Fictional Cheerleader Biography: Laura

This is lovely Laura of the Buffalo Jills cheerleading squad.

Laura joined the Jills after a couple of stints in rehab helped her kick a nasty morphine habit. It all started back in high school when the young cheerleader tried to gain favor with the football team by offering her body up for a gangbang. Sadly the petite youngster's body was overmatched, and she was on the receiving end of the full log-splitter treatment. After a handful of surgeries to repair her pelvis and few months in the hospital she was ready to return home, now equipped with a raging drug addiction, sore labia, and enough self-loathing to make an anorexic chick seem prideful.

After a few years the scars healed and the addiction was downgraded to "recreational habit." Once Laura joined on with the Jills even the self-loathing began to subside. Now the cheerleader is a productive member of society once again, and she's looking to improve her self-worth further by bagging a pro football player. But what finely tuned athlete would want any part of those damaged goods? The answer came in the form of a punter, Brian Moorman to be specific. They clicked immediately after meeting at a rally for Ron Paul and things progressed from there. The two are expecting twins this summer and doctors expect them to fly through the birth canal with the ease of two bullets speeding through an empty hallway.

Of course none of this is actually true.

Image via Professional Cheerleader Blog

KSK Free Agency News and Notes

At KSK, we're painstakingly committed to creating a list of all the barely relevant early free agency transactions, losing that list, then reporting the results from memory.

• Gus Frerotte and Isaac Bruce released by the Rams. Who will Gus start two games for next season? You know some hapless team will pick him up and it will be long before David Carr and Byron Leftwich get a look. That's right, Drew, get that Frerotte's Fr'real shirt back from Mottram.
  

• Tedy Bruschi decided to come back for one more season as a Patriot. Having already lost out on Zach Thomas sweepstakes, having Bruschi calling it a career would've put the Patriots below the number of required white linebackers as laid out in the charter of the Commonwealth of Massholia.
  

• The Browns signed Horse Balls to a long-term deal! Brady Quinn doesn't think it so FABULOUTH.
  

• The Chiefs let Ty Law go, only to watch his wheelchair careen wildly down a steep hill. Fuckers.

• The Vikings signed Madieu Williams, a former member of the Bengals secondary, for $33 million. Which is only slightly less disturbing than having two former Terps in your starting D.

• Jets trade for Kris Jenkins, trade away Jonathan Vilma to Saints. Wow, that's a lot of players who used to be good.
  

• Kawika Mitchell signs with the Bills, but really, they just want his ring.

• Jerry Porter to the Jaguars. So, naturally, the Jags are still looking for a receiver.
  

• The Redskins, meanwhile, are expressing interest in possibly signing former Seahawks receiver D.J. Hackett.

Says flubby: "Wow, do they have enough lights on the scoreboard to record all the points that Hackett and Reche Caldwell are going to score?"

Well, if not, that big stupid marching band they have can always form a zero.

KSK Mock Draft: The Best Fruit for Your Deserted Island

Not every mock draft can be something awesome, you know. There are only so many variations of the theme "Breasts We'd Like to Touch" before things get stale and we have to mix things up. We crave intellectual stimulation, don't you know.

Earlier this week, we saw this image on XKCD...

...and it sparked surprisingly passionate responses from the crew -- "Cherries should be closer to difficult." "Green apples over red apples?" "I fucking HATE seeded grapes." Thus spawned quite possibly the lamest (and, ironically, most contentious) mock draft we've ever had: the fruit draft.

The scenario: You are on a deserted island. There is enough fish and local game to provide you with regular nourishment, but food is not so bountiful that you can enjoy a constant, sated comfort. However, you will have an unlimited amount of the fruit you draft -- and ONLY the fruit you draft -- to supplement your diet. You also have the necessary tools (knife or whatever) to eat your selected fruit. Per an inquiry from Drew, the presence or lack of alcohol on the island should not be part of a fruit's consideration. In addition, draft participants were asked in advance not to be a pain in the ass by ignoring the intent of the draft, namely by doing something clever like taking "honey crisp apple" once red apple and green apple were off the board, or selecting "Jeff Garcia" for a cheap, obvious laugh. Most of us followed these guidelines.

Two rounds. Serpentine order. Go.

1. Christmas Ape: Peaches

"I dislike melons to the point that they, especially cantaloupe, cause me to vomit after only a few bites. The coconut would be fun to throw, but seeing as how the island is deserted, that joy is lost. Leaving aside the Nic Cage Face/Off jokes, I can indeed eat a peach for hours."

2. flubby: Grapes

"Let me preface my first pick by commending Drew on picking one of the draft topics submitted to us by the AARP. What were the runners up? Favorite cast member of the Lawrence Welk Show? Favorite Maine lighthouses?"

flubby, of course, is the eldest member of KSK by half a decade, and is thus sensitive about these things. The lady doth protest too much, and all that.

3. Unsilent Majority: Peanuts

"I'll take the peanut. That along with a little George Washington Carver-esque creativity should make life pretty livable. And if not, I can always invent a boat powered by peanuts."

flub: A legume, NOT A FRUIT.

UM: IT'S ON THE LIST!

UM: [quoting something, probably another Wiki page] "A legume is a simple dry fruit which develops from a simple carpel and usually dehisces (opens along a seam) on two sides." blow me, lawboy

flub: Culinary fruits??? I thought this was open to botanical fruits only.

Things went on this way for a while. It devolved into smart-alecky one-liners, Simpsons quotes, and a preemptive ban on tomatoes and avocadoes, which led to more histrionics from the Maj, which led to the citation of Nix v. Hedden, the Supreme Court case that ruled that tomatoes were vegetables. Maj's devotion to picking ANYTHING BESIDES FRUIT in the fruit draft was actually kind of impressive.

After enough brow-beating, we finally got to this:

3. Unsilent Majority: Oranges

"so I don't get scuuuuurrrrvy."

4. Monday Morning Punter: Kiwi

Punter noted that the best way to eat kiwifruit is to cut it in half, then scoop out the good stuff with a spoon. So if you're still peeling them, get with the times, man.

5. Captain Caveman: Mangoes

A pain in the ass to eat, but absolutely delicious.

6. Big Daddy Drew: Bananas

"I eat one pretty much every day. Plus, they don't give me canker sores like oranges and citrus, and they keep my bowel movements nice and firm."

7. Drew: Lemons

The only thing Bart is teaching is guerilla combat in Shelbyville.

"If I have fish, I gotta have lemon. Plus if I find sugar cane I can make lemonade, which is just bitchin on a sunny day."

UM: and if i can find a gun i can shoot myself to avoid living in a world without legumes

A bit of reach on Drew's part, but I suppose he was drafting for need.

8. Caveman: Strawberries

CC: I was gonna go with the en vogue acai berry, but fresh strawberries are an excellent combination of taste and ease.

UM: strawberries and acai were the only things left on my board

9. Punter: açaí

UM: cuntblossom!

Punter: You fucking deserve it for being such a pain in the ass.

10. UM: Apples

"because this draft is gay, and i already have oranges. fuck it all."

11. flubby: square watermelons


12. Ape: Pineapple.

"I was looking at blueberries, which are nice to eat by the handful, but I think pineapple is a better complement to the peach. It also gives me something to while away some time on my deserted island."

Indeed. Welp, that was a pain in the ass and a waste of everyone's time. Same time next week?

KSK Field Trip: Las Vegas! Preview: The Seven Story, And Other Wanton Acts Of Stupidity

I’m going to Vegas this weekend, and while I’d like to follow guy code and pretend I know everything there is to know about Vegas, the fact of the matter is I’ve been there a grand total of one time, and deserve to have the word MARK written in red oil-based paint on my shirt when I touch down on the tarmac.

Five years ago I came for my own bachelor party. One story in particular stands out. There were 10 of us waiting outside the Hard Rock for a cab one night, but the cab line was miles long. So a big black guy who went only by the name of Seven came up to us. He did not look like George Costanza’s son.

Seven explained to us that he could give us a ride, and then gestured over to a very large Hummer limo.

Keep in mind there were ten of us here. One of my friends (or me) could have piped up at any time and said, “I’m not sure this is a good idea,” and we probably would have realized it. But no one did, and everyone was shitfaced, so we all got in.

I don’t know if all Hummer stretch limos are created equal, but if so, they’ve got a lot of room for improvement. There were two long banquettes of seats and a black light. No one touched the minibar out of fear that a glass of Chardonnay would run $7,500. We asked Seven to find us some ladies for the evening. After ten minutes of driving, we seemed to be well outside the city limits. The highway was pitch black, and the limo driver had cranked up The Prodigy on the stereo system so high that I could actually feel the sound passing through my sinus cavity. I immediately pictured in my head our final destination: Nicky Santoro's death scene in “Casino”. I was hoping not to buried naked.

Me: I think we’re all about to die.

Instead, the limo pulled up in front of Cheetahs. Only I got out of the limo. The others were told to wait. Before entering the club, Seven turned to me:

Seven: Now don’t talk to any of the girls about our business while we’re in the club. Just pick two you like and I’ll hook you up.

Me: (retarded) Okay! That sounds great!

We headed into the club. Seven grabbed one girl.

Seven: You like her?

Me: She’s okay. Can we keep looking?

Seven: No.

Me: Okay. She’s great! When can she meet us back at the hotel?

Stripper: What are you talking about?

Seven then pulled me aside and castigated me for bringing up our business in the club. I apologized. He pointed out two more girls. I said okay. We got back in the limo and were driven back to Mandalay Bay. We got out. My friend Farooq (not his real name, but he is Muslim), paid Seven $700 cash in advance. Seven told us to go wait in our rooms.

We sat around the room for a solid two hours until someone said:

Someone: Uh, I don’t think they’re coming.

Everyone Else: Oh! It was a scam! We get it now!

But at least he didn’t kill us. I felt very lucky in that regard.

The rest of my trip there didn’t go to waste. There was a French hooker in a g-string in the cabana next to us one day at the pool. I didn’t have to pay for dinner at China Grill. I made a futures bet on a Vikings Super Bowl win that had no chance of winning. I actually made it to the main part of Ghostbar after waiting in 17 separate lines to get in. Once there, a woman came up and said hi to me.

Me: I’m getting married next month!

Hooker: Well, you can always use a good ho.

Me: Yes! That is true! (doesn’t know what else to say)

I tried craps, only to end up throwing the dice off the table twice, which I hear is a bit of a party foul. I studied the rules of that game for five hours on my flight over. It still baffled me. I got so drunk each night that I began talking to my own shadow. And I made $80 at the blackjack table while having this strategy chart out in front of me like the little girl I am. The Pit Boss came over and made fun of me for it. Well, fuck that guy. I made $80. I AM A GODDAMN WHALE, YOU FAT PIG!

So all in all, not a bad trip. What does this go round have in store? You’ll just have to find out next week, dicksmacks.

It's About Damn Time These Baristas Got Their Ducks In A Row.

And not a moment too soon. I was growing weary of my tasty beverage alternative. Have you ever tried slurping whipped cream out of Keith Olbermann's asshole?

Kill Kill Kill: Why Did the Gazelle Cross the River?

Oh no! That petite coed is trying to leave the frat party, but Jerramy Stevens and his friends are there!

Big Sean Goes To The Market

Boss: Oh, man. We’re understaffed for the evening again. Judy, I’m afraid you’re going to have to work a double shift.

Judy: But Mr. Franklin, I already promised my sister I’d look after her kid so she can go work her OWN night shift. I can’t do it tonight.

Boss: Well, this puts us in a real bind. I mean, unless someone walks through that door right now with a sterling employment application, I’m gonna have to call back Tina or Charlie.

(door flies open)


Big Sean: Ha ha. I tell you what right now. I am liking the raw POTENTIAL of this Boston Market.

Boss: Who are you?

Big Sean: Ha ha. Two words, okay? BIG. SEAN. I’m Big Sean, and this is my associate Little Sean.

Little Sean: SMELL FOOD! WOMAN!

Boss: Oh my God! Is that your penis?

Big Sean: Ha ha. I’ll tell you what. When I look at a restaurant like Boston Market, I see chicken. Okay? I know a lotta people say, “Well, they’ve got meatloaf.” Uh uh. This menu is all about CHICKEN. What kind of chicken do you have here? Delicious chicken, that’s what.

(throws the boss an employment application)

Big Sean: Lotta room to grow here. Lotta room for Big Sean to grow. And if that young lady over there sticks around, plenty of room for Little Sean to grow as well.

Little Sean: ONE EYE SEE GIRL!

Boss: Well, I mean, what are your credentials?

Big Sean: Ha ha. Four letters, okay? E-S-P-N. This is the best network in sports, okay? I know a lot of people say, “Hey, FOX isn’t bad!” Uh uh. Not gonna happen this go round. Let me tell you about your sneeze guard. HOO BOY, it is dirty. I mean, it looks like Little Sean here gleeked all over it.

Little Sean: RUB CLEAR PLASTIC!

Boss: Well, I’m very skeptical. You just walked in off the street. And you have your penis out. I’m not even sure that’s in accordance with health codes.

Big Sean: Ha ha. I tell you what, Manager Boy. You get me behind that glass? And you let ME scoop out mashed potatoes to customers? And you see that line goin’ out the door? (playfully punches his shoulder) My oh my, you are gonna be dancing in the streets.

Boss: Where, did you go to college?

Big Sean: Ha ha. Three words, buddy: UNIVERSITY. OF. SOUTHERN. CALIFORNIA. Now I know a lotta people say, “Hey, that’s FOUR words!” Uh uh. When you abbreviate it? And you take out that “of” there? You got yourself a three-word school right there.

Little Sean: SWEATER PULLED TAUT!

Boss: Okay, okay. I guess this can work. Let’s try you behind the counter.

(one hour later)


Big Sean: Welcome to Boston Market. May I take your order?

Customer: Yeah, I’ll have…

Big Sean: Ha ha. I’m gonna tell you something RIGHT NOW: This is all about Pastry Top Chicken Pot Pie.

Customer: What?

Big Sean: Ha ha. When I look at a customer like you, what you need to have is a strong pot pie. Okay? It’s got the light and flaky top, then it hits you up with chicken and vegetables on the inside. When you get that combination going? With the chicken and the pastry? That is TOUGH to stop. Who’s gonna turn that down? No one, that’s who.

Customer: Actually, I wanted the roasted turkey breast.

Big Sean: Nuh uh. Not gonna happen. Know why? Because you aren’t built for that kind of meal. That turkey’s gonna go right through you. You’ll be shitting pure hydrochloric acid in an hour.

Little Sean: ANAL JELLY BEANS!

Customer: OH MY GOD, WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?

Big Sean: I’m Big Sean, and this is my associate Little Sean.

(Customer runs off)

Boss: You just scared off another customer, Salisbury. I’m sorry, but I have to fire you.

Big Sean: Ha ha. Doesn’t matter, Manager Boy. There’s just not a lotta room to grow here. Now a lot of people said, “Hey! There’s a lot of room to grow there!” Uh uh. Didn’t happen. Okay? When you get into a situation like this, there’s a ceiling you’re going to hit. AND YOU CANNOT GO BEYOND THAT POINT. Just stop right now, ‘cause it ain’t happenin’.

Little Sean: UNDERWEAR CATCH BIG DRIBBLE!

Boss: I think I’d like you to leave.

Big Sean: Ha ha. One thing about Big Sean: YOU NEVER COUNT HIM OUT. Okay? He’s gonna get stronger as this whole thing goes on. Right, Little Sean?

Little Sean: LIKE GUSHY VELVET!

This Guy's a Chubby Chaser

Okay, we've had enough of mourning death for one day. Back to celebrating it with this clip of a tiger trying to bag itself a cow. Stop nipping at its legs, tiger, that's poor tackling form. If it were a horse, Roy Williams would have some useful advice for you.

Anyway, this must be what trying to rape Raven Simone is like.

Myron Cope is Dead n'at

Having lived most of my life in the D.C. area, I never got the local feed of Steelers games, so I was rarely treated to Myron Cope's yinzerspeak except on rare occasions that NFL Films gave the replay of his calls. I do own a number of his Terrible Towels, which I understand are fairly ridiculous to fans of teams that creatively steal things from Texas A&M.

This story though I can appreciate most of all.

Washington came to Pittsburgh in 2000 to play the last game ever at Three Rivers Stadium. Cope kept calling the Redskins the "Red Faces." According to The Washington Post, early in the third quarter, a Washington publicist knocked on the radio booth door during a commercial break and asked Cope to stop. He went on the air and said: "If (Snyder) thinks he can give me orders, he can stick his head in a bucket of paint."

UPDATE: TheStarterWife points to this audio collection of Myronisms.

5 / 6 of KSK celebrates never having to hear the Maj talk up BLloyd again

“He's is going to make some lucky CFL team VERY happy. You'll see!”

The Washington Redskins have decided to cut their losses in the failed Brandon Lloyd experiment. The Skins shelled out a couple draft picks and $10M to land Lloyd a couple years back. While their quarterbackery was sketchy during his stint in DC, the fact remains that BLloyd scored as many touchdowns for the Skins as I did.

While some would call Lloyd a woeful bust (and lazy to boot), in Unsilent Majority's world he was a delicate flower, who never got the respect he was so richly due. A fact that Maj was often reminding of us of in the daily email threads. (“If they don't throw to him then what's he supposed to do?” * ) While the rest of us grudgingly admire Maj's pie-eyed enthusiasm-- and even tacitly endorse Lloyd's Aikman-baiting, if we never hear his name again it will be too soon.


*- He really said it; I shit you not.

ESPN Sends Salisbury Back to the Bots

Sean Salisbury's days at ESPN have come to an end. Tonight, the world mourns....












...I'm drunk.

A Return to His Hinesland

Hines Ward: Is gleat, gleat honol to leeturn to South Koleea for inaugulation of super fantastic head of govelment foll rife, Ree Myung-bak. Me shower you with etelnity of smirre and good foltune. Wish you many year plospelity and toterr victolee in batter against enemy. Sterrpid enemy.

Lee Myung-bak: Yes, yes, Thank you, Hines.

We must move from the age of ideology into the age of pragmatism. At times over the last 10 years, we found ourselves faltering and confused, but now, we will take with us our achievements as well as the lessons we learned from our failures and start anew. At the juncture when we are beginning another 60 years of the Republic, I hereby declare the year 2008 as the starting year for the advancement of the Republic of Korea.

Hines: Errrrrr. Why you no terr me inaugulation so bowling? If I want risten to bowling speech, I ask Tloy Perramaroo about Jesus. Rong hair equal rong speech.

We have songtime foll gleat joyous occasion!

[Singing along] Foll werr you know that it's a ferr who prays it cerr while making his wolrd a rittle corder. NAH NAH NAH NAH NAH NAH-NAH NAH NAH

I feer rike me in Loyal Tenebaums now!

Lee Myung-bak: That's wonderful, Hines.

I would also like to take this moment to acknowledge our honored guest, the United States Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice.


Based on the deep mutual trust that exists between the two peoples, it is in our best interest to strengthen our strategic alliance with the United States. Once North Korea abandons its nuclear program and chooses the path to openness, we will provide assistance so that we can raise the per capita income of North Korea to US$3,000 within 10 years.

Hines: Rongfilstname Lice? Me thought Hines was guest of specerr honol! Such betlayar nevel befole seen!

Arways feer gleat affinity foll South Koleea. Arways rook at frag with deep plide.


Wait, rooking now at frag, understanding is come to me. The ying and yang symborize derricate barance between smirre and no smirre. Such is the barance between myserf and Secletely Lice.

Foll gleat wisdom, Plesident Myung-bak!

Overheard at the Combine

We're way too cool to attend the NFL Combine/Sausage Festival, but our spies are lurking behind ever corner...and safety. The following are snippets of conversations overheard by said spies.

Peter King to Joe Flacco...
"If you want to get anywhere in this league you'll start answering my text messages, young man."

Roger Goodell to Zygi Wilf...
"I'd be scouting a new left tackle if I were you."

Unknown media member...
"Sure, I appreciate Mayock's attention to detail, but he should leave the rectal exams to the doctors."

Michael David Smith...
"If you talk to Rob King tell him I said hi, and ask if him he got the fruit basket."

Bob Kraft into cellphone...
"Mike Haht? Fahk that daaahkie, I just watched that Jacob Hestah smoke his ass. We don't even need Mahs, we'll just play the Hestah kid at wideout. He looks like he's wicked smaht and hahd werkin. I'm tellin' ya, if we line Welkah up opposite Hestah we can't fackin' lose!"

Mike Florio to a janitor...
"Can I cite you as an unnamed source?"

Unknown player...
"This is whole thing is a bit Kevin Spacey, if you know what I'm sayin'."

We know what you're saying, unknown player, we know.

SUPER SEXY UPDATE:

Darren McFadden into cellphone...
"Nah baby, you can't get pregnant if you do it in the butt."

Michael Wilbon Is So Much Better Than You, It’s Disgusting

Continuing the Kornheiser theme today, I was driving in to work today listening to his radio show when Michael Wilbon phoned in to chat on the air, as he frequently does. In the span of five minutes, Wilbon said he wasn’t a fan of Jon Stewart or “comic people who are politically edgy”, said Roger Federer “didn’t do it” for him, declared “No Country For Old Men” to be a lazy film (but not before botching its title), and said he hated all the Academy Award nominated films this year.

I’ve vaguely hinted at this before, but I think it’s time to put subtlety aside and bust open the haterade officially.

Michael Wilbon is a fucking HUGE douchebag.

Yeah, I know he’s probably the most well-liked person in the industry. That’s great. Good for him. It must be because all the other journos are in awe of his breathtaking casual arrogance. This guy is the Reggie Nelson of sportswriters. Is there nothing on Earth Wilbon cannot simply dismiss with a wave of his hand? Found “No Country” lazy, did you, Wilbon? Well, then it must be so! I thought I was watching “Meet The Spartans”, it was so half-assed! Charles Barkely hated it too, so he must be right! You know him a little bit, right Wilbon?

But hey, what do I know? I’m just a sports fan. And, as you know, if there’s anything Wilbon hates in this world, it’s the common sports fan. Do you like the NFL Draft? Well, Wilbon thinks you’re a fucking simpleton. Thought Wilbon was a little cold about Sean Taylor’s death? Well then, you’re obviously one of these braindead homers who doesn’t understand the principal tenets of journalism. You’re obviously just some Pollyanna who never likes to see his team criticized. There’s no in-between at all! Are you a blogger? Oh, then you obviously are some horrible, predatory rumormonger. You aren’t fit to play act with heads on sticks like a real reporter!

I used to think it was cute when Wilbon called everyone knuckleheads at PTI’s signoff. Except it isn’t a joke. He really DOES think you are a knucklehead, and that you, Joe Sports Fan, are nothing more a beer-swilling retard who is incapable of making decisions for yourself. I bet you liked “No Country For Old Men,” you lazy fucking sheep. Michael Wilbon can’t express his disdain for you highly enough.

Well, I’ve had enough. Wilbon’s gotten a free pass for too long. You’re going right on the douchebag list, Mikey, right between Simmons and that dude from Maroon 5. Am I surprised you’re a preening asswipe? Not in the least.

OMG! TK NOT OK WITH KSK TKO!!!!11!!!!11!1!

If you were with us last Thursday, you may have read our little goof on Tony Kornheiser’s radio show. I, of course, wouldn’t have been able to write that post without enjoying ol’ Korny’s radio work from time to time. He can annoying on occasion, and even be a little bit Jackie Harvey-esque. But he’s not that bad. And hey, at least he’s not the fucking Junkies.

Well anyway, perhaps by coincidence and perhaps not, Kornheiser on Friday got his latkes in a twist and went on a rather epic tirade against the ol’ blog folk. Our friends Steinz penned the transcript, and he notes that:

a few minutes later he was again ranting about "sources" and saying "if you want to talk to me, just call me, don't talk to "sources close to kornheiser," " or something like that, which made me think he might have been talking about dcrtv, which is forever posting rumors about the future of the tony kornheiser show.

So Kornheiser may not have been bitching about us directly. But, for the sake of our entertainment on a Monday, let’s just assume he was. It’s time for me to refute you, Mr. Tony! And no amount of throat-clearing or nasal whining from you will be enough to stop it! Here’s the rant. It should be noted, of course, that this rant was couched into a greater discussion about “American Idol”. Of course it was.

And I don't want to single anybody out in this area, but, you know, some people sit at home and they watch TV and they watch radio

They watch radio? Now there’s a trick.

and they "blog" about certain "things," and they think they know what they're talking about, and they think they have sources. They have no sources. They make stuff up.

No argument there.

They're toads. They're little toads.

Pfft. Me? A toad? I am a fucking PRINCE, TK. I have a thick mane of lustrous hair that women often ask to run their fingers through. It is true that, if you lick me, you will experience freaky hallucinations. But that’s only because of the astringent I use to clean my back, which is remarkably free of blemishes. I’m adorable. You should have seen the way Smurphette looked at me on Thursday night.

Actually, they're pimples on the behind of the greater body politic in this country and in this city.

I just told you that I use astringent, dammit. I’m much more of a barnacle, or some form of symbiotic bacteria that feeds off the city while helping to keep it clean in return.

And because, because they have access to airwaves and three or four people read them, they think, 'Oh, I'm very important.'

Shows what he knows. Check the Sitemeter, BITCH. It’s way more than 4 people. Try 7 or 8. Is it time for a tired mother’s basement joke? Oh, yes.

In fact, if a huge dumpster landed on their mother's house

In Connecticut? That would suck. Then I’d have to drive all the way up there. To help with the cleanup and what not. Damn you, Mom. WHY DID YOU HAVE TO BE SO FRAIL?!

and, and got all the way into the basement and crushed them,

Oh, because I presumably live there! That’s hilarious! Aldridge is falling out of his chair right now!

nobody would care. Nobody would miss them.

My kid would. But it’s about time she toughened up. Always going on and on about needing her ducky. Well kid, Daddy’s not always gonna be around to get your ducky for you, god dammit.

They provide nothing good, no service that's any good at all.

Yes, but what about all the evil we provide? It’s locally grown and extremely fresh. Great for spring salads and herb aiolis.

They, they are, they are, they are sucking mole rats, and that's the nicest I can be to them.

Oh, no! A sucking mole rat!

But because, because they have a name, or, they, you know, because they get feedback from others, you know, they think they're very important. Randy and Paula think the show can't go on without them.

Okay, so this seems to be directed mainly at American Idol bloggers, and of course, all bloggers in general. Because all the people who write anything online are EXACTLY the same, and all of them are collectively TERRIBLE, TERRIBLE people. They’re so CYNICAL and SARCASTIC, which is Tony’s schtick! What a bunch of talentless DOPES! I wish a dumpster would fall from the sky and kill their mothers too. Because that’s funny!

Well, if you want a feud with bloggers, Tony, you got it. Hope you aren't afraid to get your combover mussed. Because you'll never know what those irresponsible blog folks will try and pull!

Some Of The Proposed NFL Rules Changes Not Getting A Lot Of Press

With the NFL's scouting combine in Indianapolis (which we've already established is an awesome city), there's only so much coverage one can digest of the league's competition committee meetings, which are transpiring at the same time. The big proposal getting the attention is one that would allow defensive players to be wired for sound, much like the quarterbacks were allowed to be this past season.

However, this is only one of the rules revisions that have been suggested for the 2008 season. There are a slew of other rules packages being considered for implementation. Some of the other suggested changes brought to the committee include:

- Changing the name of the 2-minute warning to "The Joe Gibbs Memorial Game Mismanagement Zone."

- A ball carrier's forward progress would be considered stopped if the defender in contact with him has had a felony arrest since 2004.

- Defensive face masks would be legal if the offending player can be heard screaming, "Fuck yo mama," or any interpretable derivative therein.

- Quarterbacks would be allowed to ground the ball inside the tackle box if it can be determined that his uniform has a distinct stain of urine.

- Wide receivers' pushing off to be called more scrupulously, unless said wide receiver's first name rhymes with "Craphonzo."

- Offensive players would be forbidden to rape within 72 hours of kickoff. For defensive players, however, it would be 36 hours.

- Referee's signal for "Delay of game" to be changed to vigorous underhanded motion at belt-buckle level.

These are just the ones we've heard about. If you know of any others, please pass them along in the comments.

Fictional Cheerleader Biography: Gina

Jets Flight Crew member Gina, like many of her teammates, is a Long Island native, from West Babylon, N.Y. She graduated from Nassau College with an associates degree in dance and also is licensed as a cosmetologist.

Gina currently works as a hairdresser and also teaches dance.

On a perfect night out, Gina would be “dancing with my loved ones” and “having fun!” She says one of her favorite hobbies is drawing and that "I love any art.”

Gina is very proud of her Italian heritage and lists “putting my shoes on the table” as one of her most unusual superstitions.

NOTE: Holy crap, that's her ACTUAL biography.

Joe Buck And Jim Nantz Discuss The Merits Of The Three-Person Booth While Walking Through An Airport

JOE BUCK: Jim, what are you pointing at?

JIM NANTZ: Uh, I forgot.

JOE BUCK: So, that’s it. Another season in the books.

JIM NANTZ: It went by so quickly.

JOE BUCK: Good season, Jim.

JIM NANTZ: Good season, Joe.

JOE BUCK: I think we’ve earned a little R&R, don’t you agree?

JIM NANTZ: We did some gosh-darned good work this season.

JOE BUCK: So much bullcrap that we put up with, what with the travel, all the a-holes to deal with. It’s a great job, make no mistake, but people question my fortitude, call me the P-word and what not. It really…it stinks. It just stinks.

JIM NANTZ: Stinks like fresh bull mess.

JOE BUCK: But I’m done with that for a few months. Sometimes it takes me a few weeks to snap out of my broadcaster voice, you know what I mean? I have some baseball dates coming up, but those are way down the calendar.

JIM NANTZ: You’re lucky. I still have the CBS golf schedule, including the Masters. On such hallow ground, one’s language must be as pristine and as pure as his pigmentation.

JOE BUCK: Better keep that mouth of yours in game shape then.

JIM NANTZ: Indeed. But I will get a short break here. For three days, I’m not going to do…

[Trails off]

JOE BUCK: …Jim?

Oh. It's finally happened. The Pussy Apocalypse is upon us. An army of whores have come to enslave us all.

JIM NANTZ: Oh, no.

JOE BUCK: Look at that one in the front. That little bitch is begging for it.

JIM NANTZ: Oh, heavens, no.

JOE BUCK: That little piece of Tokyo ‘tang might be on your flight, Jimbo. You might even be sitting next to her on the way back to New York. You could give her a little Seoul Finger. But, you know, like South Korea Seoul. Get it?

JIM NANTZ: [Squirming uncomfortably] I follow you, Joe.

JOE BUCK: Oh, sorry man. I didn’t mean to articulate that. That is a disgusting act. And I apologize that…that I won’t be flicking that bean myself. You know what I hear about Japanese women? That their gashes are flat. Like their economy.

JIM NANTZ: You’re not really helping.

JOE BUCK: What’s the big deal? Just say that you want to fuck her and I’ll shut up. I swear. Just say it, Jimbo. Me love you long time. But say it in a Bryant Gumbel voice.

JIM NANTZ: No.

JOE BUCK: Fine, say it in your own voice.

JIM NANTZ: I’m not going to say it.

JOE BUCK: She might have checked her bags at the terminal, but I’ll be checking her oil in the handicapped stall before boarding. And I will continue to hit that ass until the No Pounding sign has been illuminated. By the time I’m done fucking her, not only will her eyes be round, but she’ll have gained 15 pounds and have issues with her father.

JIM NANTZ: Please stop.

JOE BUCK: Come on, Jimbo, let’s get over there and gang-bang her. You can give her a Pacific Rimjob, and I’ll make her pie-hole part of the Wang Dynasty. Then you can take a break while I pummel that Pai-Gow pussy with my Kim Jong eel while I’ve got her ankles on my shoulders.

JIM NANTZ: [mumbling] It’s a position…

JOE BUCK: Say it, Jimbo. Come on, say it!

JIM NANTZ: It’s a position unlike any other.

JOE BUCK: Yes! Alright, Jimbo!

JIM NANTZ: Ladies and gentlemen, this is Flight 669 with nonstop service to Pleasuretown. We’d like to invite our Pacific club members to begin seating…on my face.

JOE BUCK: Let’s get over there. I’ve got an invitation to the House of Dong with her name on it.
[They stand up]

JIM NANTZ: I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: nothing beats Saigon beaver.

JOE BUCK: True dat, Jimbo. True. Dat.

This Week’s KSK Mock Draft: Websites We’d Like To See Experience Permanent Tech Support Problems

When the calendar hits April this year, it’ll have been exactly one year since Colin Cowherd, aka Schrutebag, aka Cuntrag, aka Hollow-Faced Fuckwad, ordered a Denial of Service attack on the well-meaning but astonishingly clueless folks over at The Big Lead, provoking a great deal of anger from the United Federation Of Douchebags With Sports Blogs (us included). We were mad as shit. We weren’t gonna take it anymore. And, best of all, we had one more reason to tell Colin Cowherd to spend the leftover money from his divorce settlement on a nice bag of shit to eat.

But let’s face it, we bloggy and webby folks tend to suck each other’s dicks quite a bit. We all get rather pissy at all the back-slappy folks in the MSM for always pallin’ around like a bunch of fruits, but we tend to be just as guilty of such cronyism on occasion.

Time to rectify that chumminess just a bit. Like music, or movies, or any other form of pop culture, there are a whole bunch of shitty ass sites out there, some of them downright fucking infuriating. So let’s use this draft to select a few we’d like to see fall victim to a deadly server hamster mass genocide.

That’s right. It’s Websites We’d Like To See Experience Permanent Tech Support Problems.

The order:
Drew
Ufford
Ape
Punter
Flubby
Maj

The rules:
The site you pick would be shut down forever, and its founders unable to set up shop again anywhere else on the Internet. 2 rounds.

Let’s play the feud!

Round 1, Pick 1 – Drew - Perez Hilton

There isn't a more pathetic wannabe fuckhead anywhere else on earth. And that’s saying a LOT. And look at those Bad MS Paint skills. It’s an insult to Bad MS Painters everywhere.

Round 1, Pick 2 – Ufford - The Big Lead

“What's to dislike most about The Big Lead? Is it the Jackie Harvey cluelessness? The ironic attempt at credibility while staying anonymous? His admission that he puts less effort than he used to into writing posts so that he can churn out more of them and increase his traffic? Nah, I'm gonna go with the final 'question' from his interview with Chuck Klosterman: 'Tell us something interesting'. That site is an insult to people who think.”

But Ufford, TBL isn’t a person. He’s actually a computer program named Rhonda that is programmed to watch all the shows Simmons and Norm Chad like!

Round 1, Pick 3 – Ape - Late Night Shots

“The clearinghouse of vapid hook-up gossip and medium-grade racism from the most privileged dipshit WASPs that Drew didn't go to school with.”

Actually, I probably did go to school with them.

Round 1, Pick 4 – Punter – Wonkette

Punter: This is exactly why the founding fathers never let women vote.

Ape: Well, Wonkette is run by gay dudes now.

Little known fact: gay men contain 85% more snark.

Round 1, Pick 5 – Flubby – Randy Constan aka Peter Pan’s homepage

“Not a hate crime, this guy just gives me the heebie-jeebies”

A Christian Evangelical who dresses like Peter Pan? You don’t say!

Round 1, Pick 6 – Maj – MySpace

“Because I fucking hate teenagers and their worship of assclowns like Dane Cook and Tila Tequila.”

Don’t forget Dashboard Confessional!

Round 2, Pick 7 – Maj – MichelleMalkin.com

“Sure, I could select a corporate entity like Fox News, but Malkin really might be the devil.”

Maj didn’t like “In Defense Of Internment”? Well, I think he’s being a bit biased now, isn’t he?

Round 2, Pick 8 – flubby – NASCAR Role Play

“This site looks like it died on its own, but I'm not willing to risk that some may have survived... the nuclear option is in order”

Yes, but Diecast Dude would still be around.

Round 2, Pick 9 – Punter – Walk Off Walk

“Worst fucking site in existence. Although I could just wait for Iracane and CTC to fuck this up on their own. But like flub said, why risk the wait. (Relax Iracane, it's a plug in hate's clothing.)”

Iracane emailed us about this site with this message:

Iracane: Say what you will about our sport of choice, but we eventually seek to prove that baseball is smarter, funnier, and sexier than your crude game of football.”

Ape: In one snappy URL, you've refuted your whole argument.

Iracane: We were going to name the website "Meaningless Four Hour Orioles-Devil
Rays Game in September" but the URL was unavailable.

Ape: Those games are meaningless regardless of month.

Round 2, Pick 10 – Ape – Ain’t It Cool News

“Responsible! for! exhausting! the! world's! supply! of! exclamation! marks! within! the! next! five! years!”

Indeed. Steal of the draft. Never read a movie review on Ain’t It Cool? You can write one yourself. Just follow this simple format:

1. Open with 1,000 word childhood story
2. Profess love of type of movie genre (“I LOVE musicals. Always had a soft spot in my heart for them!”)
3. 2,500 word story about how you got to the theater
4. Talk about the one time you traded emails with JJ Abrams
5. Profess complete adoration of film you were flown out to

And don’t forget those wonderful Talkbackers: “YOU SHUT UP! Hayao Miyazaki IS A FUCKING GOD!!!!”

Round 2, Pick 11 – Ufford – Pro Football Talk

“Sure, it's essential to a lot of football fans, but Florio's a dick.”

But then how will I know which agents a potential draft pick might be considering?

Round 2, Pick 12 – Drew – ESPN

Forcing them outta business would get all the lazy sports fans onto newer, better sites. Plus, you can read a fucking wire report on any sports site. I don't think anyone will pine for the stylings of Gene Wojochowski once that site is wiped off the face of the Earth.

Honorable mention here to shock sites like Tubgirl, 2girls1cup, and Lemon Party. "Oh, I'm so funny I made you click on Tubgirl!" Congrats, 289 and Lt. Winslow, you're both douchebags.

I’m sure we forgot some. Please enlighten us in the comments. Try and pick just one site, then allow ten other choices to be made before you pick another. Hopefully, I’ll be able to find my own rules this time.

You Want a Navy Man Who Cheats on His Wife? Why Didn't You Say So, America?

I could've been hitting the campaign trail months ago. Wes Welker would've been stumping for me. I wouldn't have lost a single white vote. Even better, unlike that fogey McCain, I'm actually in favor of spying on folks.

Okay, okay, looks like Mexico Juan got the jump on me in ballin' outside the vows of marriage, but, hey, I didn't deny it. That's accountability, people.

And as you saw from the Super Bowl, I'm in favor of pulling out before the job is done in Iraq. Provided we're still losing, of course. Sounds like the surge is going okay though, so we might stick around for a bit.

You know what the Supreme Court could use more of? Old white linebackers. I think Chris Spielman is worth a look, don't you? His originalist views on the Constitution really appeal to me, as does his white skin. Coach him up, Scalia!

So, in closing, vote for me or Robert Kraft will sell the country to the Russians. Fuck you, and God bless mumblemumblemumblemumblemumble

Welcome Back To The Radio Show For 50 Year Olds Who Don’t Get Out Enough

(cue “Hey Jude” by The Beatles)

Tony: What song is this? Is this Jim Croce? Wait, I know this…

(gets to “na na na” part)

Tony: Oh, it’s “Hey Jude”! Of course it is. It must be Paul McCartney’s birthday today. The Beatles, of course, (clears throat) were founded in Liverpool, a town I have never been to and will never go to for as long as I live.

(everyone in the studio laughs for no reason)

Tony: The Beatles, as you know, were VERY, VERY popular here in the United States, what with Beatlemania and all. (clears throat) Then they went to India and started meditating (clears throat) and then everything just went right to hell.

(everyone in the studio laughs for no reason)

Tony: Wilbon, were you a Beatlemaniac?

(cue Wilbon on the phone)


Wilbon: Was I a Beatlemaniac? No, no I was not a Beatlemaniac. Beatlemaniacs were little girls who went and screamed their heads off outside the airport when the band landed. I had no interest in any of that junk. Not for me.

Tony: Where are you right now, Wilbon?

Wilbon: Where am I? I am in Maui for a golf tournament. You knew that, Tony.

Tony: So you haven’t been here (clears throat) to digest this whole drawn-out search for Jim Zorn, the new Redskins coach? Ol’ Zorny?! HOW CAN YOU MISS OL’ ZORNY?!

(everyone in the studio laughs for no reason)

Wilbon: No, I was not around for that. I was far, far away from that, and happily so. I’m just so glad I was in Maui playing golf during this whole silliness, Tony. You know me. I am an IN-SEASON guy. None of the hot stove silliness. I don’t CARE about who’s coaching the team, even if my readers do. I’m not here to serve them. I just want to see the players play and the coaches coach. I don’t care how they got there. I don’t want to know what their back story is. I don’t want to know any sort of human element behind the competition. That’s just a bunch of JUNK for all the crazed goons who listen to talk radio and all that nonsense. Anyone who’s interested in the machinations of their team is just a fool and not fit to read a newspaper. I would like to treat them with complete and utter disdain, because I am an important person who talks about important issues, which in turn makes me more important than normal people.

Tony: Okay, well screw all that anyway. (clears throat) The important thing is, DID YOU WATCH IDOL?! HAVE YOU SEEN THIS DAVID ARCHULETA KID?!

Wilbon: No, I have certainly NOT. I’m not into Idol, Tony. You know that. It’s nothing but a bunch of junk and foolishness. I don’t care for this whole reality TV business, with people making asses of themselves on TV. It’s ridiculous, and I am so far above it all, I can hear the prayers of all the small children of the world when they go to bed at night. By the way, I look forward to us wearing cop uniforms on PTI later today.

Tony: Me too. Thank you, Wilbon!

Wilbon: Thanks, Tony.

Tony: Michael Wilbon, boys and girls. Golfing in Maui. (clears throat) I’d like to golf in Maui. But I can’t go! I CANNOT go. I can NOT go to Maui. Ever.

(everyone in the studio laughs for no reason)

Tony: Eugene Robinson, political columnist for the Post is with us now (clears throat) to talk about the election. Eugene, rough night for Hillary, huh?


Eugene: It certainly was, Tony. And you know what I found fascinating was that the exit polling data showed a growing number of…

Tony: Yeah, yeah, screw all that. The important thing is: DID YOU WATCH IDOL?!

Eugene: Well, no. I’m a political reporter, and had to work during the course of the evening. But I did get a chance to see David Archuleta, and he was…

Tony: He was great! He was GREAT! I mean, (clears throat) he is by no means Barry White, but I thought (clears throat) he was just FABULOUS!

Eugene: But other than that, I had to watch the election returns.

Tony: Wonderful. Thank you, Eugene.

Eugene: Talk to you later, Tony.

Tony: Yeah, I’m liking this season of Idol.

WaPo-Appointed Studio Lapdog For Tony: It’s not bad.

Tony: They’re not a bad group, right? Of course, (clears throat) it’s easy to top last year’s Idol, (clears throat) which was just a TERRIBLE, TERRIBLE season. It was just a bunch of DOPES. Probably all back working at Chuck E. Cheeses by now.

(everyone in the studio laughs for no reason)

Tony: I’m sorry, but it’s true. I’M CYNICAL! I’M SARCASTIC! Who do we have on the phone next. Is it you, Junior?


John Feinstein: Hey, Tony. Hey, do you know if I left a pair of brown suede gloves at your house the other night?

Tony: Hmm. I don’t recall seeing them.

John Feinstein: I think I left them on the table in entranceway. They were very simple brown suede gloves. Did you see them?

Tony: Oh, I think I may have! How do you want (clears throat) to arrange for picking them up?

John Feinstein: Well, if you could simply leave them by the door, somewhat off to the side, perhaps obscured by a bush, that would be fabulous. Oh, and did your wife get the cassoulet recipe from my wife?

Tony: I believe she did.

John Feinstein: Great, great. Did you still need help moving that desk at your house?

Tony: Well, let me explain what happened with the desk. I, (clears throat) as you know, CANNOT fix anything.

(everyone in the studio laughs for no reason)

Tony: Can’t fix anything at all. Anyway, (clears throat) we have this lovely desk that my wife found at a consignment shop. Very gorgeous, hand-crafted. Anyway, we had to move it (clears throat) so that the contractors could install the toilet. So anyway…

(cut to 90 minutes later)

Tony: …so the desk can’t be moved. Are we still on the air? You know, (clears throat) I completely forgot we were talking to some sort of audience. Anything else you want to add, Junior?

John Feinstein: Buy my new book, “Living on the Black”. I know Coach K. George Bush is a prick. I have several extremely liberal viewpoints. Army-Navy is an unmatched tradition in sports. Random golf anecdote. I wish Georgetown would play in my charity basketball tourney, but John Thompson is a dick. Bob Knight is an asshole. We need to get rid of guns in this country. Did you know I write books for children too? I think Gary Williams is exasperated about something.

Tony: Okay, thank you, Junior!

John Feinstein: I really wish you’d stop calling me that. It’s fucking annoying.

Tony: Joe Barber joins us now with movie reviews. Joe, are you gearing up for Oscar season?

Joe Barber: I am indeed!

Tony: DID YOU WATCH IDOL?!

Joe Barber: No, but this is a very good time to revisit some of the films up for Best Picture at the Oscars.

Tony: Who’s the host this year? Is it that Jon Hewitt?

Joe Barber: Jon Stewart, host of “The Daily Show”

Tony: Okay, well (clears throat) I saw him once. He’s a DOPE. Just horribly, horribly unfunny. Terrible comedian.

(everyone in the studio laughs for no reason)

Joe Barber: Okay.

Tony: So, tell me about some of these movies.

Joe Barber: Well, there’s “No Country For Old Men”, which is from the Coen Brothers.

Tony: Okay now, who are they?

Joe Barber: They’re very prominent directors.

Tony: Well, tell me about this movie.

Joe Barber: Okay. Well, Josh Brolin plays a sort of ne’r do well who finds this bag of money out in the middle of nowhere in Texas, and then (proceeds to give away entire plot and ending of film).

Tony: Now, should I go see this movie?

Joe Barber: Probably not, now that you know everything that happens.

Tony: I see. Is this the movie with the guy with the haircut? I have not seen it and I’m quite sure (clears throat) I would hate it and that it is a terrible, terrible movie. And I’m sure these Cogan Brothers (clears throat) are just a couple of DOPES.

Joe Barber: Actually, it’s quite a good film. Have you watched a movie within the past four decades?

Tony: Thank you, Joe!

Joe Barber: Thank you, Tony.

Tony: Joe Barber, boys and girls. I received a very nice letter in the mail from Janice Thompson of Frederick, Maryland today. (clears throat) It’s a very nice, very lovely card. And she sent me a very nice box of glazed apricots, which was also very nice. (clears throat) So thank you, Janice. I will eat them while I look at my new desk, which CANNOT be moved.

(everyone in the studio laughs for no reason)

Tony: I’m Tony Kornheiser, and this is 3WT Radio.

(clears throat)

I Really Could Use Some Carolina Panther News Right About Now

Got the daughter kicking up a big fuss about Wake beating Duke o'er the weekend. You think I care about some namby-pamby collegiate bucketballers in their shortie-shorts? I need me some gull durned footbaw.

And when you're talking footbaw, don't nothing top Carolina Panther footbaw. The tradition grows with each passing year. I 'member back in 1995, I was 31 and had just gotten my associate degree in Electrical and Electronics Maintenance and Repair Technology, Other. No more working at the Stuckey's for Bob Junior. I was off to conquer the big city, Fayetteville.

I needed something to spend my pay day advance loans on other than the mortgage or dialysis for my pa and Panther footbaw was just the ticket.

But lately, they just content to be stuck in a holding pattern. Who's our coach? Fox. Who's our quarterback? Danged if I know! What's our big off-season story? Franchise tag for Jordan Gross? Not even a new coach or a splashy signing or some lesbo cheerleaders!

I want them to be part of some big story! I want headlines! Did the Pats tape our walkthrough before Super Bowl XXXVIII? No? Well, why the heck not? Southern walkthrough is just as good as any!

I'm willing to bet that Sir Purr just handed over all our secrets to the Pats. Never did trust that no-account polecat. Tries to lure you into think he's honest by putting his fingerprints on his shirt, like he's got nothing to hide.

Knows what's good for him, he'll keep quiet about the meth lab in my basement. Ol' Bob Junior knows a state trooper or two what can keep a secret. I always figured having Darla marry that feller would come in handy.

Crocodile Fails To Keep Kosher

Here's a crocodile chewin' down on some swine. I recently read a book by Bill Buford called "Heat", where the author goes to Italy to learn how to be a butcher. It sounded rather grueling. If you've ever tried to bone a chicken at home, you know it ain't all rosy trying to get through bones and sinew with your blade. Your hand can cramp up wicked easy. That's why I admire the croc's approach, which is to forgo boning the pig and instead simply butchers the animal internally. No muss, no fuss, no fat stuck to your cutting board. You don't even have to Fantastik the counter afterwards! Drew likey.

Lions fans express optimism in rhyme

This is the duo No Parking. He is "Bus Stop". She is "City Limit" (incidentally, it would appear this city limit begins just out of frame). They predict a Detroit Super Bowl victory in this cinematic colossus.

I am well aware that mocking rapping white kids is the lowest of the low hanging fruit. (he gets the sack!) It's not even hanging anymore. (he calls the plays!) That banana in on the effing ground. (he wants a trade!) What can I say, I have no self-discipline whatsoever. Pray for me, won't you?



(Hat tip to the stone cold mack of college sports blogs: Card Chronicle)

The Patriots' Black Fan Reacts to the Contract Offer to Zach Thomas

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OLD WHITE LINEBACKERS

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ALL ASANTE'S FAULT

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MORE WHITE PLAYERS FROM THE DOLPHINS

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OLD WHITE LINEBACKERS

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STOP BEATING ME

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Random Notes From Around the World

Football's laborious off-season is officially upon us, but there are all sorts of fun things going on outside of the NFL. Here's a quick roundup of all the football and non-football news you need to know.

-Fidel Castro is stepping down as Cuba's leader due to his old age and failing health. The Patriots think they've found their newest linebacker.

-Zach Thomas is on the move!

-Zach's former teammate/in-law, Jason Taylor will appear on the next season of Dancing With the Stars. He hopes that ABC's "hit" show will convince the Pats that he is in fact white enough to join their ranks.

-Roman Polanski is being honored at the Turin Film Festival. He will celebrate by fondling a child under the cover of an old shroud.

-Lindsay Lohan showed off her milky white laters leaving millions to wonder why her freckles are so scared of her tits.


-JE Skeets modeled a football helmet.

-The strangest group photo ever taken outside of a blogger get-together was snapped backstage at a WWE event. I'm convinced that Lohan and Mayweather would make the world's greatest child. I'm also convinced that Shane McMamahon has had cosmetic surgery to look more like his father.

-LZ Granderson hung out with Brady Quinn.

-Lil' Stein says that the NFL has a bigger drug problem than MLB. He's probably just associating long hair with drug use, which is unfair. Robert Gallery is high on bundt cake, not drugs.

-Champion's League (best theme song in sports) is back, but I won't bore you with that euro football crap. Instead I give you this picture of Cheryl Cole, who is about to tell Chelsea's Ashley Cole to go fuck himself. As if that's new. I told him to go fuck himself when he first showed up.



-ONLY TWO MORE DAYS UNTIL THE COMBINE!

The 2007 KSK All-Meast Team

It's been over two weeks since the official end of the season, and we at KSK are already in withdrawal from the loss of the NFL's weekly dosage of hot measty action. As a way to stave off delirium tremens, we looked back on the 2007 season and came up with your official first-ever All-Meast Team.

Now, coming up with an All-Meast Team is no cakewalk. The six of us can barely contain our contempt for each other on a good day, so you can imagine the electronic slapfights that ensued when we brought our homeristic tendencies to a free-for-all squabble. After a lot of tears and one anonymous ballot voting for every player on the Redskins, we came to an agreement on the following guidelines.*

*I decided these would be the guidelines when I chose to write up the post.

1. We're not limited by the number of players on the field at one time, as with All-Pro or Pro Bowl selections. Only two defensive ends? Fuck that. Everyone who deserves to be on the team will get on the team.
2. All-Meast selections must be an acceptable combination of meastiness and character-driven qualities that make the player a person of interest at KSK.
3. This team is a list of players who embody a made-up word, as judged by six people far too lazy to make something of themselves. As such, anyone who takes this seriously enough to argue about the exclusion of a player will be punched in the testicles.

OFFENSE

QB: None. Quarterbacks are gay. Purple Jesus can take snaps from the Wing-T.
RB: Adrian Peterson, Vikings -- There's been a Purple Jesus backlash from people who insist his nickname is "All Day." Fuck those people. A nickname is whatever sticks.
RB: Brandon Jacbos, Giants -- It' not so much a vote FOR Jacobs as it is a "fuck you" to Tiki Barber.
RB: Laurence Maroney, Patriots -- Despite our anti-Pats bias, we had to give it up for Kool-Aid, the man who gave us construda and begul-shitting.

FB: Eh, whatever. If we could combine Lorenzo Neal's meastiness with Madison Hedgecock's name, that would be KSK's ideal fullback.
WR: Larry Fitzgerald, Cardinals -- Still in search of crackers.
WR: Hines Ward, Steelers -- Stirr Chlistmas Ape numbah one leceivel.
TE: Chris Cooley, Redskins -- Read this.
TE: Jason Witten, Cowboys -- Admitted to All-Meast Team only if he plays sans helmet.
TE: Kevin Everett, Bills -- Kind of a dick move by Sean Taylor to get killed when we'd already named the weekly Meast award after Everett.
OL: Joe Thomas, Steve Hutchinson, Andre Gurode, Logan Mankins, and a right tackle of your choosing. We don't really care all that much.

DEFENSE

DE: Osi Umenyiora, Giants -- Turned on by defecating on women? Welcome to the All-Meast Team.
DE: Jared Allen, Chiefs -- Credited his mullet for success.
DE: Patrick Kerney, Seahawks -- He wears that tight skull cap that only black people should wear. I won't even wear a loose-fitting white t-shirt outside.
DE: Aaron Kampman, Packers -- Another white guy? What the hell?
DT: Albert Haynesworth, Titans -- Last year: Booo! Hiss! This year: The Titans are nothing without him.
DT: Pat Williams, Vikings -- Teammate and fellow dominant interior lineman Kevin Williams missed the cut after not carrying a gun following Sean Taylor's death.
LB: Brian Urlacher, Bears -- Still pretty good; also, apologetic.
LB: Julian Peterson, Seahawks -- Single-handedly making the name "Julian" ten percent less gay.
LB: James Harrison, Steelers -- Similar to Joey Porter, but less of a piece of shit as a human being.
CB: Pacman Jones, Titans -- Pacman is the only selection to this year's team who was a big enough badass to get suspended for the entire year. Let's see YOU do that, Terrell Owens. No, seriously: we could really use a year off from you.
CB: Fred Smoot, Redskins -- Oh, he's a fucking terrible cornerback, all right. But when was the last time YOU enjoined two strippers with the same dildo?
CB: Antonio Cromartie, Chargers -- We felt like at least one of the cornerbacks should have made at least one good play during the season. Cro-Mart made a bunch.
S: Reggie Nelson, Jaguars -- Reggie thinks this is an okay post, but it ain't all that.
S: Sean Taylor, Redskins -- Mike Wilbon totally foresaw his selection.

SPECIAL TEAMS

None. Special teams are gay. That's right: even YOU, Devin Hester.