You Can Be A Hall of Famer!

The Pro Football Hall of Fame inductions were this past weekend. All the great players were there! You know: Dan Dierdorf, Tommy McDonald... real fucking legends of the game! Now you might think that getting into the Hall of Fame is a difficult task. Perhaps you think you need to rack up huge statistics, or win Super Bowls, or make an indelible impact on the game to make the Hall. Not so! For you see, I, Big Daddy Drew, have uncovered a simple program that will make me a bonafide Hall of Famer! Complete with urine yellow blazer and a bust that looks nothing like me!

On the surface, you might think this a ludicrous idea. After all, I didn't even play pro football. In fact, I only played two years in the NESCAC conference, and that's only because NESCAC teams don't make cuts! And even then I didn't get to play! I just stood on the sidelines and thought about beer and pussy the whole game! I didn't get to bring the water out. That was a backup's job. If the starter and backup ever got injured, they would have another backup play out of position because I couldn't block two X's on a Tic Tac Dough board.

But that hardly matters if you want to get into the Hall of Fame! Football skills aren't what the 39-man board of embittered dipshit writers value. No, they value kindness above all! Why, take it from SI's Dr. Z, the world's foremost doctor of autoproctology. Here he is talking about the Hall of Fame chances of coach Dick Vermiel!

Dick Vermeil, though, has made nothing but friends throughout his career, and he'll be rewarded right away. Sure, I'll vote for Dick. He sent me a case of that great cabernet he makes in Calistoga. You bet I'll vote for him.

Goddamn right you will, Paul! Who cares if Dick Vermeil didn't win as many Super Bowls as Tom Flores? He sent you a fucking crate of wine, and that makes him a great coach!

But let's assume Dr. Z is being facetious on the wine. Perhaps he could give an even more ridiculous insight into the Hall's voting process!

Last year at the Super Bowl, (Warren) Moon was out there doing radio or TV work, I can't remember which, for some station in Seattle. We started talking about the Hall of Fame. He was too polite to ask me what his chances were, but I brought it up and told him he had a hell of a good chance. He didn't think so. He thought the field was too strong. I told him, "You have a good shot because everybody liked you. You never stiffed anybody and you were always friendly and cooperative. I don't want to take anything away from your qualifications as a player, but those selectors in there are also writers and they have long memories. Their memories of you are all good ones." I hope I made him feel better.

I'm sure you did, Dr. Z! Because once Warren Moon found out that all you had to do to make the Hall was be nice to the media, he knew he was Canton-bound! Even though Moon never took his team to a conference title game, and had his career numbers inflated by playing in a run-and-shoot offense, he was "friendly and cooperative," and that's what makes him a true legend! Way more than Thurman Thomas, who was the lynchpin of four consecutive Super Bowl teams in Buffalo. That guy was a prick!

In fact, if you're not nice to the media, that clearly makes you a crummy player. Why, just look at Art Monk! Monk refrained from talking to the media during his career in Washington, so maybe he wasn't such a good player after all! Right, Dr. Z?

Catching 800 eight-yard hooks does not make a Hall of Famer.

It's so true! Even though Monk averaged 13.5 yards per catch during his career, his total dickheadedness to the media totally knocks that average down 5.5 yards! So you see? All you have to do is play your cards right with the group of slovenly, pathetic asswipes who are arbitrarily assigned as gatekeepers to the Hall, and you're a shoo-in! That's how Frank Caliendo got in last week! So I've created this to-do list that will help me curry favor with some particular Hall voters. Wish me luck, not that I'll be needing it!

Michael Wilbon, Washington Post - Send naked photos of Michael Jordan and Charles Barkley; complimentary VIP passes to the Deja Vu club in Ypsilanti, Michigan. Discuss various topics through the complex prism that we call "race". Agree with him that liking the NFL Draft is totally stupid, even though millions of people like the NFL Draft and harm no one by doing so.

Paul Zimmerman, Sports Illustrated - Send case of Yellow Tail Shiraz, mustache trimmer, sample colostomy bag kit, bondage photos of Flaming Redhead.

Peter King, Sports Illustrated - Offer to take down dull, non-salacious photos of daughter on website. Send free DVD of "House", plus copies of "An Inconvenient Truth," "Bowling for Columbine," and anything else that appeals to self-absorbed, surburban liberal dipshits. Oh, and two True Miguel Tejada foul balls.

Sid Hartman, Minneapolis Star Tribune - Send year's supply of Kellogg's All Bran.

Ron Borges, Boston Globe - Send pictures of naked 8-year-old boys and clown suit.

Bernie Miklasz, St. Louis Post-Dispatch - Send the severed testicles of Rams team president John Shaw; case of pistachios.

John Clayton, ESPN - Buy drinks, tell him that the rest of the 48 contiguous states also fucking hate Sean Salisbury.

Jerrett Bell, USA Today - Send copy of Strunk & White.

Len Pasquarelli, ESPN.com - Send entire hotel pan of clams casino, plus day-old caesar salad.

See you in Canton next summer. My wife will be inducting me.

UPDATE: I'm not much of a Skins fan, and I think that it's fair to debate Monk's place in the Hall. It's just Dr. Z's tossed-off arrogance that makes me want to turn green and smash things with impunity.

Draft Order Set, For Those Who Care...

FFLXDSP Draft: Selection Order for Odd Rounds
(reverse for even rounds)

1. Mary Beth's Box (Rob Iracane)
2. The Rusty Nailz (Rusty)
3. OklahomaCity Bombers (Mr. Poon)
4. Woody Allens (Will Leitch)
5. DeepThighBruise BDD (Big Daddy Drew)
6. The Danza Slaps (c) (Jefferson DArcy)
7. Dick's Four Skins (Good vs Evil)
8. Twilight of the Idol (Unsilent Majority)
9. Masher's Morans (The Gentleman Masher)
10. Tom's Team (Tom)
11. BigTDog
12. The Royal We (The Dude)
13. The Yostal Service (GoinYostal)
14. Suss's Sicilians (Suss --)
15. Dawn Patrol MMP (Monday Morning Punter)
16. Hebrew Oilers (Footsteps Falco)

Sifting Through the Clarett Wreckage

Kissing Suzy Kolber is not a website for Type A individuals. If you're reading this, you're probably lazy. It's okay: we are, too. Feels pretty fucking good most days.

Ooh, but then something like the Maurice Clarett story goes down, and you really want to read that Deadspin thread, but there are already 100 comments within half an hour of it getting posted, and as of this [updated] writing it stands at 208 comments and counting. That's more than anyone should have to sift through.

So here it is. Here is the Cliffs Notes version of the thread. I took the liberty of adding a few links so you can get the full picture more easily, and I even included two of my own comments, because EVERYTHING I SAY IS IMPORTANT!

Roy Keane: Guns in the trunk...bulletproof vest...the dude's unemployed...maybe he was on his way to Columbine High for a job interview?
Roy Keane: Too soon?
Scott Senay: Didn't the diagram yesterday show the entire body can be used for a taser? Now all you need is a vest? Was he wearing full body armor?
Captain Caveman: Yikes... I haven't seen a mugshot that bad since Yasmine Bleeth.
Sh!tShow: Clarett, Cooper.... man, people in Ohio can't keep their weapons concealed.
Barry Lutz: You hate to see something like this happen to such a good kid.
rsr26: "after he was placed in the paddy wagon, he was still kicking at the doors..." Paddy wagon?! What did Boss Tweed have to say about all this?
Captain Caveman: See, a lot of people might think four guns is too many. I'd say it's not enough, as long as Clarett was on his way to help Morpheus escape.
Rockin Joe Stalin: Well, at least this opens Mo up to try out for running back at State Penn.
Get Him A Body Bag, Yeah!: That prison jumper looks pretty worn in. I wonder if it has Clarett's name and number on the back of it.
Spanish Necktie: What the hell are you doing with a gun and a hatchet? What, in case somebody steps to you Snoop Dogg?
Big Daddy Drew: You know who I blame for this? The Jews.
Big Daddy Drew: Look out for Maurice and the rest of the gang this fall on ESPN Sunday NFL Countdown!
AcilletaM: BDD, more like ESPN Sunday NFL Lockdown
Chowday: "Ohhhh license and registration....I thought you said handle of vodka and hatchet...I was way off"
Hit Bull Win Steak: he didnt even refer to any of the police as "sugar tits?" What kind of arrest is that? Clarett disappoints once again.
WiserTime: Grey Goose? That guy has issues.
William: Clarett's entrance music for the WWE could be "I Shot the Sheriff, Then Got Tased By The Deputy."
Fearson: How the hell can this man afford Grey Goose?
The Fan's Attic: Fearson, with 4 loaded weapons, a bulletproof vest, and a hatchet he could probably "afford" a lot of stuff.
flubby: Cocaine is a hell of a drug.

UPDATE: Photoshop genius twoeightnine has drawn our attention to this little bit of brilliance, which pretty much says everything:

(Yes, this is a pretty fucking lazy post in its own right. What can I say -- I was inspired by Simmons's column today. And in our defense, we at KSK Headquarters are extremely busy hammering out the details of our Fantasy Funny League. More on that soon.)

Your Maurice Clarett update...

We are going to forego the obvious Cincinnati tryout joke and cut straight to the chase. The police chase that is. Clarett arrested again last night. Four loaded firearms. Federal pound me in the ass prison awaits.

Update: According to police, after a high-speed chase, they were forced to mace the Pride of the Buckeyes when Clarett's bullet-proof vest protected him from their tasers. Apparently, the only thing that stops Clarett is mace and NFL-Europe reserve caliber linebackers.

Meet the New Boss, Same As the Old Boss

Today the NFL Owners are meeting to elect a new Commissioner. Their new leader/opponent will be expected to guide the league forward following the unprecedented prosperity of the Paul Tagliabue era.
Since Tags announced his decision in March speculation has emerged that Roger Goodell will be the man, and that he'll take the job with ease (22/32 votes are required). Unfortunately for Goodell, the league takes this voting business more seriously than a Papal conclave (black smoke means Al Davis has spontaneously combusted), so he might be a bit on edge for now.

Today we are honored to have with us, the current Chief Operating Officer of the National football league, Mr. Goodell. (Suck on that exclusive, NFL Network!)

Kissing Suzy Kolber: Mr. Goodell, how have you prepared yourself to take the throne of the single greatest professional sports league on Earth?

Roger Goodell: Well let's not get ahead of ourselves just yet. When my boss, the lovable Mr. Tagliabue, was voted in as the Commissioner it took a voting period of several months.

KSK: Yeah but you're a lock, most owners wouldn't know these other schmucks if they were wearing nametags. Besides, some of them are just kind of embarrassing.

RG: I'm not sure I can agree with your sentiments.

KSK: Man up Nancy, you're about to be the second most powerful man the National Football League.

RG: Actually I will be the most powerful man in the league.

KSK: Bullshit, Gene Upshaw could kick your ass up and down the street if he chose to, you're lucky he's not that kind of guy.

RG: I have a great deal of respect for Mr. Upshaw and the entire Player's Association. With their help we can continue to both expand and improve upon the league we know today.

KSK: Expand? I'm not sure that's the word most football fans want to hear. Just what did you have in mind?

RG: Well as the League's Executive Vice President and COO I was primarily in charge of expanding the League's business ventures both foreign and domestic.

KSK: You were the one that put a regular season game in Mexico, weren't you?

RG: Yes that was one of the proudest accomplishments during my tenure.

KSK: Son of a vondruke! Why the fuck would you go out of your way to disrupt the season by taking away a team's home game?

RG: Actually we regarded that game as a great success. There is a deep potential market in Latin America and overseas. Expanding into these market places will be an important part of the League's future.

KSK: Mr. Goodell, why do you hate America?

RG: I am a very proud American and I resent any implication to the contrary.

KSK: Why don't we change the subject before somebody says something slanderous...? I've always been a fan of you wife, Jane Goodell; what's it like being married to a woman who fucks monkeys?

RG: I'm afraid you have my wife confused with someone else.

KSK: No, I'm pretty sure I saw that somewhere.

RG: Maybe you should try another subject then.

KSK: Sure thing Rog. In recent years some fans have become vocal over their disdain for the current system of televising games. How do you plan to appease the needs of your existing fanbase?

RG: Another project of mine was the NFL Season Pass contract that the League signed with DirecTV; I feel that has allow....

KSK: Hold up, you cannot be serious!

RG: Of course I am, the package has allowed millions of potential fans to watch their choice of quality NFL entertainment.

KSK: All you did was take a huge payoff from an evil media company to give them an exclusive that is not enjoyed by any other major American sports league (see MLB.tv, NBA League Pass, and NHL Center Ice). Why should we have to switch from cable to satellite just to watch our desired games? Do you have any idea how difficult it is to install a dish at a college apartment?

RG: Our agreement is completely legal and it has been mutually beneficial. We have made a great deal of money for our Compan...I mean League.

KSK: If you've made such great profits why haven't you been able to offer guaranteed contracts to the players that put themselves in danger every week? You are just another piece of crap Suit aren't you?

RG: My job is to ensure the financial growth of League.

KSK: Well once you get voted in by those owners your job will not be to serve them solely. Never forget that you are under the employ of the league, the fans, and the game itself . You are in charge of the single greatest diversion we have to enjoy in this country, please don't fuck this up. Be like your predecessor and allow the league speak for itself...it really is great.


Update: It's official, Roger Goodell is our new Commissioner. I, for one, welcome our new economic overlords.

Orenthal James Simpson: Judge Not Lest Ye Be Judged

At KSK we look back on the days of the OJ Simpson trial with fond remembrances. The trial helped to elevate Saturday Night Live back into our mainstream consciousness thanks in part to Norm MacDonald. The Trial of the Century was the golden era for football-related comedy regardless of how long the Juice had been out of the League. Nobody really knew what to think at first, but as details emerged, so did hilarious segments on television screens everywhere. Honestly I just wish we could have been around back then to provide our take...and now's our chance.

A new website called JudgeOJ has suddenly appeared with the promise of over 80 hours of uncut, unscripted moments of OJ just doin' his thing. They've got OJ at the bus stop (how the mighty have fallen), evidently his golf cart is in the shop. Basically OJ gave some guy named Spiderman carte blanche to follow him around with a camera over the course of four years (well it sounded like a good idea). Now this enterprising film buff has created this website that he has been filling up with priceless, and previously unseen, candid moments. The apparent goal of this site is to have visitors judge the Juice for themselves based on the "evidence" provided (ok it's not really evidence...but it's fun to dress up like Judge Ito). At some point I imagine a winning side will be crowned.

Here we offer you a short preview of what's sure to come. In this short video we see three lovely young ladies availing OJ of their services at a club. That's him in the chair praising Jesus and commenting on the relative goodness of his life.



For much more be sure to check back with Judge OJ as updates are posted. Something tells me the "Jury Room" is going to be quite a bit of fun.

For a more "newsy" angle on this story check out this article from ABC.com

The Ballad of Li'l Baby Catch-Up and Ashley the Jealous Sorority Girl

Unless your name is Terrell Owens, this is a bad market for wide receivers with reputations for assholishness. Just ask the Raiders and Broncos who are both trying to shop receivers sporting more baggage than Brent Musburger's eyes after a two-week tequila/crystal meth bender in Juarez.

Jerry Porter is learning that you can't run a hitch route with Art Shell's size-15 wedged squarely in his ass. Porter demanded a trade after deciding he wanted no part of the Raiders' new tough-love philosophy. (Which, coincidentally, sounds suspiciously like Ike Turner's old philosophy.) Dig Warren Sapp's verbal bitch-slapping of Porter:

"It's not a family. It's a brotherhood of men. Because in a family, if the baby is lagging behind everybody stops and waits for the baby to catch up. We can't wait for the baby to catch up. We got to go."

Until a couple of year's ago we thought "Ashley Lelie" sounded like a spoiled little Kappa Delta in Charlottesville. This off-season, she played the part of a bitterly jealous sorority girl to the hilt. First she got envious when Denver was finger-banging TO. ("Baby, she just threw herself at me. I swear it won't happen again."). Next it was Shanahan's triple-X throwdown with Javon Walker ("We were sooooo drunk. Sorry, baby."). Ashlee huffed and stomped away from a $100,000 in incentives by refusing to participate in the Broncos' off-season workouts. Since then she has been seen wearing sweatpants and cutting up all her old team pictures while listening to James Blunt records.

Certain teams (Eagles, Falcons) are in dire need of WR help. However, just last week, the Eagles' Andy Lurie last week expressed buyer's remorse over the Owens deal, so it seems unlikely he would deal for either of these Hall of Fame egos who possess, at-best, spotty talent. Maybe other NFL execs are taking Lurie's lesson to heart. So far, no one will even pony up a second-rounder for Lelie. In part, because Lelie wants an extension with any trade.

In Oakland, "The Cryptkeeper" (aka Al Davis) has demanded Porter refund $4 million in signing money as part of any trade, which while likely just posturing on the old man's part, certainly hurts Porter's trade value. (FYI: If the Raiders get some of that money back, maybe they can buy Art Shell a hat that isn't three times too small. Mr. Potato Head's hat is bigger than the one Shell wore on the sidelines Sunday night. Even Madden was busting on it.)

So where will these two wind up? Lelie still seems like the most likely to get traded since he is in the final year of his contract. Dealing Porter just to get rid of him might be too much of a hit against the salary cap for the Raidahs. Of course, this is the same front office that thinks Aaron Brooks is still a viable option at quarterback. Our grandfatherly advice to Raiders fans for this season: score some ether and huff your fucking brains out.

The Panthers are going to the Super Bowl

At least that's what we're told every year. If the Redskins win the Super Bowl every April, the Panthers win it every August. However, most casual NFL observers don't realize how much of a longstanding tradition is the Panthers Super Bowl pick. Here follows an abbreviated history:

390 B.C. - Beyond inuring them to the ways of logic and reasoning via his dialectics, Socrates introduces the youth of Athens to gambling on pro football and buggery. His eventual execution by hemlock, generally understood today as the result of charges of corruption of youth and impiety, was actually because his constant Panther boosting roiled the considerable Buccaneer fanbase in Athens.

1430 A.D. - The Aztecs develop primitive methods of arithmetic, astrology and NFL prognostication -- specifically, which years the Panthers will win the Super Bowl. Understandably, years later, they are overtaken by some Spaniard claiming to be a rain god or some shit.

1864 A.D. - Major General William Tecumseh Sherman cuts a swath of destruction through the South, wreaking havoc and levelling Atlanta. To soothe hurt feelings, he says at least he thinks the Panthers will win the Super Bowl that year.

1946 A.D. - British Prime Minister Winston Churchill foretells an Iron Curtain descending over Europe. And a Panther dynasty, any year now.

1959 A.D. - Jerry Richardson, future owner of the Panthers, boasts of Carolina's chances in the Super Bowl that year. It's somewhat bittersweet then when his Colts win the title.

1968 A.D. - The Beatles record The White Album. Zealous fans interpret the John Lennon-penned song "Everybody's Got Something to Hide Except Me and My Monkey" to contain a subtle prediction that the Panthers will go to the Super Bowl. Mark David Chapman, a fervid Panther fan, assassinates Lennon years later for costing him thousands in gambling losses.

1995 A.D. - In a surprising twist, no one picks Carolina to go to the Super Bowl.

1996 A.D. - Despite assurances from the Illuminati that the Panthers will go to the Super Bowl, Carolina loses to Green Bay in the NFC Championship. Quarterback Kerry Collins blames a "vast Negro conspiracy" for the team's defeat. Sen. Jesse Helms quietly nods in assent.

2003 A.D. - Following millennia of broken promises, the Panthers reach Super Bowl XXXVIII, losing to the New England Patriots 32-29. Carolina fans take solace when their much beloved Hurricanes reign surpreme two years later.

Today - Buoyed by the Panthers appearance in the Super Bowl, NFL gurus redouble their Panther picking, saying they will win divisions they aren't in and sports they don't play. Even when it becomes certain that Carolina will not win a title in any given year, some hold out hope. Paul Zimmerman was overheard saying, as Hines Ward scored the clinching TD over Seattle in Super Bowl XL, that "I still think the Panthers'll pull this one out."

Better Know A Team: Green Bay Packers

Five Fast Facts about the Packers:
-The newly renovated Lambeau Field now holds 72,922 people, or 54,987 Wisconsinites.
-New head coach Mike McCarthy presided over the 31st ranked offense in San Francisco last year. Team President Ted Thompson got the inspiration to hire McCarthy after viewing the zany 1991 Martin Short-Danny Glover vehicle "Pure Luck" on a Peter Pan bus trip to Wausau.
-The Packers play on a grass surface at Lambeau Stadium. It isn't tundra. And it isn't frozen. It's just regular fucking grass. You hear me, Berman, you ungodly fat fuck? (PS - Your Facenda impression blows.)
-During the offseason, running back Ahman Green underwent a radical new surgery in which surgeons reconstructed his left knee using only wax paper. Dr. Charles Goodwin, a renowned orthopedist, predicts the knee should hold up far better compared to the crepe paper reconstruction performed on Green in 2004.
-The Packers are the only NFL team that is community-owned. And when your team is owned by 100,000 of these jackasses, a four-win season starts to look like quite an accomplishment.

10 Yards of Awkwardness with: Al Harris

As part of our 2006 preview, I'll be sitting down and chatting* with a player from each team. For the Packers, it's starting right cornerback and Hasselbeck-tormentor Al Harris. We'll be spending a little extra time talking about the Packers today. Because I hate them.


Big Daddy Drew: Um, wait a second. You're not Brett Favre.
Al Harris: No. I'm Al Harris.

Drew: I'm sorry, but I've been told on many occasions that Brett Favre IS the Packers. So I don't really see where you come in. What do you do specifically to serve Brett Favre? Do you shine his shoes? Fetch fresh tobacco for his pipe? What?
Harris: I play defense.

Drew: Oh, I see. So your job is to get the ball back for Brett Favre so that he can heroically redeem himself for the interception he just threw?
Harris: My job is to get the ball back for the offense, yes.

Drew: Brett Favre had one of his greatest games on Monday Night against the Raiders after his father passed away. Be honest: when he was throwing two and three interceptions a game last year, did you ever secretly hope that one of his loved ones would die tragically and without warning?
Harris: No. That's awful.

Drew: I know. Then let's say it was a distant relative, like if his great aunt were mauled to death in a horrible wheat thrasher accident. Don't you think that'd make him play a little better?
Harris: No.

Drew: Cris Collinsworth once said that just talking to Brett Favre makes you a better person. How did talking to Brett Favre get you to stop raping people?
Harris: I've never raped anyone.

Drew: Okay, but let's pretend that you ARE a rapist. Didn't talking to Brett Favre help you control your savage, primal urges to sexually overpower helpless women and children?
Harris: I am NOT a rapist.

Drew: I see this is a sensitive subject, so I'll move on. The Packers often give their younger fans bike rides during training camp. What other things do the players do to lure children into the team's basement torture den?
Harris: We don't have a torture den.

Drew: I mean, do you use rock candy? Big League Chew, maybe? Did Mark Chmura give you any pointers?
Harris: We don't have a torture den. Period.

Drew: The Packers signed Charles Woodson during the offseason. How much has Woodson taught you about bump-and-walk coverage?
Harris: Charles is great player.

Drew: The Packers drafted AJ Hawk in April. Did you know AJ Hawk is married to Brady Quinn's sister?
Harris: Yes.

Drew: Did you know AJ Hawk is married to Brady Quinn's sister?
Harris: Yes.

Drew: Did you know AJ Hawk is married to Brady Quinn's sister?
Harris: Yes.

Drew: Okay. I just wanted to give you an idea of what Packers game broadcasts will be like for the next 10 goddamn years.
Harris: Okay.

Drew: Brett Favre has often been called the heart and soul of the Packers. But who is the team's penis? Is it Samkon Gado? I heard black guys from the Motherland are hung like fuckin' Seabiscuit.
Harris: I don't know.

Drew: Is it hard to use the team bathroom when Peter King is administering a blumpkin to Brett Favre two stalls over?
Harris: I don't know what a blumpkin is.

Drew: Aaron Rodgers: bust or disappointment?
Harris: Aaron's gonna be good.

Drew: You have dreadlocks. Tell me about the shit they grow in British Columbia. Is it as good as it sounds? I heard if you take a hit of it and then beat off, you start to see, like, purple swans and shit.
Harris: I don't smoke weed.

Drew: Smart answer. Keepin' it on the DL. Javon Walker used a contract dispute to force a trade to Denver. Why has no one else on the team been smart enough to follow his lead?
Harris: We think we'll be pretty good this year.

Drew: When Najeh Davenport shits in the team hamper, how do you choose who gets to Shout out the stains?
Harris: Najeh has never shit in the team hamper.

Drew: What's the best natural disaster metaphor we can use for the interior of the Packers' o-line? Mudslide? Sinkhole? Bottomless pit lined with smeared dogshit?
Harris: Those guys are coming together.

Drew: Let's talk about Packer fans. How do you cope with living in a town comprised exclusively of slumpbusters?
Harris: I don't know what that means.

Drew: Packer fans enjoy cheddarwurst. What if we were to add a nougat center to the cheddarwurst? Wouldn't that help hasten these people to an even earlier grave?
Harris: That sounds gross.

Drew: What's your first name, Al, short for? Al'quan? Alvaricious? Al'Brickashaw?
Harris: Albert.

Drew: That's kind of disappointing. Nevertheless, it was great talking to you, Al'Berrtt.
Harris: No problem.

*via the wonders of the imagination

NOTE: Apropos of nothing, I strongly urge you to read the Johnny Unitas book excerpt from last week's issue of SI. Talk about a fucking badass. That guy never would have played for the Packers.

UPDATE: Whatsa matter? Can't take a little titties con queso? You won't find a finer rack in all of Wisconsin, I tell you. Wispride, baby. Wispride.

...And flubby Makes Seven

Five is a good number. There were five members in the Rat Pack; it took five hoods to knock over New York's Finest Taxi Service in The Usual Suspects; and five strippers covered in spicy mustard and table salt left my apartment this morning. "The Fab Five" has been used to describe everything from the greatest all-freshman squad in NCAA hoops history to the team of queers making over straight schlubs with poor grooming habits.


Five used to be the magic number of contributors here at Kissing Suzy, but holy crap is football season about to start, and we don't want to miss a damn thing that happens in the NFL. We want to leave no stone unturned, no joke untold. And we'd like to do it without losing our jobs, so we've added a couple of names to our roster.

Yes, look to the right of this screen and you will see some of the finest pseudonyms in the blogosphere: "Big Daddy Drew" is simple and forceful, a man both large virile; "Captain Caveman" claims a certain rank among club-wielding simpletons; "Monday Morning Punter" takes a tongue-in-cheek swipe at foolhardy columnists; "Unsilent Majority" talks the talk of swagger over the din; and "Footsteps Falco," regardless of its use in a shitty Keanu Reeves movie, sounds like a great private investigator. Christmas Ape? Well, I don't quite understand that one, but it's more than one word and sensibly capitalized in all the right places.

flubby is part of our name diversity program; we needed someone with a handle that didn't insinuate bravado or pundit-like self-righteousness, but who still wrote with bravado and pundit-like self-righteousness. Mission accomplished. Welcome, flubby.

And welcome, Seven. Who needs to be called the Fab Five when you can be the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World?


(I'm totally the Pyramids.)