Please Still Be My Friend, Crazy People.

Okay, Jerk-faces, I know I suck. Thanksgiving holiday, Thursday night games and the flu have really thrown a monkey wrench into my whole writing schedule. I was a bit off Thanksgiving night when I watched that HBO show, and I can’t remember a thing about it. Well, that’s not exactly true. I remember thinking this INFL Story Inside the Story deal might be a bigger jinx than getting the cover of Madden, but I can’t site the actual SISes to back that up, so I’ll have to hope it holds up and I can dazzle you with that sweet post later. Oh, and no Cut for you tonight. Please accept my apology in the form of the picture to your right. Are we square now?

Anyway, here’s how I see the rest of the week breaking down. Tomorrow you’re going to get my picks, so keep your bookies on hold. I’ll try to make them special this week, and I think I can because I actually picked over .500 last week for the first time since week four, and that’s what we in the industry refer to as being on a roll. Well, maybe not a roll per se, but we are leaning heavily over the edge of the cliff. Wait, that would be a fall, and we don’t want that. Okay, check it, we are on top of a hill and we are totally fetching a pail of aqua fina with this hot little slut named Jill. We’ll be rolling soon. Friday, you will get my curse, my cross to bear, my summary of Inside the Horrid Stank of Britney Spears’ Bagina (Don't do it! NSFW...or anywhere, really.). Yeah, I know that ever since I switched that gem to Thursday, it’s been pretty consistently hanging around on Friday. What am I supposed to do? Ground it? It’s just better that I know where it is. I mean, it could start hanging around on Tuesday night, and then we might never see it again at all. As for The Cut? Well, if I feel guilty, or something properly motivates me (Thanks a lot CJ for taking the Padres. Of course, they’ve been cut to me for a while now) maybe I’ll try to jam one in somewhere. Maybe I’ll even put one up this weekend, but you know that is unlikely, and if I did it would probably come out gibberish anyway.

The botton line here is that I haven't forgotten or abandoned the seven or eight of you that sort of care. I'm human, I fuck up. A lot. Seriously, it's depressing. Eh, suck it, here's some more "sorry."