Monday, December 17, 2007

Deetwah is French for Bad Football...

I've seen some pretty miserable things in my lifetime. Believe me the list is long and painful. So, as a result it's tough for me to get excited about certain things. Jagermeister Girls, no problem. High powered pressure hose in my pants. Detroit football squad, wow, not so much. Suday bred yet another page in the chapter that remains unfinished in this weird football season.

The game itself was merely a distraction from the holiday madness. Cheerleaders donned santa outfits which I find to be the absolute tits. LTD did what we all know he is routinely capable of and decided that 30 minutes of football was more than enough. To put into perspective how bad Detroit is, Darren Sproles who is about the same size as my 7 year old niece ran for better than 115 yards on 25 carries. What? The guy is a waterbug, shifty and running all on heart. He'd not start for any team in this league, and nearly found himself jobless at the start of the season. Against Detroit? He's a near fucking pro bowler. Sweet fucking Jesus who knew?

This is not to say that the Chargers didn't play well yesterday. They out executed the Motown Pussy Cats on both sides of the ball, and God clearly now hates both John Kitna and Kurt Warner. In fact, I think God would rather some people shut their fucking fat pie holes instead of singing his praises. He's God. He certainly doesn't need a washed up grocery bagger and a never was bible thumper throwing picks in his name. He's fucking God. I think he can handle his own publicity if he would like to. Everybody's got a blog, don't you think God could have one too if he so desired? Maybe John, God doesn't like you. Five picks? Christ man, maybe all of your prayin' is cutting into your practice time...

As it was so eloquently highlighted by Max here, and over at the suck start festival at the Union Trib, we're going to the fucking Super Bowl and no one can fucking stop the red rocket that is us. It's like a goddammed short bus full of retards over there flapping their face lips, and I swear if most of them bent over and took a violently audible shit, it would sound far more intellectual than the drivel actually coming out of their mouths. Believe me, this was a good win, but hey, how bout we save the dick sucking party until we beat somebody with a +.500 record?

I know, I know, pessimism reigns supreme over here yet again. I'm not trying to derail the train that is slowly inching it's way down the track. I feel good about the win. We destroyed an otherwise pathetic opponent. As we should have. So, we'll go ahead and win out, possibly even leapfrogging Pittsburgh in the process. And that's all so fucking great. I'm going to wait and see how the playoff business shakes out now that we've secured our spot. Are we going to win a game in the so called postseason? Who fucking knows? If you say you do, you are a fucking liar. You don't know. No one does. We'll have to wait and see. So if you all insist on continuing the fellatio parade, I'll be at the strip club lobbing dollar bills as recklessly as God's quarterback lobs footballs.

I will however get in line at the fellatio parade if the lovely what's her tits is the Grand Marshall...

1 comment:

EL-D said...
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