I sit here at the masturbation station wondering quite how I feel about yesterday. I mean, I've been sitting here for about 29 minutes, and I've date raped all my photos of the Charger Girls already, and yet I still don't have any sense of fullfillment whatsoever. What the hell is this world coming to if a heavy dose of T'n'A and a generous slathering of Jergens can't cure what ails ya?
As Max so succinctly put in his post I'm so deviously pushing down the page, eh, I feel okay about the win I guess. I certainly would have been firing on a different level had the Bolts pissed yet another booger off of a urinal cake in Sunday's contest. I guess the Crows are just old and shitty, and better at murder and drug abuse than they are at footballing.
I have yet to see any semblance of the old squad offensively. The defense looks similar, with a difficult to run against group of fat men clogging the middle of the field and the occasional cornerback foul and/or blown coverage to support the heavyweights. Consistent still is the lack of ability for our DB's to actually intercept a pass (Cromartie notwithstanding) as Weddle had not one but two opportunities to prove that Bree Walker might see some success as a safety, were she not well, a woman, old and slow and have that you know, "condition". Ask Lampley what a hand job is like, no wonder he smoked pot and hit her about the head.
Phillipe (Pronounced Fill-Leap, like the Frogs would say it in gay Paris) had a game. He had some time to throw, thanks in part to the return of Nick Hardwick, and throw he did. He looked especially impressive when the Ravens secondary decided that Antonio Gates was hardly worth covering. How can you blame them the way lil' Phillipe has played of late? Early on Young Frenchy Squadleader became flustered at the sounds of what were boos raining down from the rafters of the Murph, apparently causing him to slightly wet himself and cry out in frustration for the crowd to shut up. Save it Phillipe, get thicker skin and quit playing like the retarded inbred second cousin to Eli no one wants to believe you might be. I remember a certain someone who played quarterback in this town for about 19 minutes too long some time ago, who liked to cry and whine most of the time about how it wasn't his fault he sucked. At least he had the common decency and balls to spice up his self tearjerking with some cursing. He was merely completing the masturbation process with his eyes...
I don't know what the hell to think. We beat another team that we should have. We've also lost a couple of those this year. I'm certainly not swallowing the crazy juice that Canepa and Sullivan are spewing forth from their shit chutes. That's fecal column filling wording about as believable as Scientology. We certainly were not doing our impression of a Super Bowl bound squad, but hey, nobody got bludgeoned or stabbed with a champagne bottle outside the confines of the stadium. That should count for something.
A random observation before I go buy stock in wetnaps and Jergens...
*Fuck you Vegas oddsmakers for screwing up all of these lines this week. Pittsburgh -16? Really? When were you going to tell me that all this fucking global warming was causing a fucking tsunami cyclone in Pittsburgh in near December? There's no such thing until is starts fucking with my spreads. Just so you know, it's 0-0 late in the 4th Quarter. -16? Fuck your ass fat Al Gore.
And just so you know, well whatever, happy cheerleader for you...
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