
-Frequent, attacking nature of game allows catharsis for the raving Imperialist lurking inside every German
-Cheerleaders made according to German purity laws
-Uniform pants not quite as much like lederhosen as NHL pants, but still darn close
-NFL team owner tradition of viewing games from box purposely echoes Hitler’s Olympic viewing technique
-Large number of black players perfect fit for the land of chocolate
-NFL Films head Steve Sabol is a second cousin of Leni Riefenstahl

What You’ll Think Is Scheisse About The NFL:
-Beer vendors unfamiliar with radler drink will refuse to pour Sprite into your beer. You homo
-Polka not played during halftime show
-Possible future NFL regular season game in Munich increases likelihood of obnoxious American tourist throwing up on your sister's durndel at the Hofbrauhaus
-No Hasselhoff
-Games played during crucial “coffee and cake” portion of day
-Players only come in helles or dunkels varieties
-Time-consuming nature of games robs Germans of favorite pastimes such as: laughing at own jokes, wearing colorful sweaters, and driving 150mph down a two-lane highway
-No sprockets. No dancing.

Tailgate Options:
I suggest an all-wurst tailgate for you, including bratwurst, weisswurst, cheddarwurst, wurstsalad, wurstsoda, wurstsauce, wurstdogs, and wurstcakes. Tailgate entertainment can be provided by Lily von Schtupp, the Teutonic Titwillow.

I hope you found this lesson both fun and utterly pedantic. Heil Germany and the NFL!

Al Harris And Coverage

We've been going through the thousands of submissions you've sent us for the FF contest, and, in a interesting reversal, it has been US enjoying YOUR work over the last couple of weeks. Your pics and stories have been most entertaining, and we would be remiss if we did not share the ones that didn't suck the love. We will continue to accept entries through the weekend.

This submission comes from Muffmaster C, and rather than prattle on, I'll simply give him the floor:


I know that I have exceeded the mandated 250 word count, but I think it will be worth your while:

Being from the Chicagoland area, I venture up north to Wisconsin a couple times a year to get fall-down drunk and harass the degenerate cocksuckers that are Packer fans. Last summer a couple buddies and I made the trek to Manitowish Waters (imagine “The Great Outdoors” sans the lonely, but fuckable local girl) and hit up one of the many dive bars that plague this bastard child of a state.

Sporting orange and blue we waltz in like we own the joint and get more dirty looks than Isaiah Washington at a Gay Pride Parade. As the booze starts flowing, so do our overtly loud comments regarding Brett Favre’s drug dependencies and Charles Martin’s demise (isn’t karma a bitch). From the back of the bar someone yells, “At least our coach isn’t a limp dick, boner pill hustler.”

The moderately-sized crowd parts like the Red Sea and there stands a Rastafarian looking d-bag sporting flip-flops and socks. Not recognizing this guy, Dan (part of our crew) fired back with “I loved your work in 'Cool Runnings'.” At this point, Ziggy Marley realizes that we are a bunch of drunk assholes, mutters “Eat a dick” just loud enough for us to hear and gets back to his game of pool.

We polish off a few more rounds and we hear people saying something about Al Harris. Simultaneously we all realized that Douchey McRaggae was none other than the aforementioned Packers cornerback. Relatively shitfaced, we wrap at the bar and take one last parting shot as we walk out the door, “Harris, you get beat more than a red-headed step child.”

And as we walk by the floor-to-ceiling window in front of the bar we hear a knocking sound and see Al Harris drop his pants, slap his dong on the glass and flip us off while nodding like a bobble-head. Bewildered and thinking we’re about to get our asses kick by a professional athlete we all ran like girls made a clean get away without a confrontation.

I wish I could have told you that Al was molesting farm animals with some teammates, but the Packers hadn’t drafted A.J. Hawk yet.

Thanks, Muff!

Monday, June 25, 2007

Do you like movies about gladiators?

Young Willy Leitch never forgot his chance

encounter with Peter King.




KSK Travel Guide:
The 10 Best US Cities To Masturbate

Travel season is here, and that means shelling out lots of cash for you and your significant other to spend a week someplace insignificant (really, you can sleep 'til noon anywhere), spending your day doing mundane crap that might look like fun, I guess, if you're some 40-year-dipshit that lives within the glossy confines of some pamphlet photograph. And after a week of all that, you'll be lucky to get one night of sex out of the ordeal. Who calls that a vacation?

Suppose you just want to blow town for a weekend, possibly because you're not getting blown yourself? Why go through the trouble of bringing someone along when, at the end of the day, you're just waiting for them to go to sleep so you can jerk off in peace? Where's the time for ménage à moi? Shouldn't that be the focus of your hard-earned hiatus?

Well, now it can be. Pack your bags, book your ticket, and tell that ungrateful little tramp that you're flying with Han Solo this summer. Once again, we've got you covered, as your compadres in hand present to you The 10 Best US Cities To Masturbate.

1. Fort Lonesome, Florida

History is rich in Fort Lonesome, where the villiagers' ancestors did battle with the Spanish, led by the famed commander Wild Tyler Johnson. As you wander these ancient grounds, prepare yourself for some hand-to-gland combat when you visit the Seminole War re-enactment past the old mill near Booger Man's corner. Stop by the locals' favorite seaside diner, Sailor Ned's, for a heaping bowl of homemade chowder. Work at your own speed as you enjoy the long rows of shops and get a taste of the town's favorite dessert, Fingers and Cream. Before the day is out, cap your night with a pale ale at Willie's Pub. If you're up for a quick visit, engage in a dishonorable discharge in the handicapped stall of the men's room, and then work up a foamy lather in their newly remodeled sinks!

2. Dry Prong, Louisiana

Explore the wilderness in the Deep South in this old town that was held in the palm of Union hands through much of the Civil War. Butter your corn as you dine in a private booth at Diamond's Grill in the renovated Schnack's Warehouse, where the chicken is choked twice each day (they even churn their own butter!). Stroll through the town square to the back of City Hall and meet Mr. Stickeykeys, the only mayor of Dry Prong since 1988. Spend your twilight enjoying the Longleaf Pine forests and drive past the nearby hardwoods entering Alexandria. She loves an audience.


3. Come by Chance, Newfoundland

Located on the Avalon Peninsula, Come by Chance exports more fish from its shores than half the eastern seaboard. Which half? We don't know. Watch as local villagers drill for oil near the North Atlantic Refining Company, which can handle 115,000 barrels in a single day, and doesn't employ women under 50. Due to the rich fishing economy, seafood has been banned from the Avalon Peninsula since the 1950s, but find yourself still within reach of maritime necessities, such as dolphin wax and two-toned trout sauce, at the local Purple General Store. All this and more makes Come by Chance one of the 10 best US cities to masturbate!

4. Left Hand, West Virginia

Shooting north of the Bible Belt, this West Virginia village boasts one of the most devoutly religious populations of the Midwest. At nearby Ohio Valley University, students are required to wrestle a stiff load that includes one Bible class each semester. Bishop Thomas, the faculty president, challenges the incoming students each year to his annual armwrestling copmetition, held discretely in the confines of his office, to see if the young ones have what it takes to "beat the Bishop." The spring semester is concluded when the student body performes its traditional performance of "Much Goo About Nothing."

5. Blue Ball, Pennsylvania.

Just a toss from Left Hand sits another must-see destination along the southern Pennsylvania border. As you stroll through this Amish town, you may find yourself in the back of one of the open furniture warehouses, varnishing the banister. Good deals can be reached on these custom-built crafts if you can find a shop that happens to be liquidating its inventory (you may have to exercise the negotiator to get the best deal, those Amish can be quite stingy). Make a trip during the holiday season and you could be spending your Christmas bonus on a brand new hand-made one-person love seat, just for you.

Rounding out the top ten:

Dripping Springs, Texas; Last Chance, Colorado; Protection, Kansas; Hell, Michigan; and Man I Love Jerking Off, North Carolina.


Brady Quinn Can Make Your Eyes Bleed Before Even Playing A Down


Reader Kofi Annan has decided to combine two of our favorite pastimes - shitty MS Paint jobs and blatant gay-baiting - into one brilliant image. He writes:

Fuck you all; if you don't like it you can go suck bradyquinn's dick.

That former UN ambassador has some moxie, I tell you. It almost makes up for spending years running a completely corrupt and useless organization that exists solely to shamelessly exploit city parking permits. Fucking diplomats.

Sunday, June 24, 2007

Koolaid Maroney Really, Really Wants U To Wash U Ass


The truly great Barstool sports was way ahead of us on the Koolaid Maroney phenomenon. They are real, live MySpace friends with Maroney, and from his MySpace page (is this guy great with social networking our what?), they have procured a gallery of pics that shame the last batch. Folks, when Koolaid tells you to wash u ass, by God he means it. He used the whole roll! Click on the link for the full effect, plus some amazing pics of receiver Chad Jackson as well, but here are some of the choicer ones, including... The Koolmobile.



I know what you're asking. and the answer is yes. That IS a matching Koolaid bracelet. Bad. Ass.

I love this man. I really do. If you don't love Koolaid Maroney, you molest puppies.

Friday, June 22, 2007

Cheerleader Twins: A Duet of Pleasures

Reproductive genetics is a tricky little dance and, like most dances, shouldn't be attempted by white people. The slightest chromosomal misstep, and you end up a nasty grab bag of maladies and deformations such as Turner Syndrome, Klinefelter's Syndrome, cri du chat, or Matt Millen Brow.

Occasionally though, God rolls the die, an egg splits in twain and out pop a pair of comely cheerleaders. Such is the case with Larisa and Marisa, a pair of cheerleaders for the Texans, who need all the activation of their cheerleader twin powers to make Houstonians put down the lean long enough to pretend to care about their tragically uninspiring football team.



Thing 1 and Thing 1

Of the various horrors parents can visit upon their children in the naming department - we can name a few - the similar rhyming names for twins is among the worst.


As I imagine the case is with most identitical twins, Marisa and Larisa are into essentially the same stuff - shitty AFC South teams, hoping to teach middle school math - but with slight distinctions: Larisa likes stars, Marisa likes starfish; Larisa's favorite teevee show is "The Price is Right" (there goes her future as a Barker Beauty), Marisa's is "Wheel of Fortune"; Larisa likes inauthentic Tex-Mex chain Pappasito's, Larisa takes her cousin Gino to the Olive Garden.

So, you see, these twins are all alik---

WHAAAA

Favorite ice cream flavor: Larisa’s favorite ice cream is dutch chocolate with Hershey’s syrup. Marisa’s favorite ice cream is homemade vanilla.

Marisa is clearly the evil one. Who likes homemade vanilla outside the Flanders flock?

The Texans web site has a video profile of the two - of course they get shoehorned in together while all the other members get one to themselves. Look what you hath wrought, Coors Light commericials.