Only Five Months ‘Till Football Season

16 04 2009

Match these nicknames with the pictures above: (A): El Pato (B): Psycho T (C): Douchebag


After a three-week hiatus of working, drinking and getting kicked out of Baltimore strip clubs, the APR is finally back! Not sure if the long delay has been more influenced by a lack of football news to write about, or simply a three-week stint of laziness. Either way, you better watch your step…cause I’m about to drop some sports knowledge.

While most of you were ripping up your brackets after losing another NCAA Tournament pool, I was busy collecting my winnings from North Carolina’s anal-raping of Michigan State. Alright, so you can’t really call it “winning” if you place third and only get your money back, but I’ll take what I can get at this point. Besides, a poll conducted earlier by my grandma shows that I’ll always be a winner no matter what anyone says…so HA!

Now that college basketball and accepted in-office gambling is officially over, the only thing we’ve had to look forward to is Major League Baseball’s Opening Day. Unfortunately, that excitement lasted about as long as CC Sabathia’s off-season diet. I must say though, it has been rather rewarding to watch the collective assholes of Boston and New York slip to the bottom of the American League East standings. Nothing makes me enjoy Yankee’s baseball more than a left fielder pitching a better game than their starting pitcher. Who knew Nick Swisher could sling heat?

Just as baseball was getting things jump started last weekend, sports fans were also able to enjoy a nice hungover Sunday watching the Masters. There’s no better way to remedy a long night of bachelor party shenanigans, than by laying on the couch with Gatorade,  greasy food and listening to the soothing sounds of Jim Nance. However, I could have done without the tee-shot microphone. I mean honestly CBS, do we need that ground mic three feet from every tee shot? Each time I’d slip in and out of consciousness on the couch, I’d immediately wake up to Tiger or Phil’s next sonic boom of a fucking drive! Even with the occasional volume outburst, it was amazing to watch the two best golfers in the world go toe-to-toe for the last 18 holes of the Masters. No one realized, or cared for that matter that Tiger and Lefty were not the last group(s) to tee off on Sunday. Kenny Perry might have been in the lead the entire day, but viewers were more focused on watching the best rivalry in golf unfold on the best trak in the world. 


More to come after the jump….(still not entirely sure what that means but apparently every damn blogger says it.)


The Office Pool Douche

20 03 2009

bracketdouche1 “Rutguhs all the way bro!!!!!”

The matchups are set, brackets are filled out and sick days are ready to be used for this Thursday and Friday. That’s right sports fans and part-time gamblers, it’s time to pick your one or two upsets that will inevitably get blown out in the first round, throw down $20 and watch as Duke bows out in the second round…again. It’s NCAA Tourney Time!

As a March Madness fan myself and defending champion of two NCAA pools last year, I can not help but feel giddy around this time of year. Since Selection Sunday I have filled out, ripped up and re-filled out six brackets (you can never be too careful). There’s something about looking at that blank bracket with a pen in hand, waiting to make your picks. It’s like that moment before the lotto numbers are called and you’re sitting in front of the TV, figuring out all the crazy shit you’re going to buy with all the money (hookers, a Ferrari and all the Natty Ice you can drink!). Then they call the numbers, however, and you realize you’re still the loser your girlfriend keeps making fun of because you put too much time and effort into watching a G.D. basketball tournament! Oh well, what does she know anyway! She picked Morehead State to go to the Final Four because she thinks it’s fun to say “Morehead.” Moving on.

If  you’re anything like me (devilishly handsome and a genius at filling out NCAA brackets) then you are involved in one, two or maybe five tournament pools. Be it with friends, coworkers, ex-coworkers or even ex-friends, you’ve pretty much whored youself out to every pool you possibly could. Some are free and others require a small (maybe large) fee. The small pools are the testers, the ones where you pick Binghampton over Duke in the first round because…fuck it, there’s no money involved. The pools that involve money, however, they can bring the best, the worst or even the douche out of coworkers and friends. Every paid-for pool will inevitably involve some form of douche-baggery. Over the next three weeks, keep your eyes, ears and blogs open for these tell-tale signs of office pool douchiness.

The Duke Douche: This guy/gal is a mainstay in every tournament pool. They’ll come to work with their faded Elton Brand/Chris Duhon or JJ Reddick  jersey over a button down shirt. They’ll spat off facts about the late 90’s teams and tell you how many tattoos  Cherokee Parks hasthese days. They’ll constanty talk shit about UNC, how the Tar Heels are overrated and how Tyler Hansbrough will be the NBA’s next Mark Madson. The best part about this douchetastic cheering “fan” is not only did they NOT get into Duke University…but the closest they ever came to Durham, NC is the one time they got hammered at a Duke Lacrosse party.

The Bracketologist: He knows the stats, the records and the cities of birth for every g.d. player on Morehead State. He can tell you how many points DeJaun Blair scored as a Sophomore at Schneley High School in Pittsburgh. This kid knows his shit thanks to “the experts” on and…he pretty much lives and dies by the “expert analysis” of Joe “I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing” Lunardi. The douche within will come out when he somehow picks an unexpected Sweet Sixteen team, then texts everyone in the league how “I told you Cleveland State was fo real biatch!!” He will inevitably lose by picking UCONN to win it all because Jim Calhoun never loses a game after 6:00pm on a Monday.

The Chalk-Picking Douche: Screw upsets! Teams like  George Mason, Valparaiso and Gonzaga mean jack shit to this non-fairy tale believing douche. This top-seed picking asshat simply runs through the bracket picking the top seed for each draw. They’ll be at the top of the office pool when all number one seeds make the final four, while the “Bracketologist” is wondering what the hell happened to his ingenious pick of #4 Wake Forest over #1 Louisville! This douche refuses to believe in underdogs and most likely has a Derek Jeter jersey-shirt hanging in their closet, ready for next October.  Pay attention to this chalk-picking douche, he’ll probably end up with your money at the end of the tournament.

The Homer Douche:Actually, this person is not so much a douche, but more so a guy who doesn’t mind losing a quick $20. They  simply love their favorite team/Alma Mater so much,  they feel obliged to put them in the Final Four every year. They’ll walk around the office on the first day of the tourney, wearing a Maryland shirt and hoping this will be the year they bounce back into the championship game. Unfortunately for this homer, the Terps will barely make it through the first round and their $20 will soon be in the wallet of the number-one-seed-picking asswhipe.


 Got another “douche” idea? Submit in through the comments section. What other sorts of Office Pool Douchbaggery have you seen at your place of business?


Dwyane Wade Is Bueno At Basketball

12 03 2009

“This es mi casa!!!!!”

In case you missed D-Wade and the El Heat’s buzzer-beater the other night, scope out the video above. After scoring 48 points and already hitting the game-tying shot that sent the game into a second overtime, Flash somehow one-upped himself with a last second three to clinch the game. Here’s what you had to love about this game:

1.) The new “Hispanic Friendly” uniforms. Thanks to that “C” in 9th grade Spanish, most of us monolinguals were able to translate the new latino-infused unis. The concept for the Hispanic uniforms is part of the NBA’s “Noche Latina”. Since most of you have trouble even speaking English well, I will use my one year of Spanish skills to translate… (here’s where I quickly type “Noche Latina” into my iPhone translator)…”Latina Night!” The NBA and the Miami Heat have implemented more Latin flavor into the sport because of the influx of more Spanish speaking players and fans. AKA, the Heat play in Miami, an 85% Hispanic speaking city. If they want fans people who would rather be watching futbol to attend a few home games, the marketing department knew at the very least, they had to make their uniforms legible in Spanish. To be honest though, I’m highly disappointed in the marketing department for simply adding “El”  to the unis. If you’re going to draw a bigger Hispanic crowd, really change that shit for the Hispanic fans! If D-Wade would have played that game in a button down shirt, with only the top button fastened and  a pair of Dickies down around his ass…Hispanic fans would have been dancing to Salsa and screaming “Ariba Ariba”  in the stands!

2.) Dwyane Wade is finally getting cocky! He’s without a doubt one of the top three players in the league, it’s about damn time he step-up his self-righteousness as well. Seriously, Kobe raped a chick in Colorado and still won the MVP award! LeBron has “Chosen One” tattooed on his back and sprays spectators with talcum powder before games.

Wade came into the league as a good player with a great reputation. He married his high school sweetheart and had a child in college. Now that Flash has won a NBA Championship and a Gold Medal…he’s  starting to let the stardum from basketball and the T-Mobile Fave Five commercials go to his head. And you know what…thank god! If there were no Kobe or LeBron, Wade would undoubetebly be the best player on the planet. He has the quickness of Chris Paul, the fade away of Jordan and the ability to make plays like LeBron. So I say, wear those retarded looking Nelly-aids Mr. Wade! Enjoy your wild sex partieswith whomever you want…even if they don’t include your wife.  Just make sure you wrap that shit up…I don’t want to hear a Magic Johnson-esque retirement speech from you in the next few years.


The $100 Million Face Stomper

27 02 2009

Look at that sportsmanship! Now that’s a guy who does not deserve to struggle in this deflated economy.

Before I tell you this little heartwarming wrenching tale, I must caution you to make sure there are no babies, kittens, puppies, Rihannas or anything fragile, adorable and easily prone to bruises around. Just trust me on this one.

Albert “The Face Stomper” Haynesworth just signed a contract with the Washington Redskins worth $100 million. That’s right, the overweight shitstain who thinks opposing players look better with metal cleets on their face, just guaranteed himself $32 million over the next 13 months.

Go ahead, soak that knowledge in. While you’re sitting at your small desk working on TPS reports, making $32,000 a year and NOT stomping on people’s faces…think about this obnoxiously wealthy asswhipe.

The seven-year deal came early this morning after at least six teams had offered “The Stomper” $30 million in guarantees. This all happened while most of us less-paid and less-likely to stomp on co-worker’s faces were sleeping, dreaming of that three percent cost of living raise we are praying to receive.

Redskins owner and asshole afficionado, George Steinbrenner Dan Snyder, beat out lucrative offers from teams like the Tampa Bay Bucs and Haynesworth’s previous team, the Tennessee Titans. The seven-year deal will guarantee the fat fucking face-stomper $41 million, and could max out at nearly $115 million based on his future face-stomping abilities.

As a current DC resident, I must say a big “F you” to Dan Snyder. I have to roam these streets at night worrying about guns, knives and gang members. Now, thanks to Danny’s thick wallet, I have to look over my shoulder for a fat fucking face-stomper too! Thanks Dan, maybe if you signed more people like Warrick Dunn, a man who builds houses for families in need, your team wouldn’t be such a complete pile of face-stomping horse shit.

*More news from the asshole front, Dan Snyder has just one-upped himself by also signing dickhead extraordinaire DeAngelo Hall. The Redskins agreed on a six-year, $54 million deal, that will guarantee the Redskins another 9-7 season. Congratulations Redskin Nation, your owner just spent over $150 million on making sure your team stays…average. Yay for asshole players and a 90,000-seat stadium that’s in the middle of fucking nowhere!!!!!


Sage Is Terrible As A Quarterback, Delicious As A Marinade

26 02 2009

Sage is delicious on chicken...terrible on offense.

At what point does a successful desperate NFL franchise decide Sage Rosenfels is their missing piece at quarterback? The GM goes through the list of available QBs and probably says something along the lines of “Ah fuck it, he can’t be any worse than Gus Frerotte”.

Congratulations Vikings fans, your GM just signed Gus Frerotte Jr., aka Sage (not the marinade) Rosenfels to be your new, not so improved starting quarterback. If anyone in the state of Minnesota got excited about this recent signing…kill yourself now.

As a person who actually watches NFL football games, unlike anyone on the Vikings personnel, I have seen what Sir Rosenfels does with a football in his hands…and that usually does not include crossing the goal line.

Listen up you purple cladded Minnestoaites — I could have picked a better quarterback prospect for your team…and my only general managing experience has involved two 5-8 fantasy football teams. Here’s my plan for your piss-poor franchise… if you work for the Viking’s front office, grab a pen and paper and write this shit down.

Take a list of all the available quarterbacks in the NFL, place that list on a dart board. Blindfold yourself, take four shots of tequila then spin around 10 times. While spinning and possibly vomiting, begin throwing darts. Don’t even aim or pretend like you know where the darts are going, just throw those pointy fuckers as hard as you can. Sure, a few might end up stuck in the arm or back of your fellow Viking’s  staff, but workman’s comp will take care of all that noise. After all that retardery, take off your blindfold and look at the list of available quarterbacks on the dart board. If your dart had the misfortune of landing on “Sage Rosenfels”, then…and ONLY then should you consider signing that no-talent-ass-clown. Because at that point, at least you would have an excuse as to why you just buried your franchise even further into the ground.

Reporter: “Why the hell did you guys sign Sage Rosenfels? What, did you blindfold yourself, get drunk and start throwing darts at a list of names?”

Vikings Personnel: “Exactly.”

Reporter: “Oh…well that explains it then.”



Bong Bong Bong, Steroids Steroids Steroids… & Brett Favre

13 02 2009
Phelps and A-Rod cross swords while Favre retires/cries again

For those of you who have trouble reading, i.e. most of you who check this site…then you’re in luck! I don’t feel like spending more than a few sentences on the only three stories going on in the world of sports. You know which ones I’m talking about, don’t play dumb with me! If you’ve turned on ESPN, CNN, PBS or Christ, even C-SPAN, you have seen one or all of the only three things worth talking about in sports. Since I’m not one to ram the same things down your throat as every other sports medium (Must. Not. Make. Sexual. Innuendo!) I refuse to waste anymore of your time on these redamndiculous stories. So, here are a few more words to sum up these non-important events of the past few days:

Michael Phelps smokes a bong: You try eating 10,000 calories a day without being baked out of your mind!
A-Rod took steroids from 2001 – 2003: $252 million is a lot of G.D. money!!! Besides….living in Texas will make you do some weird shit.
Brett Favre retiring: …………………………………..(this is how much I care or believe he actually will retire this time.)

The Poor Man’s Guide To Going To The Super Bowl

5 02 2009

Super Bowl XLIII Football

If you’re anything like me, you’re intelligent, charming and devastatingly handsome. Besides being an awesome human being and most women’s fantasy, however, this also means…you’re kind of poor. You work too hard and get paid too little. (Well, maybe not so much the first part.) Half of your paycheck goes towards rent, hookers, alimony or all three.  The other half, your “spending money”, is used on booze, food and probably more hookers. What I’m getting at here, is people like you and I need alternative ways to get into expensive ass sporting events like the Super Bowl. Because if I’m spending $2000 to see a football game, I better be sitting in a box. And by “box” I don’t mean a section of a stadium…I mean an actual vagina.

With the economy in the crapper and my favorite team in the Super Bowl, here is how I made my trip to the Super Bowl a long lasting and economical weekend.

Try these tips for next year’s Super Bowl in Miami:

Step One: Book your flight immediately after your team’s conference championship game. Not only will you know for sure that you’re team will be playing in the big game, but you’ll be so hammered up by this point that you’ll completely forget you have no place to stay and no ticket to the game.

Step Two: Start calling friends who are fans of the same team, or ones who are as shitfaced as you. Convince them to book a flight by simply saying “South Beach in February.” If that doesn’t sell them on the idea of making an unscheduled trip to South Florida in the winter, then nothing will.

Step Three: Find a place to stay. This sounds easy, but hotels will be too expensive on your budget so you’ll be forced to find a friend who lives in or around the area. You’re friend will most likely be dealing with a barrage of phone calls from random people asking to stay at their place as well. My advice, don’t worry about whether or not you’ll have a bed, just be glad you’ll have a roof over your head and a floor to pass out on.

Step Four: Stop worrying about finding a “cheap” ticket, they simply do not exist. Even the assholes selling tickets at face value want $800 – $1500. Do you know what you can do with that kind of money? You can pay rent, pay off your debt, make it rain like Pacman Jones at one of Miami’s many gentleman’s clubs…or just save that shit. Trust me, you’ll wake up Monday morning with a blistering hangover, but at least you’ll smile a little easier when you realize there is still $1000 in your checking account!

Step Five: Grab a flask, some cash, your walking shoes and possibly a 10 piece McNugget to go. With the nonstop bingefest you’ll most likely forget to eat, so grab some nuggets to coat your stomach. Renting a car is too expensive and cabs are few and far between. 

-Also, try to remember that cop cars look an awful lot like cabs. Do your best to not bang on what you think is a cab’s window, screaming “Give me a fucking ride asswhipe!!” Only to realize it’s a Miami Metro PD Officer throwing you to the ground by your throat.

Step Six: Game day. Walk down to the stadium early and scope out the scalping situation with caution. There are plenty of shitstains trying to scam innocent drunk fans such as yourself. So try not to get pissed when you find out that bum in the old school Dan Marino jersey just sold you a fake ticket for $1000. (Come to think of it, I should move this up to Step One: Never buy a Super Bowl ticket from a guy in a Dan Marino jersey!)

Step Seven: This is about the time you’ll realize that spending $1000 or more on a ticket is a complete waste of money. Grab your shit, beeline to the nearest bar around the stadium and set up shop with your fellow fans. You’ll have a waitress or bartender bringing you beer instead of waiting in a long ass line in the stadium. Also, bars do not stop serving alcohol after the third quarter like NFL stadiums, so feel free to continue your Super Bowl binge long after the fourth quarterhas started. After your team has won, file out into the streets with the rest of the obnoxious fans. Grab a bottle of champagne from someone, spray it on passers by and pretend you are actually part of the team. As people come pouring out of the stadium, you’ll smile when you realize you’re just as drunk (if not more) just as excited about the win and just as overwhelmed by the atmosphere. The only difference is, you’ll wake up in the morning with $1000 still in your wallet. That is unless you spent it all on celebratory strippers and Moet. Either way, you still come out on top.

Anything you’d like to add to the Poor Man’s Guide? Put it in the comments section.


Plane Ticket To Tampa, Check. Roethlisberger Jersey, Check. Terrible Towel, Check. Super Bowl Ticket…Not So Much.

30 01 2009

Ahh Tampa, Florida…it’s a warm place with shady people, and the site of this year’s Super Bowl. Which means the influx of shady people is about to multiply by 100,000.

As a somewhat-obsessed Steeler fan, I’ll be attending the festivities down in Trampa this weekend. No, I do not have a ticket to what some would call the “actual game”, but I will certainly be begging, borrowing and possibly selling myself on Bruce B. Downs Blvd. for a game ticket. If any reader happens to have an extra $2k lying around, let me know and I’ll send you a free “I read the Annexation of Puerto Rico and all I got was this louzy fucking shirt” t-shirt.

You asshats ovbiously know who I am rooting for, so throw in your comments as to who you think will come out on top (besides your mom). If you need me, I’ll be stumbling around Raymond James Stadium with a Terrible Towel in one hand and my dignity in the other. Hopefully I don’t lose both!


Here we go Steelers…Here we go!!!!


A Front Row Seat To Change

23 01 2009

You could smell the change in the air...or maybe that was just marijuana"

I know what you are thinking, you didn’t come to The Annexation to read about politics. You came to have your mind blown by incredible sports satire with the possibility of a masturbation reference or two. Well guess what asshat, some things are more important than why Jeff Kent is retiring or which NFL coach just got canned. Some stories supersede athletics and vile analogies. So, if you were hoping for an article about Kurt Warner’s spikey-haired wife reappearing at this year’s Super Bowl, or a story about why Mark “Dirty” Sanchez will be a bust in the NFL like his mentor Matt “Beer Bong” Leinhart, you might be disappointed today. Funny story though, this is my sports blog and I can write about whatever the hell I want. If you don’t like it, you can take your ungrateful attitude over to (Here’s where I quickly realize this blog only has three dedicated readers.) Sorry, I take it back. Please stay, I promise I’ll write about sports with metaphors about pooping in the next article.

Let me start by saying, waking up before 8:00a.m. is something I try my damnedest not to do. There are few things that are worth getting up before the sun rises. Unless you’re expecting presents under a Christmas tree, or trying to duck out of the hotel room before the hooker wakes up, waking up before sunrise is a terrible idea. Alarms even sound different when they go off before 8:00a.m. They make this screeching, high pitched noise…like fingernails on a chalkboard or the sound of hundreds of crying babies. When you open your eyes and see a blurry 6:00a.m. coming out of your asshole of an alarm clock, it can honestly make you sick to your stomach.

On this morning, however, the sound of 6:00a.m. somehow didn’t make me want to kill a kitten. I slid out of bed and felt proud of myself for being up so early. You know that feeling when you know you’re going to be early for something? It’s kind of like saying a big “screw you” to all those people who will be stuck in traffic or waiting in line. Well, that pride lasted a solid two minutes until I flipped on CNN. Thinking I was the only person out of two million who had the bright idea of “beating the rush,” I quickly learned that I was in fact an idiot. By 6:15a.m., half of the Mall was already full. That means that nearly one million people woke up EARLIER and said a big “screw you” to me.

Before our two and a half mile walk to the Capitol began, we stacked on about 37 layers of clothing, 10 to 15 hand warmers, lip balm, two pairs of gloves and three pairs of socks. I felt like the little brother in A Christmas Story, remember when he can’t lift his arms because he’s stuck in too many damn layers? Picture that kid with a Steelers beanie on, that was me.

Surprisingly, our long trek down to the Mall didn’t seem too cold, or too long. Every street corner and sidewalk was lined with thousands of people fighting the cold with good spirits. We were colder than a polar bear’s toenails, but no one really seemed to mind. By the time we got to the lower street numbers near 3rd street, we followed a large crowd heading into a street tunnel. Walking into that tunnel, there was no exit in sight. The only thing you could see were thousands of people, shoulder to shoulder, wall to wall, walking into an abyss. At that point, however, we all said fuck it and followed the crowd.

It was at this moment that I realized how different this crowd was. We’ve all been through large crowds at sporting events or large concerts, but there was a different vibe amongst these people. Thousands of people were smiling, chanting and waving American flags through the bitter, winter air. Strangers were rubbing against each other in the large stack of people, but it bothered no one. There was no pushing, shoving and aggravation to be found. We all were excited to be a part of history.

After an exceptional amount of weaving in between people and a barrage of “excuse me”, we made our way to our specified ticketed area. People with tickets were separated by color. Our silver ticket granted us access to the very front portion of the Mall, just behind the Capitol Reflecting Pool. By the time we made it through security (they checked bags and waistbands) we set up shop in the very center of the first block of the Mall. With the crowd, the lines and the two and a half mile walk, we finally sat down at 9:15a.m. For you non-math wiz people out there, that’s nearly three hours.

With no food in our bodies and no water around us, people still found energy to scream, chant and continue to wave their flags. Among the 22 jumbo trons set up throughout the Mall, we sat just behind the first one. Our energy was exuded when the jumbo trons would portray famous celebrities, congressmen and Senators who were up in the bleacher area. They’d show Beyonce and Jay-Z, Ted Kennedy, John Cusak (thought that was pretty damn random) Denzel Washington and Leonardo DiCaprio. With each face they’d show, the crowd would start shouting.

Have you ever seen what 2 million people looks like? I’ve been in stadiums with nearly 100,000 spectators  and thought to myself “holy shit that’s a lot of people.” But 2 million? Imagine you’re at the beach, you look out at the ocean and all you can see is water. Now picture the ocean is filled with people. That’s what it looked like when I turned around. It was literally a sea of people. Cold and excited people.

One of the funniest moments of the morning was the reaction 2 million people gave President Bush as he appeared on 22 jumbo trons. I expected a massive collection of boos, hisses and maybe a few things thrown at the TV screens. The reaction, however, was laughter. No one booed, screamed or threw trash. People just laughed at him, like a joke.  This was Bush’s coups de gras, and all we could do was laugh.

After nearly two hours of standing around, just about the time my hand warmers cooled off, the announcer introduced President Elect Barack Obama. When he finished shaking hands and kissing babies, he met Chief Justice John “I can’t memorize my lines” Roberts at the podium. Apparently someone forgot to inform Roberts that today was Inauguration day. You know, January 20th! The day that’s been on his calendar for the past four fucking years! As Obama placed his hand on the Lincoln Bible, Roberts started off the Oath of Office as if he were a nervous actor trying to remember his sole line in a movie. Obama, being the genius that he is, smiled and corrected the stammering idiot. (Some people have been saying Roberts messed this up on purpose because Obama did not support his seat to the Supreme Court. To that I say: “I fucking hope not!” I can only hope that our highest ranking judge in America does not hold grudges or pass “judgements” on people based on hearsay. That might defeat the whole purpose of innocent until proven guilty.

Then came the very moment we had all gathered to see. “The Moment” as CNN so eloquently called it (wanking motion) was “President Elect” becoming “President Barack Obama.” When the words “So help me God” were spoken, the crowd erupted into a sea of waving flags, cheers, hugs, high fives and tears. White, Black, Latino, Asian, none of that mattered. People were coming together like I’ve had never seen before. For those few minutes, none of us were strangers. Peace, love and camaraderie engulfed the Mall like a scene out of Forrest Gump, minus the whole Jenny running through the reflecting pool thing.

Before President Obama’s speech, I could not help but imagine what it would be like to stand at that podium and see 2 million people instantly go silent. The fact that he did not pass out with anxiety was already a victory in my mind. Just as Obama has done with speeches in the past, he mustered up the confidence and self-control to tee up his speech and once again knock it out of the park.

The crowd fell absolutely silent for those 10 minutes. We clutched onto the people we love, some even grabbed onto strangers. We starred incessantly at the jumbo tron, tears streaming as we all realized the importance of where we were and what we were witnessing. It was a feeling a will never forget, the kind where you close your eyes and whisper to yourself  “I’ll remember this moment for the rest of my life.” Kind of like when you lose your virginity, except this lasted more than five minutes.

The thing that gave us all  goosebumps, besides the 18 degree air, was the reason why so many people had descended upon the same place. They all wanted to be a part of something much larger than themselves.  More than just being a part of history, but also to soak in how far our country has come. Because whether you voted for him or not, Barack Obama represents the growth of our nation, from where we have come as  individuals, to the future cultivation of our country.

More to come soon, just keep refreshing. Don’t pretent like you don’t refresh this site every hour on the hour anyways. Sorry for the length of this article, ladies, I know you don’t mind the length. Eh, get it? Length? Fine, I’ll shut up now.


This Price Sounds Reasonable

16 01 2009


Just take a quick ganders at the ticket prices above for Super Bowl XLIII. I must caution you, however, take your laptop in the bathroom before doing so…these prices could make a grown man shit himself.

Notice how many numbers are to the left of each decimal place? Then just to the right of that decimal where it says “each?” Now take a second to realize, I found this page on StubHub by clicking a link titled:  “Cheap Super Bowl Tickets.” First off, what asshole at decided to throw the word “cheap” in that link? Some dickwad in the IT department, probably taking a break from playing Halo 3, thought it would be funny to mislead football fans by making them  believe the ticket prices they were about to read…were actually not too expensive! Then we inevitably click with hopes of  affording tickets to the Super Bowl for once in our GD lives and quickly notice that “cheap tickets”,  should actually be labeled: “Who are you kidding, you’re broke ass can’t afford Super Bowl fucking tickets!” Awesome. Another exciting year of paying to get in a bar, buying $6 Miller Lites and blacking out before the game ends. Super Bowl Sunday fuckin rocks!

Here’s a little something that might keep you up tonight, crying in the fetil position and wondering what the hell you’re doing with your life: Some people scan through those ticket prices, see the $2,000 price tag and still say: “I’ll take four.” These are the same dicks who make Christmas bonuses the same  size as your annual paycheck. I like to refer to them as “fucking assholes”, however, some people call them “wealthy.”

The hard truth is that Super Bowl tickets are so GD expensive, because assholes like your boss will drop four bills (that’s $4,000 for those who don’t speak street) on two tickets and think nothing of it. Where as when you drop a bill (actual one dollar bill)  on something, it usually involves a four piece McNugget or double cheeseburger. It’s a simple case of the haves…and the have nots.

So, long story short (probably too late) my beloved black and gold boys from the ‘Burgh are playing in Sunday night’s AFC North showdown. If they can make it a perfect 3-0 against the purple assholes of Baltimore, I will be flying back home to Tampa with hopes of going to Super Bowl XLIII. And when I say “going to the Super Bowl”, I mean “getting  shit-hammered and walking around the stadium in my beer-stained Big Ben jersey.” Because let’s face it, buying one ticket to the Super Bowl is like buying an expensive hooker for the night. It will feel great and certainly be memorable, but once your girlfriend/wife finds out you just spent the entire month’s rent for one night…you’ll have wished you at least got a BJ out of the deal. If that didn’t make sense, guess what…this is me not caring.


The Felating of Tim Tebow Continues

9 01 2009

He wears crocs for god's sake and I still can't hate this a-hole

Have you ever wanted to hate someone you’ve never met? Say an ex-girlfriend starts dating someone new and you immediately think… fuck that guy. You don’t even know him, but just because he’s dating the girl you used to love/sleep with/finger blast,  you assume he’s a twat-rag. Then she introduces you both one night at a party, you shake his hand and smile, but in the back of your head you’re thinking “what are you looking at dicknose?”

Here’s the shitty part: you start talking to this inevitable jackass and slowly start to realize…he’s actually pretty awesome. So awesome in fact that it starts to piss you off more. Beacuse you see what she sees in him. He donates his spare time to charity. He makes a hell of a lot more money than you. He’s bigger than you, stronger than you and without a doubt smarter than you. He’s pretty much everything you think you are…but better.

This is how I feel about Jesus’ favorite southpaw, Timmy Tebow. I sincerely hate that I can not hate him. As a Florida State fan, it is ingrained in me to despise anything Gator-ish. Except those croc shoes, hatingthose plastic slip-ons has nothing to do with being a Nolefan…I just think the people who wear them look like lazy asswhipes.

Like my mother said, if you have nothing negative to say, don’t say anything at all. (I think she said the ass-opposite of that actually.) Oh well. Even though I will not be joining the media-felating fest of Tim Tebow, I still can’t say anything bad about the guy. And believe  me, I seriously tried.

I hate not hating you Tebow.


Breaking News (aka shit you’ve probably already heard) Timmy “The Circumciser” Tebow has announced he will not enter the NFL Draft. He most likely received a message from God last night who told him: “Tim my son, do you know how much hot, sundress-wearing ass you’ll get if you stay in Gainesville next year? Trust me, J.C. has been recruited some young freshmen talent for you. Make the right choice Timothy.”


As College Football Season Comes To A Close, Big Ten Fans Let Out Collective “Thank Fu#*ing God!”

6 01 2009

"Give me an O...V...E...R...R...A...T...E...D"

I hate to use excuses (not entirely true) but I have been without Internet access for the past week. AKA my neighbor turned off her wireless Internet, so I’ve been unable to steal her connection. She’s so damn inconsiderate. To all you die-hard loyal readers out there, if you think you’ve had it rough without updated sports satire to read, just imagine my distress…no internet connection means… no YouPorn! Yeah, it’s been like living in the dark ages of pornography the past few days. Scinemax and old dusty VHS tapes from the 80’s. Well, enough of this masturbatory jibber jabber…let’s get down to sports businass.

Grab your hankies and kleenex people…the college football season finale is tomorrow night. It truely will be sad to wake up on Saturday morningsafternoons and not see the College Gameday crew. There’s something about watching Lee Corso throw on a macsot’s headgear that helps induce my hangover regurgitation. I will, however, miss the linguistic stylings of guest analysts like Bobby Knight …and the ingenius signsthat fans wave behind Herbstreit’s head.

Here’s a little list the APR staff has constructed of other things not to miss about the 2008 College Football season:

6.) Tim Tebow’s cricumcizing Spring Break. (can’t that asshole just go to Panama City Beach and get arrested for drunken aggravated assault like the rest of us!)

5.) Dr. Lou and his facade of a degree in “Football Philosophy.” (With that speech impediment, I pray he gets on the bad side of a teleprompter operator and is forced to read: “Six strong safeties sacked seven serendipitous sophomores….Leth Go!”)

4.) The entire state of Washington. ( Statistically, Washington State and the University of Washington were two of the worst teams in college football history. The Huskies managed a Detroit Lions-esque undefeated season, the first in Pac-10 history and the only team in college football to finish without any wins or dignity.  The suckfest that was the Cougars season on the other hand, started with a 63 point loss to Cal and continued on a downward spiral when they lost to USC in a nail-biter, 69-0. After loosingtheir first and second-string quarterbacks, athletic officials started a campus-wide search for a new QB. Hoping for their own version of  Shane Falco, the Cougars unfortunately wound up winning only two games…one of which was a one-point-blowout to non other than…Washington. )

3.) The Orange Bowl. (Which is not even played in the “Orange Bowl” anymore. This year we were forced to watch another “no one really gives a shit game” as Cincinnati took on Virginia Tech. But of course we watched it. Like making yourself watch 2 Girls 1 Cup, you know it is going to be grotesque, but you’re still kind of interested to see what happens in the end. At least with the 2 girls video you got to see boobies. )

2.) The Big Ten Conference. (After going a remarkable 1-6 in their bowl games, Big Ten conference officials should look back on this season and say “Thank fu$#ing God that is over!” If there was a stench near the end of the college football season, it was the collective shittiness of the Big Ten programs. I thought the only bright light in the Big Ten’s tunnel of hopelessness was Penn State….that was, however, until they put their national championship hopes on the foot of Iowa’s kicker. Wisconsin, overrated as always, started the year off ranked at #8. After Florida State dismantled the Badgers in the Champs Sports Bowl,42-13, the Big Ten continued their sucktitude. Ohio State lost a third straight BCS game. But hey, at least this time it wasn’t for the national title! Michigan had another phenomenally subpar season with only three wins. Good to see that $8 mill is being spent wisely on Rich Rod. Michigan State had a decent run in ’08 with an outstanding runningback, however, they couldn’t keep up with Georgia’s even more outstanding running back in the Capital One Bowl.)

1.) You decide.

Write in and let the APR staff know what you will NOT miss about the 2008 College Football season.  Glad you won’t have to see another peice on ESPN about how much better of a man Tim Tebow is than you? Write a comment. If you’re a Big East fan, are you excited that your piss poor conference can now outshine on the basketball court, instead of getting manhandled in football at Dolphin Stadium? Write a comment. Let your voice be heard! The best comment will receive an Ohio State Fiesta Bowl Runners Up t-shirt.


Bowl Game / Holiday Binge Fest

26 12 2008

A good friend of mine who is not so anatomically inclined, once told a group of us before his bachelor party, “Prepare your kidneys bro!” Granted, the kid was about five Heinekens deep and forced to dress like this asshole:


Yeah, those are boobs inside the heart...and yes that pink shirt says "I love DD Cups." Genius.

 Needless to say, his kidneys were not harmed during the shitshow that was his DC bachelor party. His liver and dignity, however, well…those are both fucked!

The reason I bring up this complete nonsense is because it’s bowl season / the holidays. Which, simply put… means it is time to “prepare your kidneys!” for an all out Christma-Hanu-Kwanzika binge fest. Honestly, how else are you supposed to get through quality time with the extended family / the Meineke Car Care Bowl…without throwing back a fifth of Jack? Just try not to blackout on your grandma’s plastic-lined couch this year…it’s a bitch peeling yourself off that hot plastic after a four-hour drunken nap.

Sorry to leave you holding your breath, but check back later for a rundown of what to expect from the best and worst bowl games of 2008/2009. Until then…go to the gym you lazy bastards!

These Are Not Your Father’s “Chico’s Bail Bonds” T-Shirts

18 12 2008

In case you haven’t figured out that I like sports movies, take a quick look at the url youtyped in to get here numbnuts. If you scan through my immaculate DVD collection, you won’t find movies like The Lord of the Rings or any of the Harry Potter installments. Well, unless you count Harry Twatter and the Sorcerers Bone… but that’s just great acting. You will, however, find some of the greatest sports movies ever made. And no I don’t mean anything starring “The Rock”  or Whoopi Goldberg as headcoach for the Knicks.

There are movies that get you pumped up like Rocky IV, The Karate Kid (the montage scene), Friday Night Lights,  Any Given Sunday(Pecino’s “inch by inch” speech) and Varsity Blues (tell me you don’t get jacked up when the Foo Fighters “There Goes My Hero” comes on. Oh you don’t? Well then sir…you’re just a cumdumpster.

Then there are the comeback stories. The ones that leave you feeling like even a suck-at-life-jerk such as youself can accomplish anything. These would be your Rudy‘s, Replacements, Tin Cup, Major League (1 & 2), Little Giants, Mighty Ducks, Rookie of the Year, The Sandlot (“You’re killin’ me smalls!”), Hoosiers and Remember the Titans.

And last but not least, the sports movies you won’t watch around your friends…for the sole purpose that you uncontrollably weep at certain moments. Granted, most of these also fall into the comeback category, i.e. Rudy (go ahead pussy, try not to cry when Rudy makes that lone tackle at the end), Hoosiers and Remember the Titans. Most of you might even cry just by reading this movie title: Brian’s Song.

You can trust me when it comes to my knowledge of theatrical blockbusters based on athletics. You might not trust me to “hold” your beer or “keep an eye” on your girlfriend…but you certainly can trust me when I say…”I found some pretty phenomenal sports movie t-shirts!”

Before breaking down a list of the best sports movie shirts, take a look at this website. They have a balls deep selection from movies like Major League and Rookie of the Year, to Mighty Ducks and Baseketball. If you’re still shopping around for Christmas (or should I say, haven’t even started yet) have a peek at these Ts.

Top 5 Sports Movie T-Shirts:

5.) So…Ace Ventura: Pet Detective is not necessarily a sports movie, but this shirt represents one of the best football characters ever. There are so many lines that come to mind, “Einhorn is Finkle, Finkle is Einhorn…Einhorn is a man!?”, “Laces out Dan,” “I’m in phsychoville and Finkle’s the mayor.” If this shirt said “Einhorn” on the front, I would be wearing it right now.










4.) Rod Tidwell might be the best receiver to ever come out of Arizona State…and he’s not even a real person! This Jerry Maguire reference beats the shit out of any “Show me the money” shirt. If this shirt said “I’m lovin’ you…lovin’ me on the front, it would be hanging in my closet right now.










3.) Remember Henry Rowengartner? The best 12-year-old right-hander since Danny Almontay (and that little bastard wasn’t even 12!) Since no one could pronounce Rosenbagger’s name right, this Rookie of the Yearjersey is not only a spelling test, but a great shirt. If this shirt came with a full arm cast, I’d wear it and make people call me “Gardenhoser!”











2.) “Kilmer’s Coyotes” were a great group of sports movie characters. From Billy Bob to Moxon, you could choose any of their jersey-shirts and they’d all be money. There is one character, however, one who said such gems as “shut up and hold on to your nipples ladies,” who made Stifler from American Pie look like a douche. If only they made this jersey for girls with a whip cream bikini on the front.











1.) Choosing just one Major Leaguecharacter was no easy task. Cerrano and Wild Thing Vaughan are stellar choices, but Dorn’s piss poor third base play is what makes this movie so great. Picking number one was a tough decision, but any shirt that features the king of sports movie douches…has to be at the top of the list. “Lean into one Dorn. Alright, but this isn’t my bat.” Roger Dorn is such a jackass, that it makes this shirt simply awesome.









–For some reason these shirt photos are being a-holes and only showing the front. Check out the website to see them in their entirety. By the way, I wear a medium.


Archie Griffin Thankful To Still Be The Answer To A Popular Trivia Question

15 12 2008

"Who's the only player to win the Heisman Trophy twice? A.)Tim Tebow B.) Archie Griffin C.)No one gives a shit"

In case you were on a blackout drinking binge this weekend and completely missed the excitement that was The 2008 Heisman Presentation, the awkward guy from Oklahoma won.

Sam Bradford, OU QB and rambling speech giver extraordinaire, took home the large bronze statue Saturday night. So pretty much the guy who everyone picked to win…won that shit by a decent margin. Exciting I know.

Of course, the whore that is EPSN had to draw that shit out like an American Idol  finale. Chris Fowler was one “we’ll find out who the winner is…right after this commercial” shy of being the next Ryan Seacrest of sports entertainment. The first 55 minutes of the hour long show were so stretched out and boring, my DVR asked “are you sure you want to record this shit?” Unfortunately for my viewing non-pleasure…I checked yes.

In the end, Sam Bradford won the electoral college of sports writers and became the second Sophomore (Tebow was the first) to ever win the coveted bronze statue.

Besides watching a young man achieve his dream and win the most prestigious award in… yada yada yada, there were two more exciting moments of the night. The first came when a dozen or so previous Heisman winners lined the stage for an introduction. While Chris Fowler called out the list of names, sports enthusiasts everywhere saw two players who have not been spotted in years. Some claim they are a myth, an urban football legend if you will…one that you only heard about at late-night campfires. No one really knew if these people really existed…that is until Chris Fowler uttered their names for the first time in over five years. “2001 Heisman Trophy Winner Eric Crouch and 2003 Heisman Trophy Winner Jason White.” Viewers everywhere let out a collective “Holy shit…those guys are still alive!”

Nothing says “look what the Heisman Trophy can do for your career” than the success of Jason White and Eric Crouch. They are like the popular guys from high school who had all the chicks, the looks and the athletic talent…then you see them at the five year reunion and they’re 25 pounds overweight, balding and running a local lawn maintenance company called “Heisman Hedge Trimming.” If the Heisman Trophy winners consider themselves to be a fraternity, then Jason White and Eric Crouch are the douchey upperclassmen who still get hazed. They probably get 2:00am phone calls from Tony Dorsett and Archie Griffin, yelling at them to “bring over two cases of Natty Light and 17 bean burritos from Taco Bell… or it’s your ass pledge!”

The second most entertaining event from Saturday’s yawnfest… was the look on Archie Griffin’s face when Tim Tebow was NOT announced as the winner. He had that Eric Dickerson “thank god Jamal Lewis didn’t break my fucking record” look. Or the Mercury Morris “Perfectville: population one” look of relief . Because let’s be honest, no one outside of Columbus would give a shit about Archie Griffin if he had not won that second Heisman. He would just be another Johnny Rodgers or Billy Sims. “Who the hell are they” you say?….. Exactly. If some all-American quarterback who spends his Spring Break in the Philippines performing medical procedures would have joined Griffin as a two-time winner…people would have soon forgotten about the once great Buckeye half-back.

So, congrats to you Archie…you have at least one more year of being the answer to a cliche bar trivia question.



Plaxico Shot Himself In The Career, Thigh

3 12 2008

You would not have to turn on the TV, radio, internet or open a newspaper to realize that Plaxico Burress is a godamn idiot. If you did happen to sort through some form of communications medium in the past few days, however, you would have solidified that Plaxico is in fact…a complete and utter moron.

This past Friday night, Plaxico showed his true retarded colors to partygoers, hospital workers and law enforcement officials in Manhattan. Here’s what I like to call a “retard rundown” of Plaxico’s wild and idiotic Friday night:

-First, Plax goes to a nightclub in Manhattan wearing…get this…sweatpants! Who the hell goes to a club…in Manhattan no less…wearing fucking sweatpants? Aren’t there rules and dress codes for most nightclubs? I’m almost positive every nightclub worth its cover charge has a “no fucking sweatpants” rule.

-As if the wardrobe isn’t enough of a horrible decision, Plax also reveals to the club owners that he is carrying a gun. I’m not sure what kind of sweatpant and concealed weapon allowing nightclub this is…but I’m pretty damn sure I’m marking it off my list of “places I need to go in NYC.”

-After realizing that loose fitting sweatpants might have been a bad choice to holster a weapon, Plaxico decides to fumble around with his gun in the club. Because, you know…fumbling around with a gun is ALWAYS a genius idea. No one ever gets hurt while fumbling arou…BAM! Ah shit, Plaxico just shot himself in the thigh!

-At this point, Plaxico does in fact shoot himself in the thigh.

-Fellow teammate and accomplice, Antonio Pierce, plays the Al Cowlingsrole (minus the White Bronco) and hides the gun in his glove compartment, just before driving Plax to the hospital.

-Members of the Manhattan hospital where Burress is being treated decide to say “fuck the law” and not report the shooting to police (something that is required by law.)

After a streak of idiotic events and decisions, Burress finally realizes he is pretty much fucked. Because after the bullet went through his right thigh…it then moved on to penetrate and soon destroy his career.

One would think that after a person shoots himself, by accident…the most severe damage has been done. You figure oh shit, that guy has gone through enough having to deal with a gunshot wound and all. The truth, however, is the bullet has only grazed the surface on just how fucked Plaxico really is. After turning himself in Monday morning for the possession of an illegal firearm, Plax should forget about the pain in his leg…and worry more about the eventual pain he’s going to feel in his ass. Get it? I’m talking about anal rape. Ya know, cause he’s probably going to jail? Oh forget it, let’s just move on.

Word came down this morning that Plaxico will be suspended by the NFL for the rest of the season. He will also not be allowed to participate with the Giants in the playoffs. In reality though, that is the least of Plax’s worries at this point. If Mayor Bloomberg gets his way…Plaxico will be facing anywhere between 3 1/2 to 15 years in federal “pound-me-in-the-ass-prison.”

Okay, so famous people find their way out of criminal charges nearly everytime they are arrested. Look at people like Lindsey Lohan and Paris Hilton; they blew lines in front of cops and didn’t get arrested. Hell, they could have blown lines ON cops and they still wouldn’t have been arrested. This case, however, is too clear cut…too black and white for Plaxico not to be royally screwed. The charge he is facing, illegal weapons possession, is one that requires AT LEAST 3 1/2 years of prison time. That means a MINIMUM of nearly four years in jail. That is what any Joe Schmo on the streets of New York City would face if they “accidentally” shot themselves in a Manhattan nightclub.

How can you argue that he was not in possession of an illegal weapon? For Christ’s sake, he’s got a gaping bullet wound in his leg, hundreds of club rats and a hospital full of witnesses to refute any arguments. Unless he reaches a plea agreement (which will most likely be the case) Plaxico’s next date in court is not until March 31. Will he be suited up in a New York Giants’ number 17 uniform next year, or will he be wearing a New York Correction’s number 174256 uniform instead? Only time and 12 angry men will tell.

Side note, this might be the best damn article related to this whole Plaxico nonsense: “Eli Manning Accidentally Shoots Himself With A Water Gun At Chuck E. Cheese.” Seriously, if you don’t read Sportspickle…you need to get your shit together and start checking it every Wednesday. It is the balls and shaft of sports humor. (I guess that would make this site the taint.)


Front Office Executives Fix The Glitch, Except…Not Really

26 11 2008

What happens when a talented coach is forced to lead a team filled with a bunch of no talent ass clowns? Just ask recent victims, Wizards (ex) coach Eddie Jordan and Thunder (ex) coach P.J. Carlesimo. In this era of win now or go home, coaches are getting shit-caned faster than you can say “We fixed the glitch.” This trend is infecting professional and collegiate sports like Michael Vick is infecting fellow inmates with the herp.

Front office executives are letting more coaches go than long-time comboverand firing specialist Donald Trump. Only difference, their ratings do not increase like The Donald’s each time they say “Ya fired!” On the contrary, their franchise ratings and numbers suffer even worse. Attendances go down and losses continue to pile up like stink on shit. Don’t believe me? Let’s take a look at fellow combover and firing specialist Al Davis and his piss-poor rap sheet. Over the last five years, he has hired…then fired…four consecutive head coaches. In five seasons, the butt-pirates of Oakland have compiled an NFL-worst record of 20-64. That’s worse than (close your eyes Raiders fans) the Detroit Fucking Lions! Seriously, being worse than the Lions is like being the dumbest kid with downs syndrome.

Unfortunately for head coaches all over the board, many front office executives have begun to take the Al Davis “save-my-own-ass” approach. These executives, or “suits” are simply firing coaches to save their own precious, overpaid, Armani covered asses. When the legitimate reason behind their team’s 1-11 start…is not because the coach is struggling, but more so because the players those executives signed to multi-million dollar contracts are hurt, unproductive…or both. Executives, like Al Davis, are blaming the coaches in order to blind the fact that…maybe, just maybe…signing a player like DeAngelo Hall to a $70 million contract…might not have been the best idea.

So who suffers on behalf of a front office fuck up? Coaches like Eddie Jordan who are expected to lead a team of no-talent ass whipes to the promise land. When the veterans and All-Stars of the team are on the bench (Arenas, Jamison & Haywood) and the rookies are forced to control the ball…it is truly a recipe for disaster. No coach, not Phil Jackson or Red Auerbach…not even Norman Dalehimself could lead Nick Young, DeSean Stevenson and Co. to the playoffs (or the Indiana High School State Championship for that matter.)

The silver lining for coaches like Jordan and Carlesimo will come around the All-Star break for the NBA. They’ll turn on their TVs to SportsCenter or click on to check their old team’s record and standings. Both teams will still be in last place. Their replacement coaches will be pulling out their hair and stressing about the future of their jobs. Sitting at 8-33, they’ll be trying to figure out a way to ensure that All-Stars like Caron Butler and Kevin Durant are the only ones allowed to touch the ball. Meanwhile, Jordan will be smiling because of numerous job offers…and Carlesimo will be soaking up the sun on vacation, smiling while he realizes he no longer has to live in Oklahoma City.


Candidates For Obama’s Cabinet Pull The “I Also Used To Play JV Basketball” Card

18 11 2008

Thanks to the political research team here at APR (aka me watching CNN on my couch) we have been working tirelessly to uncover the candidates for the new White House administration. With nearly 8,000 jobs to be filled in the next few weeks, President Elect Obama will certainly have his desk swarming with resumes and cover letters. Everyone from Hillary Clinton and Colin Powell to Joe Sixpack and Joe the Plumber (well, maybe not that d-bag) will be vying for a spot on Obama’s staff. These potential candidates are currently searching through the Plum Booklike a political version of Cragislist (minus the whole casual encounters part.)

Resumes and portfolios are already piling up on the desk of the Oval Office. They’re stacked up right next to the even larger pile marked: “Shit Bush Left Obama To Deal With.” Since the resumes will be in the thousands, candidates will be forced to stand out from the pack. Even the top positions will have to duke it out through experience and originality. Sure, most of them have great foreign policy and health care experience, but why would one be a better Secretary of State than the other? That is the difficult question Obama is currently faced with. Could the President Elect work so closely with Hillary after beating her in the primaries? Would Republican Colin Powell work in an all Democratic Cabinet? What will the candidates do to make themselves stand out?

These candidates obviously know Obama well enough by now to cater to his interests. Hillary has the experience in the Senate along with health care reform, but she realizes that is not enough to get her hired. Powell has previously served as Secretary of State and understands the rigors of the job, but he realizes that is not enough to get him the position he so desires. That is why these candidates and others have resorted to…straight up brown nosing.

President Elect Obama has never made it a secret how much he enjoys basketball. There have been numerous interviews regarding his desire to play pick-up games even on the campaign trail. Reports have also leaked that he will build a court at his new residence at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. With their knowledge of Obama’s favorite past time and a keen ability to suck up, candidates are including their interest in basketball on their resumes.

Thanks to our insider political sources (once again, that would be me scanning the Internet and watching CNN) these important resumes have been uncovered. The research team here has located the resumes of a few powerful candidates competing for the top positions in Obama’s cabinet. And by “located their resumes” I mean “made them up on Microsoft publisher.” Okay….so they might not be technically “real” resumes, but I would not be surprised if these candidates actually do pull the “I used to play JV basketball” card in hopes of landing the job.

Here’s what a few resumes might look like by the time they hit Obama’s desk:



President Bush “Shocks” America

13 11 2008

"Hey can put your 30% approval rating right where this pinkie's goin."

Just take a minute to let this picture sink in………..

Alright, so if you haven’t realized it yet…President Bush has pretty much dialed it in for the rest of his term. I think he sat down with Laura a few months ago, right around the Olympics and said “I’m done with this Presidencing shit!”

Here he is pictured with members of the Arizona State Men’s & Women’s Track team. “Shocking” isn’t it! I’m sure someone on the track team told Bush their hand sign stood for a pitchfork, to represent their Sun Devil mascot. What I am ALSO sure of, however, is that Bush chuckled his way through this photo op and kept muttering under his breath “two in the pink, one in the stink!” Seriously, do you think a guy from Texas who used to be an alcoholic… who used to do a lot of blow…doesn’t know what “two in the goo, one in the poo” means!? Come on! I bet you can find him throwing up a shocker or two in an old Yale yearbook.

Whatever the case, I’d just like to say: thank you Mr. President. Thank you for phoning in the final days of your presidency and allowing the American public to at least get a few laughs in before you leave Washington. We can only hope that Texas Tech wins the BCS Championship for the sole purpose of your last college photo op. When the Red Raiders show you how to flash their hand sign, you’ll more than likely fuck it up. “Texas Tech is number one!”


Rafer Alston Channels His Inner Skip 2 My Lou, Goes Street On Everybody’s Ass

13 11 2008

Before I get into this new article, let me start off by saying… I’m sorry. I know there were many of you (at least 2 or 3) who have been checking the site everyday, hoping, pining, praying for a new article. To those of you who have been balled up in front of your computer, sobbing and refreshing for the past six days…well, I say to you….SIMMA DOWN! I’m back dicknose.

So, remember when Rafer Alston was good at basketball? Yeah, me neither. Even his former alter, better ball-handling ego Skip 2 My Lou…couldn’t shoot or defend for shit. Dribbling off defender’s forheads and in between their legs is cool and makes for a funny highlight…but unfortunately for Skip, traveling is a violation in the NBA.

Last night, Skip 2 My Alston aka Rafer 2 My Lou, brought out his old street ballin’ skills against the Suns. And by “street ballin’ skills” I mean… “swinging fists of furry.” Alston went AND1 on everybody’s ass last night after Matt Barnes through a hard pick out on the key. The shove immediately flipped a switch in Alston. If you slow the video down, you can actually see the instant when Rafer Alston changes from Bruce Banner… into a street-ballin-Hulk. The video is too fuzzy to read his lips, but I’m guessing he said something along the lines of “Ahh heeeeell nah! You’re about to see every bit of street I’ve got left in me muthaaafucka!” ………Just a shot in the dark.

This Jagoff Is Gowen Dahntahn To See The Stillers

7 11 2008

This world traveler is heading out on vacation again this weekend. I’m off to the beautiful, warm and charming city of Pittsburgh. Except it’s really non of those. Look for my beautiful mug on Sunday afternoon in Hienz Field’s South endzone. I’ll be the guy wearing black and gold.

Until then, study up on your Pittsburghese…you jagoffs!

A Night To Remember

6 11 2008
Hold on to your keyboard and nipples people, this blogger is about to get insightful. Most of you come to my blog with the anticipation of reading something about as deep as a plastic kiddie pool. I hardly drop my humor and phenomenal wit to delve into something profound. On this day however, November 5, 2008, I would be remiss if I did not discuss with you the groundbreaking events of last night. Don’t worry, there will still be a few fucking curse words or two to make you feel right at home.
obama dunk

With 349 Electoral votes and counting, Obama simply dominated McCain.

It all started yesterday with margaritas (making vomiting sounds) at 10:30 a.m.  (Sorry……”fuking margaritas.”) Jesus, I’m not a trained monkey here people. You just can’t expect me to curse in every godamn article! Anyways…. what the hell was I talking about? Oh yeah, pre-noon tequila.
Tequila is always one of those things that starts off as a genius idea, then quickly turns south after you realize you just drank three strong ass margaritas. In your office…With higher-ups in the company…Before eating….anything. Nonetheless, Election Day 2008 started off with a bang (and maybe a dry heave or two.)
Before the Patron and early afternoon hangover…. I woke up yesterday with an overwhelming feeling of hope. A feeling that we would all be a part of something much bigger than ourselves later that evening. I could feel it as I turned on CNN while waking up late for work. Polls were opening, long lines were forming and millions of people were making their voices heard. Switching over to FOX, just to make sure my morning news would be “fair and balanced,” a scrolling headline read “McCain Wins With 0% Reporting!!!” Greta Van Susteren kept yelling “McCain ith Prethident!”
Before walking out the door, I threw on my “Barack. Paper. Scissors” t-shirt and made my way to work via DC’s public transportation. It was overcast and nipply out, but most city commuters had looks of possibility in their eyes and warm smiles on their faces. We could feel the change-a-comin’!
As the afternoon flew by, thanks to our Government Relations Dept. and their stash of top-shelf tequila, the excitement and anxiety grew by the hour. We finally closed up shop, said our good lucks and prepared ourselves for one hell of a memorable evening. Whichever way the cookie were to crumble, the world was in for a historic night.
A few of us set up at a bar not too far from our office downtown. We grabbed a few pitchers, an order of sliders or two and posted up like Dikembe Mutombo. The normally raucous crowd stared incessantly at the four flatscreens, all of which were tuned to CNN’s live coverage. With each dramatic commercial break, we waited for the obnoxiously loud music to inform us a “CNN Prediction” had been made. It was electrifying and the feeling was contagious. People screamed with each state that was announced. First Pennsylvania came, along with a barrage of high fives and multiple cheers. The more states Wolf Blitzer announced, the more cheering and awkward Tiger Woods-esque high fives were thrown. It had the feeling of a World Series game seven or a Super Bowl overtime. Then came the announcements of Ohio and Virginia, Obamataking both. It was then that people started to get silent. Collectively, we all started to realize “holy shit, this could really happen…and happen soon.” It was at that moment that the California polls closed. The state with 54 electoral votes was enough to sling Obama past the 270 needed to be elected….and with plenty to spare.
The packed bar stared at the screen…fingers crossed, waiting as if a last second field goal was about to be kicked. With no time to prepare for what was about to happen, Wolf came on screen. Before the words could leave his mouth, the headline hit CNN…sending nearly 100 of us into a victorious roar. “CNN Projection: Barack Obama Elected President.” High fives flew, tears were flowing and beer was spilling everywhere from all the celebratory cheers. You could hear local bars and restaurants near by erupt into the same enthusiastic roar. At that very moment, we were all witnessing history in the making.
As McCain stepped on stage to make his concession speech, the bar returned to it’s normal octave. The patrons could see the hard work in his eyes combined with the lack of sleep and sadness he must have felt. He was gracious and everyone appreciated that. At the end of his difficult speech, the crowd once again erupted, as if to acknowledge the good fight McCain’s campaign put up.
After 30 minutes of waiting, then came the moment we had all been anticipating. When Obama finally made his way on stage in front of over 200,000 people in Chicago…our bar went silent. Everyone just stared, doe-eyed, clenching on to their beers. I could over hear a guy near me mutter “Dude, this speech is going to make me cry like a little bitch.” Believe me, he wasn’t the only one. People were transfixed on Obama throughout his speech. No one dared speak. Looking around the room, there was not a dry eye in the house. Grown men, women, even the bartenders were choking up. It was more powerful than we could have ever imagined. People were consumed by the moment and everything that it encompassed. A moment we will certainly tell our children and grandchildren about.
“Let’s go to the White House!” Someone yelled as Obama’s speech ended. Without thinking or explaining why the White House exactly…everyone piled out of the bar and headed for the streets. It was 12:30 a.m. on an early Wednesday morning and the streets were alive like Mardi Gras! It felt like Spring Break, Mardi Gras and the Super Bowl all rolled into one night. Every street was packed with cars and ecstatic pedestrians…and we were all headed for the White House.
The walk was long, but no one gave a shit. It was raining, but no one gave a shit. Most everyone had to work in a few hours…and no one gave a shit. People were running up to cars and throwing high fives. Strangers were dancing in the street and shouting “We did it!” It was the most electrifying two- mile-walk any of us had ever made.
After countless high-fives and cheers with thousands of strangers, we finally made our way to the front gates of 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. There were thousands of people crammed in, shoulder to shoulder. Some with signs reading “Goodbye Bush.” Others had bongos to help the crowd keep rhythm while chanting “OH-BAH-MUH” The crowd was big and condensed, but it was unlike any sporting event or concert crowd I had ever seen. People were too overwhelmed with what was taking place to worry about someone stepping on their toes, or getting bumped into constantly. There were no fights or animosity to be found within the crowd.
A friend of mine suggested we have some fun and start a chant of our own. For all intents and purposes, we wanted to see how many people we could get involved in our genius idea. So, we made our way through the crowd and started up the all-time-favorite “na na na na, na na na na, hey hey hey, goodbye.” It was a statement to Bush and to the past eight years that our country has endured. The chant caught on like wildfire. We were jumping up and down with strangers, signing at the top of our lungs and pumping our fists. We jumped in front of news cameras and started our chant. We walked around aimlessly and started our chant. Every time we did it, more and more people jumped on the bandwaggon.
Around 1:30 a.m. our voices started to fade and so did the crowd. We started the walk back to our respective neighborhoods and realized something amazing. No one was stopping. People were still hanging out of cars and honking horns. People were still dancing in the street and screaming “We did it.” Everyone wanted to soak up the historic night in its entirety…and who could blame them. The walk home was just as lively and electrifying as the one down to the White House. High-fiving and cheering continued. People got our of their cars and danced, sang and even hugged random strangers.
For a kid who grew up in a rural-redneck-ignorant area of the country, there was something comforting and rewarding about seeing so many people in my new neighborhood excited about change. People in DC were not only embracing the idea of an African-American President, but we were cheering, chanting and singing for it. Whereas in my hometown, residents were informing local democratic committee cold callers that they would never “Vote for that fucking (N-word.)” Needless to say, I had never been happier to be a DC resident than on November 4th.
I finally got back to my apartment around 2:30 a.m. I turned on CNN, flipped off the lights and crashed out on my queen size-bed. My legs were tired, but I didn’t give a shit. My voice was nowhere to be found, but I didn’t give a shit. My hangover was starting to kick in…and I couldn’tgive a shit. Before passing out for the count, I threw open my eighth floor window. It was nearing 3:00 a.m. and the sound of car horns, people cheering and singing still engulfed the streets below. I closed my eyes, smiled and thought….I will remember this night forever.

Don’t Jump! Well, Alright…If You Must

3 11 2008

Another APR reader who couldn’t handle the withdrawals from no posts this past week. (It’s either that or another drunk ass Phillies fan trying to climb a light post and failing miserably.)

Put down that two-liter bottle of Jack and stop drinking yourself into a lonely stupor. I’m back! If you’ve been siting by your computer screen, biting your fingernails and constantly refreshing APR for the past week (that goes for all two of you) well then…I’m sorry. I do have a REAL job though people. As much as you think I’m showering in $100 bills thanks to the big bucks I’m making from this blog, you’d unfortunately be mistaken. I do, however, shower in $50 bills. They’re much softer on the skin and I constantly yell out “FIFTY DAHRAH BILL” Here’s what we missed this past week while I was out drinking tequila (making vomiting sounds) and making an ass of myself in Dallas.

Well first off, a big congratulations goes out to the 2008 World Series Champions, the Philadelphia Phillies. All those years of suffering with disappointing season after season are finally over! Phillies fans no longer have an excuse for being miserable human beings. Well, except the fact they still have to wake up in Philly everyday. That’s reason enough to throw snowballs at Santa.

As for the Rays that no longer belong to the Devil, it was an amazing run. Sure, Rays executives might win the award for “Most Annoying Noise at a Sporting Event Ever” by passing out thousands of cowbells…but they also win the “We turned the shittiest team in baseball into a World Series contender” award as well. Soak it in Red Sox and Yankees fans, the Rays are now a viable contender for the AL East title again. No more of this “they’ll blow it soonah or latah” nonsense. This team is young, full of talent and ready to take over the best division in baseball. They may not have won the World Series, but beating the Sox at home in game seven of the ALCS….that was victorious enough. There’s something about seeing someone in a green Sox hat, crying into their Sam Adams and clam chowdah….. it gives me goosebumps.

Now that the MLB playoffs are over, it’s time to turn my attention back to the sports that are actually exciting to watch: football and basketball. Oh yeah, in case you didn’t realize it….the NBA started back up last Tuesday. If you didn’t notice, it’s OK……because no one really did. Here’s what you missed while watching the nail-biter that was Marshall vs. Houston last Tuesday. The NBA started off 2008 with a bang. And by bang I mean…Paul Pierce sobbing on national television…again. Before the tip-off of the opening game between Boston and Cleveland, the Celtics smacked the Cavs in the face and showed them what happens when you actually WIN a championship. As LeBron looked on with angst and jealousy, Paul Pierce and Co. were awarded their rings. Thankfully LeBron held it together during the ceremony. If there had been anymore tears in that arena, the parckay would have flooded. The NBA. Where Crying Like A Little Girl Happens

The BCS rankings were shaken up Saturday night when Texas and Texas Tech battled to see who had the most rednecks flashing retarded school-hand-signs. Still not sure if all those “L’s” that Red Raiders fans were throwing in the air were shown to represent their school, or to remind Colt McCoy who he really is. Either way, Texas Tech not only won the battle of who had more hillbillies in the crowd, but they were also victorious on the field. Graham Harrell and Michael Crabtree boosted their numbers in the polls for Heisman Trophy Candidates. All while coach Mike Leach boosted his polls in the Vince Gilllook-a-like contest. The Red Raiders big win, their first over a number one ranked team, bumped them up to the number two slot in the BCS standings. At least their schedule is easy from here on out (heavy on the sarcasm.) They only have to get past #9 Oklahoma State and #6 Oklahoma to reach the Big 12 Championship.

A request to ESPN and ABC: can we please have Bobby Knight on ESPN’s College Game Day every damn Saturday? He may have ABC producers running for the bleep button, but my god is he more entertaining than Desmond Howard. Granted, a squirrel would be more entertaining than Desmond Howard.


In case you haven’t seen, here are the new and improvedhorrible BCS rankings. Let’s see how long these last.


–A little breaking news: The Pistons have just agreed in principle to send Chauncey Billups and Antonio McDyess to the Nuggets for Allen Iverson. Not exactly sure what “agreed in principle” means…….but I’m guessing it’s something like “making sure Allen Iverson doesn’t get fucked out of his contract.” Just a hunch.


A Case Of The Mondays

27 10 2008

If anyone in your office, home or school ever mentions that you might have “a case of the Mondays,” please feel free to karate chop them in the throat. Especially if that person is also smiling and making fun of your team(s) losing over the weekend. Unless you’re an Ohio State fan, everyone in your office, home or school already hates you anyways so…please keep making fun of that guy, he sucks at life.

It was a crazy weekend in the world of televised sporting events. Here’s what happened while most of you were taking Yaguhhhh Bombs!!!!! and passing out naked in your front lawn.

The Phillies have YETto choke in the World Series. Seriously, never put it past a team from Philadelphia to fall apart when a championship is on the line. They did manage, however, to pull two games away from the Rays and go up in the series, 3-1. Ryan Howard finally remembered how to make contact with the ball and pitcher Joe Blanton said “Fuck a DH” when he went yard in the fourth inning last night. The Phills go into tonight’s game with this postseason’s winningest pitcher. There is no denying that Cole Hamels is a great talent and shows grace under fire. But can he handle the weight of the entire city of Philadelphia tonight? Not just Phillies fans, but every overweight cheesesteak eating, Yeungling drinking Philadelphian has their money (probably mortgage too) riding on it. Good luck Mr. Hamels, if you blow it tonight, expect a barrage of boos and chants of “COLE. SUCKS. POLE!”

A dominant force has been reestablished in college football…and no, I’m not talking about Ball State. Florida State is back bitches! The Noles are not only sitting atop the ACC standings, but more importantly, they have crept back into the BCS top 15 since 2004. Alright….so granted, the ACC is about as tough as Ralph Machio these days, but I assure you…a resurgenceis coming! Picture Ralph Maccio as Daniel LaRusso, circa Karate Kid 3. Sure, he got his ass handed to him a few times, but he got back up and dominated once again. If Bowden has his players “paint the fence” and “sand the floor,” they’ll be unstoppable in the All Valley Karate Tournament Atlantic Coast Conference.

Speaking of teams in shitty conferences on the upswing…Penn State pulled out another big win against the Suckeyes of Ohio State on Saturday night. As expected, the game was more boring than a three hour marathon of the Antiques Road Show. In fact, that should be the slogan for Big 10 football. “The Big 10, we make the Antiques Road Show look like an action movie!”

Other notables from this weekend: Michigan lost…. (wait, sorry, that would only be worth noting if they finally WON a game.) Michigan State went into the big house and set Javon Ringer loose on the Wolverines. Ringer ran for an astonishing 37 carries with 194 yards and two touchdowns. Seriously, 37 carries? So pretty much it was Javon Ringer vs. Michigan, and somehow Michigan was still outnumbered.

Oh yeah, and the Giants beat the Steelers. But…….we’ll just forget that ever happened (clenching fists in anger.)

Sorry avid readers, but I’m off to the Big D (and I DO mean Dallas.) I will not be posting for a few days, so try not to hyperventalate from your anxiety. I’ll be back soon enough with phenomenal new posts.


It’s Friday…You Aint Got No Job…You Aint Got S#!t To Do!

24 10 2008

It’s Friday afternoon, which means most of this blog’s readership is halfway through a case of Natty Light by now. Since most of you are on track to being black out drunk by 8:00pm, I’ll keep this post short and sour  sweet.

It’s a great weekend to be a sports fan. This is one of those weekends you reminisce about in June or July, when the only things worth watching are either the first round of Wimbledon or a Cubs/Pirates day game on WGN. So sit back, grab another case of Natty or a keg can of Heiny, and enjoy this weekend’s stellar line-up of televised sporting events. Seriously, this is one of those weekends when your girlfriend (like anyone reading this actually has one) will certainly be pissed at you by Sunday afternoon. What do you think the over-under is for hearing this statement from your girlfriend/wife :”How many stupid games are you going to watch!!!?” I’d say at least 5….per day. They might even follow it up with “Are you going to leave the house at all today?!!”

Get your fanhood and liver ready, it’s going to be a debauchery fueled weekend. Here’s what to watch before throwing your remote through your brand new LCD TV:

Friday Night

#12 BOISE STATE over San Jose State: Alright, so maybe the weekend won’t start off with a bang, but you’ll be so obnoxiously hammered by this point, that you’ll most likely picka fight with anyone in a Boise State t-shirt. “Fuck you and your blue field!”

Saturday (the early games)

#8 TEXAS TECH over #23 Kansas: Unless this game is being played at Allen Fieldhouse, Kansas has no chance to stop Graham Harrell and his 60 passing attempts per game.

#22 NORTHWESTERN over Indiana: Their SAT scores are higher than yours and so is their BCS ranking.

Saturday (afternoon games)

#1 TEXAS over #6 Oklahoma State: T. Boone Pickens can’t donate enough money to make this team beat Colt McCoy and his 80% completion rating.

#7 GEORGIA over #13 Louisiana State: LSU will get nervous when Mark Richt unveils the Bulldogs will be wearing their new, intimidating…………. White Jerseys!!!!! He’s so innovative!!!

#25 FLORIDA STATE over Viginia Tech: FSU is finally ranked, please don’t go fucking it up now!

Saturday (night games)

#3 PENN STATE over #9 Ohio State: The Blue “Royser” Cult will make OSU’s defense “Fear the Reaper” (oh, and Daryll Clark and Derek Williams are somewhat talented on PSU’s offense. By somewhat I mean they are fucking lighting it up.)

ARIZONA over #5 Southern Cal: You heard it hear first folks. Well, actually a lot of people are predicting this, but let’s just pretend you read it on this site first.

RAYS over Phillies: A friend of mine from Philly, who’s obviously a Phillies fan, asked me if I wanted to go to this game with him in Philly. I’ll tell you what I told him. There is no way in hell I would ever go to a game, of any sort, in Philadelphia, where I would be cheering for the opposing team. I guess I just enjoy seeing a game without getting punched in the face, pee’d on, beer thrown on my Rays shirt, eggs thrown at, or snowballs whizzed by my head. That’s just me.

Sunday (NFL and World Series)

PITTSBURGH over Giants: Let’s be honest, this is the only game worth watching all day on Sunday. Two of the best teams with two of the best QBs, defenses and running games in the NFL. Tom Coughlin is going to feel like even more of an asshole when a guy named “Mewelde” rushes for over 100 yards on his defense.

RAYS over Phillies: After the Phillies lose this game, the fair-weather fans in Philly will find a way to pelt snow balls at Ryan Howard. Even if it’s not snowing, those crazy ass Philly fans are determined to hit SOMEONE with a snowball damnit!


Kerry Collins Is Better At Football/Drinking Than Vince Young

22 10 2008

Keg Stand Kerry is looking like his old drunk self these days.

According to the ESPN Power Rankings (making jerk off motions) the Tennessee Titans are the best team in the NFL. Really ESPN? The fucking Titans? The ANALysts on NFL Live have established their best argument as “Well, they’re the only undefeated team left in the NFL.” Ooohh, well in that case….they must be the cat’s fuckin’ pajamas!

I don’t want to diminish the fact that the Titans have had a good start to the year, because they certainly deserve some praise. But let’s be honest with each other for a minute. There’s a simple reason for that success, and it’s enough to send Vince Young running for a razor-blade. Are you ready for this….Kerry Collins is a better quarterback than Vince Young. Booooyah!!! Put that in your pipe and smoke it.

Keg Stand Kerry, as he was so popularly known in State College, PA, is the reason why the Titans have yet to drop a game. Believe me, I know it sounds weird, but Collins is the perfect quarterback for the Titans. Let’s take a look at their offense, shall we? Their receivers are a joke. I guarantee Justin Gage and Bo Scaife are still sitting on your fantasy league’s free agency wire. Their running backs on the other hand, are tearing up fantasy leagues and reality defenses. LenDale White and Chris Johnson could quite possibly be the best RB tandem in the NFL. Combined they share 13 touchdowns and over 900 all-purpose yards. There is one thing they don’t share though…and that’s food. Have you seen the cream puff that is LenDale White? When he ran for that  60+ yard touchdown last week, I guarantee he was breathing like James Gandolfini after walking up a flight of stairs.

Collins works so well in the Titans’ offense, because he’s not a selfish prick of a QB like Young. He doesn’t dance around in the pocket, see no one open and eventually run for a short gain. That would be the VYoung special. Most importantly, Collins is a seasoned, accurate passer, who doesn’t throw nearly as many errant passes as Young. Young might have a stronger arm, but that doesn’t mean shit when you’re throwing those hard passes into the arms of someone in a different colored jersey.

There is one other important factor as to why Kerry Collins should continue to start over the “injured” Vince Young. He’s been to this rodeo and has the t-shirt and scars to prove it. He took a pretty mediocre team with a solid defense to the Super Bowl in 2000. Collins was able to manage the Giants’ offense back then (minus the Super Bowl game) the same way he is managing the Titans now. By pretty much not fucking it up. His job is to hand off, dump off short screen passes or quick slants and sit back, relax and watch his team score.

 Sorry Vince Young, but if you get back on this waggon, the wheels are certain to fall off quickly. On the other hand, if Kerry Collins gets back on the waggon (of booze that is) the Titans are destined to lose in the Super Bowl.



20 10 2008

What did the five fingers say to the face?!

Read this carefully people, it is not a typo: The Tampa Bay Rays have dethrowned the douchetastic Red Sox to win their first ever American League Championship! Seriously, I couldn’t make that shit up if I tried. To put this huge win into perspective and to understand just how Raymazing Tampa’s turn around really is, let me tell you a little tale of what it was like to be a young Rays fan spectator….back when the Devil was still involved.

When the Devil Rays came to Tampa in ’98, no one really gave a shit. If you were not a Marlins fan, which beleive me, were few and far between, than you cheered for the Braves (the bandwaggon team of the 90s.) Baseball fans in Florida, especially the Tampa area,  used to fuckin’ worship the Braves. In fact, most of my friends growing up fellated the Braves almost as much as the Gators. I never bought into that shit though. To be honest, I hated the Braves almost as much as I still despise the Gators. To this day, I continue to say slow ass Sid Bream was out at home in the ’92 NLCS. If you feel otherwise, we can no longer be friends.

While the Braves were dominating the late 90s, in came this expansion team to “Atlanta of the South”…aka Tampa. Devil Rays Owners and MLB Officials were each banking on the possibility that these Braves fans would all of a sudden jump ship and hop on the new bandwaggon for Tampa baseball. The problem was, it’s hard to jump on a bandwaggon when the wheels are already falling off.

As if the Braves fans were not enough, Devil Rays Execs also had to compete with the douchiest of douchey fans….The Yankees enthusiasts. See, Tampa is not only filled with a bunch of Braves-worshiping rednecks, but also a shitload of Yankees-worshiping snow birds. These New York snow birds are like geese in Tampa. They fly south for the winter and pretty much shit on everything.

The D-Rays owners tried to combat these problems with a string of putrid front office moves. When I say “putrid”, I literally mean “fucking horrible.” Instead of keeping the talented young players they acquired in their first draft, like Bobby Abreu,  the owners decided to trade for washed up players with names that fans would recognize. To bring in the snow-bird crowds to games, owners signed the New York favorite Wade Boggs. Don’t worry redneck Braves fans, D-Rays owners didn’t forget about you either. In hopes of winning over Braves fans, Tampa also signed the Crime Dog himself, Fred McGriff.

To cap off all their horrible front office decision-making skills, do you remember their gross jerseys? It looked like they couldn’t decide on only two or three colors, so they just said fuck it, we’ll use the entire rainbow!

Needless to say, it was tough to force fanhood on the early Devil Rays. My friends and I would go to the games just to see the opposing team, or to see how close we could sneak down to the dugout. With 2,300 people in attendance, it was pretty damn easy.  We would cheer on the D-Rays, but deep down we knew, it was inevitable they were going to lose 90 games a year. That was the mentality of every Devil Rays fan spectator. People in Tampa just never really gave a shit. That is, until this year.

The only game I went to this year was on Father’s Day. And let me start off by saying, everything was different this time in St. Pete.  No more Devil, no more rainbow colored unis, no more washed up players (with the exception of Troy Percival.) Even the Trop looked pretty nice this time around. New seats, concession stands and everything was painted with the new light blue and navy. People were cheering and cowbells were ringing. Most importantly, there were finally a collection of talented players on the Trop’s astroturf. For the first time in my life, a baseball game inside the old “Thunderdome” was lively, packed and filled with over 30,000 fans. I could feel all those years of laughing at the D-Rays for making errors and bloopers….. slowly fading away. 

I am not, nor will I ever be a frontrunner. I will not jump on bandwaggons and say things like “I’ve always been a Devil Rays fan.” That wouldn’t be accurate. Anyone from the Tampa area who tells you differently is lying out of their ass. Having said that, I can tell you this with certainty.  Speaking for all the people who struggled and laughed our way through the past 10 years of Devil Ray sucktitude, we were all merely spectators, not fans. There was never an inherent possibility that we could win, therefore we never had the excitement or ability to cheer.

 When you are shitty since the beginning, you have no good seasons to look back on and say “hey, remember when we made the playoffs, or remember when we didn’t suck.” There was no curse that we could use as a crutch and say, “well there’s always next year.” No Billy Goats or Curses of the Bambinos were reasons for how horrible the team was. There are few teams in any sports genre who can say, we have never been good. We have never had a winning season. We have never made the playoffs. What I’m trying to say is, there has never been such a magnitude of shittiness than the first ten years of Devil Ray baseball.

Yes, this is a long post and most of you probably stopped reading after the first two paragraphs, but there is an important point to be made. There is a resurgence in the Tampa Bay area now, and it is all thanks to the newly formatted Rays. For a team and organization that has done nothing but shit on the city and residents of the Tampa/St. Pete area, a successful 180 has been completed. People are buying Upton, Crawford and Longoria jerseys. The Rays have already sold more jerseys this year than the past 10 years combined! (Not exactly sure if that is accurate, but it sounds legit.)

So, thank you to the Rays for changing your colors (or at least for finally decidng on two.) Thank you for taking out the Devil and in replace, installing a legitimately competitive pitching staff and great young hitters. Thank you for not signing Barry Bonds even though it might have helped with ticket sales. Most importantly, thank you for making me care about baseball again. For someone who grew up playing the game through high school, it has certainly been a distant part of my life since then. Thank you for turning a previous Devil Rays spectator…….. into a Rays fan.


Mormons Are No Match For Purple Christian Frogs

17 10 2008

So, apparently there was another college football game on last night? Who knew? While most of us were watching Florida State squeek out a win at NC State…or the Rays blow a seven run lead in the last three innings (Fawkin Sawx!)…there was another televised sporting event going on. But you probably didn’t notice because it was televised on that hockey channel Versus. I mean really, does anyone south of Buffalo give a shit about that channel?

Unfortunately, for those of us who forgot Versus is even part of our cable package, we missed a pretty damn good game. And by damn good game I mean the Mormons got their asses handed to them.

Last night, the purple-cladded-Christian-frogs of TCU completely dominated the Mormons 32-7. TCU laid the hammer down on the Latter-Day Saints of BYU, not only ending their nations-best 16 game win streak, but also ending any chance the Cougars had at playing in a BCS game. Now if you’ll excuse me…I can’t handle talking about the Mountain West Conference any longer. The excitement is just too unbearable!!

Here’s are a few things to watch for in this weekend’s debauchery fueled football/baseball/hockey? shitfest.

College Football

#10 GEORGIA over #22 Vandy: I asked a kid who went to Vandy what their chances were of winning and he told me “Well, if you take the possibility of Newton’s Law, subdivide that by the square-root of zero, round it of to the nearest decimal and use the Pythagorean theorem, you’ll hypothesize that…… the Commodores are screwed.

#4 OKLAHOMA over #16 Kansas: The only way Kansas has a chance in this game is if Mark Mangino eats Sam Bradford….don’t rule it out, he’s a very hungry man.

#20 MICHIGAN STATE over #12 Ohio State: Can you spell Javon Ringer? No seriously, is it Jevon, JaVon, Jayvon….I have no clue.

#3 PENN STATE over # (Oh my bad, Michigan’s not ranked)

#1 TEXAS over #11 Missouri: Chase Daniel will prove to Mack Brown why he didn’t recruit his tiny ass to go to UT.


NEW ORLEANS over Carolina: Two of the NFC South’s best collide. Unless Ray Caruth hires someone to shoot Drew Brees…look for the birth-marked QB to have a big game against the Panthers.

MIAMI over Baltimore: Joe Flacco went to Delaware……….Hi, I’m in Delaware. Enough said.

Detroit and Houston: I can’t pick a winner in this game. Either way, everyone loses.


RAYS over Red Sox: No team can withstand the crazy, maniacal fans that fill the Trop with their cowbells. I just hope more than 4,000 show up.


Wait, what? Hockey?


While everyone is transfixed on these televised sporting events, I will be tuned in to my computer for another installment of the LFL. What is the LFL you might ask? Probably the best thing invented since YouPorn. I mean, I don’t watch that shit!

The Phillies Win The Pennant…Sans Mullets

16 10 2008

This looks like a 1993 advertisement for SuperCuts

Call it what you will:  Mississippi Mudflap, Kentucky Waterfall, Neck Blanket, Camaro Cut, Ape Drape, Hockey Hair, The Barry Melrose Special. No matter how you say it, the Philadelphia Phillies no longer need any mullets or mullet pseudonyms to win the pennant!

Last night, the non-mullet cladded Phillies won their first National League title since 1993. That’s right, the Phils proved they don’t need a shitty 90s hairstyle or crazy ass players like Daulton, Dykstra and Kruk to make it to the World Series. And when I say crazy players, I really mean………clinically fucking insane.

Philly made it to the series this time around based on actual skill. Their pitching physically raped the Brewers in the Divisional Series and again in the NLCS against the Dodgers. Cole Hamels has been lights out for the Phils in the playoffs, and after last night’s performance, it doesn’t look like he’s slowing down anytime soon. Oh yea, there’s also some other decent pitchers in the bullpen with Jamie Moyer and Bret Myers. And by “decent” I mean “fucking unstoppable!” And I certainly can’t forget about Philly’s ace-in-the-hole reliever Brad Lidge. He may not have the business in the front, party in the back that Mitch Williams rocked back in ’93…but at least he’s not bat-shit-crazy like Wild Thing Williams.

While most of you are watching Jim and Pam make their wedding plans, I’ll be :

RAYS over Red Sox: After the past two shitshows that Boston displayed at home, the Rays have too much momentum going into game five. If Evan Longoria and FellatioB.J. Upton can get hot again tonight, look for another blowout. To all the “Sawx” fans out there, you’re argument of “Fawk you, we came back from dahwn 0-3 to beat da fawkin Yanks in ’04, I know ’cause that’s when I stawted to become a Sawx fan!” You’re argument is weak and so is your hitting right now.

NOLES over Wolfpack: “Let’s put the women and children to bed and go lookin’ for dinner.” Unfortunately for NC State, they’re Wolfpack team is not led by Heisman hopeful Joe “Cane is Able” Cane. It’s from The Program dicknose.

*Check back tomorrow for a top-notch recap of the Rays run to the history books.


One Roy Williams Just Isn’t Enough For Jerry Jones

15 10 2008

Roys will be Roys

Jerry Jones really likes players with the first name Roy and last name Williams. So much in fact that one of them was just not enough for the long time Cowboy’s owner. Dallas added to their list of Pro Bowlers named Roy Williams today by signing the Lions’ wide receiver before the deadline.

This is simply another sign that Jerry Jones gets who he wants, when he wants. And apparently that’s anyone with the surname Roy Williams. So watch your back Mr. University of North Carolina Athletic Director…..Jerry Jones has his eyes set on your basketball coach next!

Will Jerry Jones sign the third piece to the Roy Williams puzzle?

The Dallas Cowboys are now Roy Williams squared and Tony Romo-less. At least Roy Williams (the receiver) will feel right at home with Brad Johnson at the helms. With plenty of arrant passes and overthrown balls, Williams will forget it’s not Jon Kitna behind center.

Attention: All strippers in the greater Dallas area, please be advised. Adam aka “Pacman” aka “Make it Rain” Jones has been suspended for the next four games. Now that he has some idle time on his hands, It is inevitable he will be visiting your fine establishments soon (if not right at this moment.) If idle hands are the devil’s play toy… then Pacman’s idle hands are the devil’s huge dildo. (I don’t even care if that shit doesn’t make sense.)




The Rays Have……Marbles!

13 10 2008

The Tampa Bay Rays are for real. After 10 years of busch league play and shitting all over the city of St. Petersburg, the Rays have turned into a real life story of Major League. They are just an ex-con pitcher…. and bitch of an owner shy of turning the blockbuster movie into a true story. Luckily for the Rays, however, Evan Longoria is a hell of a lot better fielder than Roger Dorn.

Last night the Rays proved their comparison to the Hollywood hit by dismantling the mighty douchebags of Boston. Tampa played the good-guy role, using their newly acquired “marbles” to tie the series after extra innings. Rays fans got their money’s worth (finally) as both teams combined for a postseason record seven homeruns. See, it pays to spend that $15.95 for Tropicana bleacher seats folks! Longoria, Upton and Floyd all drilled shots out near the fish tank before the fifth inning. After his homer, I’m pretty sure Cliff Floyd placed a head cover over his Louisville Slugger and muttered “Hats for bats….keep bats warm.”

The Rays will take their victory up to cold ass Boston for a big game three on Monday. Wild Thing Garza will make the start against Lester the Molester. (Okay, so I made up those nicknames, but they sound much more badass than “Matt” and “Jon.”) Look for Willy Mays HaysB.J. Upton to steal home at Fenway. It might not happen, but I’ll look like a genius if it does!! Plus, it will really help with the movie reference.

Oh yeah, and the Dodgers just beat the Phillies out in L.A. to close the gap in the series to 1-2. If I were an L.A. fan, I’d start praying for crazy ass Mitch Williams to be named as the Phillies’ game four starter. Since that is unlikely, looks like Philly might have this series wrapped up. Than again, they’re from Philly….so I’m sure we can all bet on them blowing it at some point. There’s something in the “wuter” up there in “Fillelfia,” …….losing is simply a pastime.

Update: The Red Sox still suck….and the Rays continue to impress. Tampa went into Boston this afternoon, bent over the Sox and continuously pounded out runs. Jon Lester felated B.J. Upton (get it?)  and gave up a huge three run dinger in the third. Evan Longoria followed suit with a solo shot of his own. Matt Garza threw heat, brought heat and dropped heat all night, pitching a shutout through six.

Hey Red Sox fans….this is really happening. The Rays have taken the lead in the ALCS to go up 2-1 over the Sox. I never thought I’d say this, or type it for that matter, but the Rays are two games away from the World Series. And holy shit will it be sweet if they get there by manhandling the fuckstains of Boston. If they can put up another 9 runs against Wakefield’s knuckleball (not a difficult task)  this might be an easy ride back to St. Pete.


Sports Movie Quotes You Can Use In Everyday Life

9 10 2008

Since there is absolutely nothing going on in the sports world today (aka, I’m too lazy to look shit up and I don’t want to write about “Pacman” Jones), here are some great sports movie quotes you can use in your everyday life. In case you haven’t figured it out yet, this site is based around a sports movie quote, and a damn good one at that! So…..that pretty much makes me an expert in this department.

As with every conversation, there are stipulations to using movie quotes. Some people do it too often and use the same two or three quotes for months at a time. These are the people still walking around screaming “Yeaaahhhh!!, Okaaaayyy!!, Whaaaat??,” and expecting people to laugh. I’ll be honest, that shit was hilarious when it first came out. But now, the sound of someone belting it out makes me want to kick a puppy or stab a kitten.

One of the main ingredients in using movie quotes, especially sports movie quotes, is variation. Mix that shit up. Don’t scream out “Get him a body bag” everytime someone gets knocked out in a UFC or boxing match. Your friends will hate you and never invite you over for pay-per-view again. Show some originality in your quotation education.

Another important variable is shelf life. That Chapelle Show shit has been repeated too many times by too many annoying people. It is important to find classics and change them up every once in a while.

Tired of getting blank stares from your friends when you say overused quotes like “Yo Adrian!” and “Show me the money!”? Here are a list of quotes, some with clips, and a few scenarios of how they can be used. If quoted properly and in the right context…histarical laughter will ensue:

Karate Kid : At this point, you can get away with anything besides “Wax on wax off.” That phrase has been run into the ground since ’83. I recommend these gems:

         -“Sweep the leg” (always great when referring to any fight. I use it over “Get him a body bag,”  simply beacuse I have run that into the ground since I was 5 years old. See also “Daniel LaRuso’s gonna fight!”)

         -“It must be take a worm for a walk week” (always good when you see a hot chick with some douche)

The Sandlot: There are plenty of golden quotes in this masterpiece.

        -“You’re killin’ me Smalls” (Use this when someone is generally annoying you.)

        -“If my dog were as ugly as you…I’d shave it’s butt and teach it to walk backwards”

 A League Of Their Own:Jimmy Duegan nails about six genius quotes in this movie, pick one.

       -“There’s no crying in baseball” (Yell this at any opposing team when they get hit by a pitch)

       -“Anyone ever tell you, you look like a penis with a little hat on?” (Works for any umpire or ref.)

Varsity Blues:Pretty much anything Tweeder says in this movie is money.These also work:

       -“Fire that fuckin pigskin” or “Show ’em what ya made of” (Make sure you use an over the top country accent.)

Or any of these:

Caddyshack: It’s almost impossible to get through a round of golf without someone quoting this movie. Please, just limit that shit to once per round. Yes it’s funny and relevant, but if you yell “Noonan” while I’m putting, you might end up with an Odyssey up your ass. Just pretend to be Bill Murray on the first hole and call it a day:

I’d write more, but unlike you………I’ve got shit to do pal! (Who am I kidding, I just want to finish watching Days of Thunderon Versus.  “Rubbin’s racin'”)


Quinn Could Be The New Cleveland Steamer

9 10 2008

You put your left hand in, you put your left crotch out, you do the hokey pokey and you shake it all about."

Derek Anderson might be able to pinch a loaf or drop the kids off at the pool, but he sure as hell can’t take the Browns to the Super Bowl. Anderson is what I’d like to call…. “victoriously constipated.”

There are plenty of analogies for the way the Browns have started off the 2008 season. Unfortunately for Anderson and Browns fans everywhere, most of those analogies have to do with defecation (that means “shitting” for you people from Cleveland.) Anderson has led the crappy Browns (double negative) to 1-3 record. He has bent over Brown’s fans and given each one a Cleveland Steamer .Kinda hard to tell with those dark brown replica jerseys though.

How do they fix their leaky ass of a quarterback? The one who can’t seem to stop dropping heat on his other players and fans? Enter the savior. Or should I say, the Pepto Bismol to Derek Anderson’s shitty arm. Get ready Brown’s fans, Brady Quinn may soon step in and wake up the echos of Cleveland’s past. Ya know, all the way back in 1999 when your team was reinstated.

Quinn, a first round pick by the Browns back in ’06, has not been handed over the starting position……yet. I am sure, however, that Romeo Crennel and his staff will have Quinn starting by week 9. Due in large part to the fact they will most likely be 1-8 at that point.

So put down that clip board Quinn and get ready to finish off a season that will long be lost, but not forgotten. You might soon be a starting quarterback in the NFL. You know what that means? Parties. Girls. Fame. Fortune. Ahhh shit, I almost forgot………you live in Cleveland! Well hey, I hear they throw huge ragers when the river catches on fire. So you’ve got THAT going for you. The girls will most likely be the pale-Midwestern type, but we know you’re used to that shit from South Bend. You’ll fit right in as the starting QB. Hell, you’ll even make the fans feel right at home by losing a few games. Good luck Brady. Look at it this way, if you lose, it’s like stacking shit on top of shit….your team can’t get much worse!

Who am I kidding. Anyone of us would give up a year’s salary to spend one night out in Brady Quinn’s shoes. A 6’5” professional quarterback making millions of dollars? They tend to see quite a few ladies naked (usually more than one at a time.) Damn you life for making me only 5’8″!!!!!


Weekend Debauchery

7 10 2008

Cubs fans still hoping to blame Bartman for this year's chokefest.

While you were cooped up in your studio apartment this weekend, watching shitty baseball games and reruns of the Golden Girls, I was out enjoying the pleasures of life and drunken buffoonery. True, I only remember about 27% of what took place….. but it was a damn good 27%. At least you still have your voice and dignity. Mine are lingering around downtown Jacksonville somewhere, along with most of my integrity. On to a recap of the weekend’s televised sporting events:

First and foremost, a big congratulations goes out to all you Chicago Cubs fans! You’ve been saying “It’s gonna happen” for months, and finally it did. The Cubs are moving on to play in the National League Champion……wait, what’s that? They were swept by the Dodgers in the first round? They blew a great regular season to the Dodgers in only three games? Uhh, whoops…….this is awkward. Oh well, I’m sure Cubs fans will come up with an excuse for their most recent ability to choke. Guess what Cubs fans, nobody cares about your retarded, make-believe goat curse. Or your least favorite headphone bearing-fly ball swatting fan. Your players took a great season and couldn’t hold it together in the playoffs. Now get over it, stop crying and make me a deep dish pizza!

As for the one-time World Champions of choke-artistry, the Boston Red Sox, a congratulations goes out to them as well. Congratulations for not only making the ALCS for another year, but more importantly, for taking over the reigns from the Yankees as having the most douchetastic fans in the league. So please Red Sox fans, wear those pink Papelbon jerseys and green Sox hats you bought for St. Paddy’s day with pride. It is easier for us to spot who’s the bandwagon douche who has never even been to Boston. Rays in five!

Not too much news on the college football front over the weekend. The top five blew out the teams they were supposed to blow out, with the exception for #2 Alabama. The Tide survived a 17 to 14 nail-biter against non-ranked Kentucky. You know Nick Saban is at home tonight, sitting in front of a globe. He’ll close his eyes, give it a big spin and point his finger down to stop the spinning. Saban will open his eyes and say “Next year I will coach in……………Miami??! Nope, that’s not gonna work.” (Closes his eyes and spins globe again.) “Next year I will coach in……………..Baton Rouge??!!! Damnit! This darn thing is broken! (Throws globe, calls agent and says “Give me Auburn’s phone number!”)

In the NFL, Packers fans continued to have nocturnal emmisions over missing Brett Favre. The Falcons Defense, however, had notcurnal emmissions all over Aaron Rodgers and his sore shoulder. (Get it? It’s a sexual pun.) On Sunday Night, Roethlisberger shook hands with the Jags’ enzone and said “Hey, remember me? We used to hang out a lot last year.” Big Ben reintroduced himself to their endzone three times. My boys from the Steel City kept everyone healthy and Mewelde Moore nearly ran for 100 yards. Meanwhile, Jags fans tried to intimidate me by yelling obcenities while wearing teal-colored shirts. Oxy-morons at their finest.

Tonight’s Picks:

FLORIDA ATLANTIC over Troy: Seriously, if you watch more than the first quarter of this game you should not be allowed to vote.

OBAMA over McCain: Town hall format at Belmont University. Watch for McCain to use negative attacks on Obama tonight. Then watch while Obama counters every false accusation with the truth. Candidates must be fluid, articulate and speak to the audience members with candor. Can McCain be any of those without note cards? We shall see.

Off To The Ville Of Jackson

3 10 2008

To much of my reader’s dismay, there will unfortunately be no posts this weekend. (Take a  moment to get a hold of yourself.)  While you’re sitting on the couch in your boxers, munching on sour cream ‘n onion chips and surfing the web, I’ll be partaking in debauchery-fueled shenanigans back in my college town. I call it, reliving the glory days of my youth. AKA getting blackout drunk and making an ass of myself.

I’ll be down in the 904 of Jacksonville, reminding myself of how much I wish I was still 20 years old. Look for my beautiful mug on Sunday Night Football, I’ll be the guy in the Roethisberger jersey getting intimate with a foam vagina (see the video above for mental image.) Hopefully I’ll be reporting back with tales of mostly shit I can’t remember and another victory for the black and gold. Either way, enjoy your sports en fused weekend without my witty anecdotes. Don’t lie to yourself, you know you’re going to miss me.

Weekend Picks:(Sorry, these are the only games I care about)

Florida State over Miami: No more orange bowl, no more number one ranked defense. Shit, if North Carolina can go into Dolphin stadium and get the W, FSU damn well better.

Rays over White Sox: Two home runs in his first post season debut! Look for Evan Longoria to put at least one more in the rafters. I’m sure he’s already taken Erin Andrews up there and shown her his personal “Tropicana.”

Steelers over Jags: These picks might be a little biased, I really don’t care. If you picked up Mewelde Moore in fantasy this week (which is what I did) , start him for this game. He’s going to light it up Sunday night. Steelers may have lost the last four against the Jags, but hey! At least no more players can get hurt right?  Side note, if Byron Leftwich gets in at any point, I might shit my pants.


Travis Henry Hates Contraception, Loves Drugs

2 10 2008

Polk County's finest.

Travis Henry is like an athletic combination of Pablo Escobar and Shawn Kemp. The man loves his drugs and hates his contraception.

Henry spreads his seed like Santa spreads cheer…or like Michael Vick  Ron Mexico spreads herpes. He impregnates more women than in-vitro. He plants more seed than a botanist. He fills up more uterus (uteri?)  than the dad from John and Kate Plus 8. What I’m trying to say is…..the guy likes sex (sans prophylactics.)

Apparently, firing off his boys to the nearest egg is not the only thing Henry loves. Officials in Montana may have figured out why Henry refuses to use the glove while making love. After being caught in a possible cocaine ring, he may have a “different” use for his condoms. (Get it, cause he fills them with cocaine and places them up his anal cavity.) Sorry, those are just medical facts people. On to why he got arrested and just how fucked he really is.

Henry was arrested yesterday after attempting to buy cocaine from a person cooperating with the authorities. At first it doesn’t sound all that bad. He tried to buy some coke and got caught, big deal. As you read on, however,  conspiring to distribute and possess with the intent to distribute cocaine…kinda turns out to be a big fucking deal. You can read all the jargon, details and just how screwed Henry is in the arrest warrant affidavit.

Seriously, that thing reads like a possible movie scipt. The story of Travis Henry alone has all the makings of a Hollywood blockbuster. Money, fame, greed, unprotected sex…add to that drug trafficking and you’ve got yourself a box-office hit! I can already see Maurice Clarett in his big screen debut, playing the part of Travis Henry (at least there wouldn’t be much “acting” involved.)

There would be a scene were Henry and his drug dealer are arguing, the dealer forgetting to pay Henry the money he owes him. Henry demands his money, smacks the man in the face and yells…..”Muthafucka, I got kids to feed!! All seven of ’em!” A man then whispers something in Henry’s ear. With a confused look on his face he screams “Nine?!! Nine kids?!! Damn! I can never keep count of those little fuckers. They’re like Gremlins, they just keep multiplyin.”

Every good movie needs a good title. Post your comment of what you think would be the best title. The most creative title will receive an 8-ball autographed by Travis Henry.



No One Saw This Coming…

1 10 2008

"I need an I-Right, Button-Hook-Doublecheesburger. Hit the McNuggets on a Post Route with a Large Fry Quick Slant."

Two of the most storied franchises in NFL history have parted ways with their head coaches. Ah, who am I kidding…it’s the fucking Rams and Raiders!

It was a sad day for Oakland and St. Louis fans yesterday as Raiders coach Lane Kiffin and Rams coach Scott Linehan were both shown the door. And when I say a “sad” day for fans, I mean “nobody gave a shit.” Seriously, do people in St. Louis even know it’s football season now? Most are too busy crying over the Cardinals not making the playoffs to worry about how many games Marc Bulger is not winning. As for Raiders fans, they’re too consumed with what ridiculous costume and makeup they should wear to the next home game. “Welcome to the Black Hole bitch! Now seriously, who stole my fucking eyeliner!!”

No one can really do worse than either of these coaches, but does anyone really expect someone to do better? In the past six years, the Raiders have hired…AND fired five different coaches. Is it any wonder why the players can’t get their shit together? Can you imagine having to deal with a new boss every year? How do you take them seriously when you know Al Davis is just waiting to shitcan your coach at the end….or beginning of every season.

Scott Linehan and the Rams, on the other hand, have won only one game since the start of last season. One. Damn. Game! Corky from Life Goes On could strap on a headset (probably backwards) and lead a team to more victories! The fecal-covered silver lining, however, for St. Louis, is their replacement for the bum that was Linehan. Jim Haslett, their current defensive coordinator, has been handed over the reigns. If anyone knows what it’s like to lead a bunch of no-talent-ass-clowns to victory, it certainly is Haslett. The one-time NFL Coach of the Year, turned the previously cardiac Saints into a playoff team in 2000. So yeah, he’s got THAT going for him.

The bad news for Linehan and Kiffin is our economy is in the crapper! Good luck finding a job in this economical recession. But hey, look at it this way, I’m sure you’ll land a job where you can still where a headset! So yeah, you’ve got THAT going for you.

(I have this mental image of Al Davis walking into a McDonald’s in a few months….the one where Lane Kiffin is working. Al says hello, orders his food and waits for his McChicken. When Kiffin hands him the sandwich, Al Davis opens it up and slowly looks up at Kiffin with his evil stare. Davis slams his fist down and throws the McChicken in Kiffin’s face while screaming, “What part of NO. FUCKING. MAYONNAISE. don’t you understand!!!!”)


Quick, Does Anyone Know The Heimlich!??

30 09 2008

If you listen closely, you can actually hear the sound of grown men crying in Queens. Or maybe that’s just the sound of the New York Mets choking on the dick that is the MLB playoffs.

The New York Mets have failed to make the NL playoffs for the second year in a row. I know, SHOCKING isn’t it!? For a team with the fourth highest payroll in the league, you’d think they’d have the tools to not only make the playoffs, but be competing for a National League Championship. If you’re a New York Mets executive, however, you’re in luck! It just so happens that I, a man with no Major League managing experience, have some innovative ideas for your organization. Maybe next year you can try these tactics to turn a good regular season team, into a dominating playoff team.


How can the Mets turn things around next year? Listen up Mr. Met, GM Dunn can help:

  1. Ya know that pitcher from Minnesota? The Santana kid? Yeah, yeah, “Black Magic Woman” is a great song, but let’s focus on baseball for a minute. Sign Johan and sign him now! I don’t care how much it will cost, $100 mil, $200 mil, just do it. Guarantee him something obnoxious like $137 million. Make him the highest paid pitcher in history, he is a one way ticket to the NLDS. Say what now? You did what? You signed Santana to a record breaking $151 million contract in February? Allllrright then. Well, try this. This ALWAYS works….
  2. If you’re unsatisfied with your manager two months into the season, just call him up and let him know the organization is moving forward without him. (Make sure you call after 3:00am, it really catches them off guard and they can’t argue when they’re still sleeping.) What’s that? You tried that EXACT same thing this year and it didn’t work? Yikes! Well………….you guys are just fucked.

A Win For Tryson

29 09 2008

There are few stories in sports that are worth noting without humor. Some athletes and performances, however, deserve to be credited sans mockery. In the case of kicker Matt Bryant’s stellar performance yesterday, this is one of those stories.

Kickers rarely get the respect they deserve. They perform under intense scrutiny from fans and coaches and are thrown into the fire when they perform badly. The pressure of a kicker is enough to make a sane man crazy (i.e. Ray Finkel. “Laces out Dan!”) Sorry, just couldn’t help myself. To perform under the bright lights and screaming fans takes a tremendous amount of strength. For Bucs kicker Matt Bryant, that strength has never been greater than in yesterday’s game against the Packers.

Matt Bryant showed more than just the strength of his leg in Sunday’s game. He also showed us the strength of a man’s heart and his will power. After losing his son just days before the game, Bryant mustered up the courage to play on Sunday. He buried his four-month-old son on Saturday, and laced up his cleats for the toughest game of his life. Determined to have a perfect game, Bryant told the press he was hoping to go 3-for-3, no questions asked. He wanted to honor his son, Tryson, by playing to the best of his ability. Little did Bryant know he would have the game of his career. Not only did Bryant go 3-for-3, but he also managed to put in the game-winning field goal.

Bryant did more than win a game on Sunday, he showed the courage a man can find within himself. The courage to fight through raw emotion and perform. Most importantly, he found the courage to move on. There are thousands of broken hearts who lose a loved one every day. We suffer through the rollercoaster of emotions and look to our friends and family for immediate support. We take our “greivance days” from work to reflect on the person we loved and lost. We then search for strength and hopefully find enough to get back to our everyday lives. For most of us, however, we do all this in privacy. We are not forced to perform under the bright lights with millions of people watching. When professional athletes go back to their everyday lives, they have critics and fans watching. People judging their performance and wondering if and when they will “be back to normal.” For the courage and strength to fight through those emotions, under the pressure of a national stage, I commend you Mr. Bryant.

One last thing. This site will rarely see an emotional or heartwarming story. I like to keep the mood high with mockery and witty banter for the most part. There will not be many Tom Rinaldy-esque tear jerker reports on The Annexation. This story, this kicker, however, deserve the same credit and respect shown to Brett Favre after he lost his father. Matt Bryant’s perfect preformance should not go overlooked and neither should the love he has for his son.


The Devil Rays Did What?!!

28 09 2008

Champagne? This is Tropicana Extra Pulp muthafucka!

The Tampa Bay Rays won the AL East? Err what?! That’s like telling me Santa Clause was seen riding a unicorn while being blown by the tooth fairy. Or that Red Sox fans are NOT douchebags or Yankees fans are NOT assholes. Sorry, but having grown up in the Tampa area I know better than to trust anyone when they use the words “Rays” and “win” in the same sentence.

The Devil Rays, however, have in fact captured their first divisional title…ever. Hell, they had their first winning season…ever. They made it to their first postseason…ever. Better yet, they won more than 70 games for the first time since…well, never!

The sweetest part of all this, besides all the firsts for the Rays’ organization (those are nice and all), but the real icing on the cake is who the Rays had to overthrow to win their first AL East title. Thanks to Tampa’s 90 plus wins, the New York Yankees will be sitting on their asses this October for the first time since 1993. A-Rod will have plenty of time to search for his new muscular soul mate and Jeter will be spending time running through Lyla Garrity from Friday Night Lights (damn you Jeter, you always find a way to win!)

Congrats to the Rays! They deserve all their successes. The organization went out and grabbed the right tools to build a competitive team for the first time since their inception into the majors. With a solid pitching staff anchored by Scott Kazmir and Troy Percival, the Rays can compete defensively with any team in the playoffs. Most importantly, with the health of presumptive R.O.Y. Evan Longoria, their offense will continue to put up numbers.

–Yeah, I’m going to cheer for the Rays, so get your “bandwagon” comments out of the way now. I’m going to cheer because I remember going to the Trop in high school and watching Wade Boggs get his 3,000 hit. I’m rooting for the Rays because I remember being one of 4,000 people in a stadium that seats over 45,000. I’m rooting for the Rays because fuck the Red Sox! If during the Rays’ playoff run, a Red Sox fan yells “fruntrunah!” at me,  I’m going to pour a Sam Adams Oktoberfest on their brand new Papelbon jersey-shirt!


Trojans Go Limp Against Beavers…Again

26 09 2008
Trojan-Enz their perfect season

Thursday night Pac-10 football! (Must. Control. Excitement!) While most of us were watching the season premier of The Office, a little game was being played over on ESPN. USC travelled up to that little town in Oregon where Trojans go to die, when they faced up against Oregon State last night in Corvallis. USC went into last night’s game ranked number one in the country. Oregon State on the other hand, went into last night’s game as the number one team most likely to get their asses handed to them by a BIG 10 team.

In between watching Michael Scott in a fat suit and Dwight blasting Angela out in the warehouse, I occasionally flipped back to the shitshow that was USC vs. OSU. I tuned in just in time to see Erin Andrews reporting at the half. I’d like to show her “Beaver” my “Trojan” if you know what I mean (wink, wink.) Get it, I’m talking about intercourse.
Moving on, The Trojans’ number one ranked defense somehow shit the bed in the first half, allowing the Beavers to put up 21 points to their zero. The biggest, fastest D in the nation could not stop the smallest, youngest running back. A 5’7” freshman ran all over USC’s D like a pre-drepresed Vince Young. 
The Trojans started off the second half with two possessions and two TDs (where the hell was that the first half!?) In the fourth quarter, the Beavers had an opportunity to make it a two possession game, but a back-up kicker’s line drive was met by a USC lineman’s hand. 
Just when the Song Girls thought they had something to cheer about, the Beavers’ D stepped up and gave Mark a dirty Sanchez by intercepting his pass and running it back to the 2-yard-line. The freshman Beaver then added onto his 187-yard total by punching it in for the cous de gras.
USC came back for one last drive led by  QB John David Booty Mark Sanchez. Meanwhile on the sideline, Erin Andrews was seeking refuge from the 30,000 drunk, horny college students who had jumped onto the field. Sanchez was able to lob one in for 6, but it was too little too late for the Trojans.
Can’t say I feel too sorry for Sanchez and his fourth quarter interception. Take the feeling of that loss and combine it with the fact that he is single, lives in LA and is the starting quarterback for USC. Who cares about the OSU Beavers when you’ve got plenty of LA beaver chasing you around campus.
Oregon State – 27
Southern Cal – 21

A New Breed Of Football Fans: The Fantasy Football Douche

25 09 2008

My new fantasy tight end

It is estimated that over 50 million Americans are participants in some form of fantasy football. And why not? It’s fun, competitive and there’s a slim possibility you might win a decent amount of money. It brings friends together and gives us something to make fun of each other for every Tuesday morning.

There is, however, a downside. A growing trend, or should I say a “virus” infecting fantasy team owners everywhere. Thanks to hundreds of fantasy leagues all over the country, there is a new breed of football fans: The fantasy football douche.

Anyone involved in a fantasy league has seen it. Hell, most of us have been the main culprit at one time or another. We start checking our Yahoo and ESPN leagues every hour on the hour. What new players are available? Should I pick up another running back off waivers? Before you know it, the damn league consumes you. You’re throwing out trades to every owner in the league because Tom Brady’s knee just fucked your team in the ass. Should you start Ronnie Brown over Steven Jackson? Ronnie Brown? Please, he will not do shit against the Patriots’ defense. Wait…What’s that? He ran for four touchdowns and threw for one, on his way to over 40 godamn points?!!!!!! Seriously, it’s all enough to warrant a fantasy aneurysm. It’s like taking a hit of fantasy football crack, once you get a taste, you can’t get enough.

Every league undoubtably has a fantasy football douche. Here are some of the tell-tale signs:

Signs of a fantasy football douche….

–He/She still has a team named after Michael Vick (i.e. RonMexio’sKennel )

–He/she purchased “DraftKit” and “StatTracker” (you know this because they have a tendency to remind you every fucking week)

–They check “StatTracker” during every game and say things like “I need Willie Parker to score one more TD”

— He/She is cheering for Willie Parker to score that last TD…and they’re a damn Browns fan

–He/She will not go to a bar to watch the games unless they have WiFi

–He/She checks their iPhone after every. single. possession. 

–Last but not least. If he or she happens to win the fantasy football league and actually purchases a fantasy football championship ring, then he or she is without a doubt, hands down, no questions asked… a fantasy football douche.


Expect A Victory Riot In Detroit Very, Very Soon

24 09 2008
"I swear on my job Joey, I will find you a receiver"

"I'll draft you another receiver Joey...But you gotta do something 'special' for me first."

After eight miserable years with the Detroit Lions, Matt Millen has finally packed up his shit and moved out of the beautiful Motor City (my guess is he’s NOT driving away in a Ford.)

 Reports were scattered earlier this week that William Clay Ford, Jr (son of the Lions’ owner) was fed up with Millen in Detroit and stated if he were the owner, Millen would be gone. Well, it did not take long for father’s actions to follow his son’s words. Based on ESPN reports, Matthew George Millen has finally been relieved of his duties as President and CEO. And by duties I mean actual dooty….seriously, the man shit all over the franchise for the past decade.

Millen is infamous for drafting Pro Bowlers shitstains like Joey Harrington, Charles Rodgers and Mike Williams with Detroit’s first round picks. Over the years, Millen has taken a weak franchise and turned it into an utter shitshow. He is the reason why the Lion’s number one selling jersey is still a guy who retired 10 fucking years ago! He is the reason Detroit fans cry themselves to sleep at night (take that back, actually that’s because they live in Detroit.)
So long Mr. Millen. I am sure the city of Detroit will be rioting in your honor tonight. If you’re still looking for some good receivers, check out 8 Mile. You can pay someone a hell of a lot less than Charles Rodgers and I’m sure they’d be more than happy to play “receiver.”

The Start Of Something Great / Possibly Horrible

23 09 2008
Errict Rhett had more "R's" than touchdowns

Errict Rhett couldn't spell first names OR score touchdowns

 The wait is finally over. You can all collectively take a breath. No more late nights crying yourself to sleep wondering “will the first installment of APR (Annexation Of Puerto Rico) be tomorrow?” Dry those tears ladies and gents, you’re going to need to see clearly to read all this phenomenal sports satire! Alright, enough of this tomfoolery, let’s get this sports-humor-party started.

I started this website/blog so that I may type words in hopes that you may read them. There are no promises as to how incredible each article or post will be, but my hope is to get a chuckle out of a few of you. Not ‘gonna lie, this might start off a little bumpy. There will more than likely be bad articles (this one) before there are great ones. Like an early 80’s fan of the Tampa Bay Bucs, I beg of you…bare with me. After a few rough posts/tags and what not, I will soon get the hang of this whole “internet” thing. Sure, there might be a few mispellings or grammatical mistakes here and there. But let’s be honest, you have no idea how to use “affect” and “effect” correctly either, so who cares.

Just like the Bucs, things might start off a little rough around here. I might have my Vinny Testaverde moments, but it will not be long before I’m running over articles like Michael Pittman’s Hummer. For reassurance however, here are some things I have going for me that the orange-cladded Bucs of the late 70s and 80s did not:


Differences between Early Bucs and APR (Annexation of Puerto Rico)

              Early Bucs                   vs.                     APR

-started off 0-26 in first two seasons                 – well shit, I can’t be THAT bad

-Testaverde was color-blind                               – I can destinguish colors

-Errict Rhett spelled his name E-r-r-i-c-t          – I can’t even pronounce that


I’ll keep the first article short and sweet. There will be much more to come in the future (that’s what she said) including, but not limited to: articles about politics, music, celebrities and movies. But for all intents and purposes, check out this site when you want to read about sports, that’s what i’ll be writing about.