NFL fan explains he was merely looking up woman’s skirt during anthem, not protesting

Hammond, IN-There was an uproar at an unofficial Buffalo Wild Wings franchise, which turned out was just a tube TV, a case of keyboard duster and several live chickens under a pier in Hammond Indiana, on Sunday morning. As a group of inbred shit bags prepared to watch football, huff duster, skid out their undies and perhaps slaughter a few chickens, they quickly mistook an Arby’s commercial for the National Anthem and promptly removed any soiled burlap sacks resting on their heads. But one lowlife goddamn coward decided to kneel.

Doing duster and threatening a malnourished chicken in the same language those aliens used in Avatar during the anthem is acceptable, kneeling is strictly forbidden. Protesting correctly is no protesting at all. It means giving up. Succumbing. Settling. Protesting is eating a case of Slim Jims at halftime and pissing your pants because going to the bathroom is simply too much effort.

Fortunately the crisis was averted, because there was, in fact, no protest of the atrocities occurring in the country. As it was explained later, the man was kneeling in order to see up the skirt of a woman which turned out to be a mud sculpture of Steve Harvey. Thank god. Nothing to see here, just sexually harassing an inanimate object. Now who wants to continue to ignore social injustices and watch some FUCKING football you brain dead shit heads!?

Fantasy Football Love/Hate Haikus Week 1


RGIII vs. Eagles
A crying baby
Finally gets a bottle
Full of warm cheese steak


Matthew Stafford vs. Colts
Indy Bar Louie
Worse than Detroit Bar Louie
Players eat for free


Jameis Winston vs. Falcons
Snow crab or king crab?
Or withering bird of flight?
Raw wing in hot butter



Any Dalton vs. Jets
Something that burned
Is now smoldering embers
Red rocket turns beige


Jay Cutler vs. Texans
A Virginia Slim
Can’t bear the weight of a steer
Cancer stick gets gored


Matt Ryan vs. Buccaneers
Lukewarm Smirnoff Ice
On the tile, of a bathroom
Which is soaked in piss


Running Backs

Eddie Lacy vs. Jaguars
Krispy Kreme is closed
An abandoned Pizza Hut
Crust is stuffed with Kale


Arian Foster vs. Seahawks
Corpse recovery
A new war of attrition
Waged against a game


Rashad Jennings vs. Cowboys
Wrinkled hands pull rope
To fly the sail, for three games
Before injury


Jeremy Langford vs. Texans
A thread bare sweater
The frail web of a spider
Bears offensive line


Jeremy Hill vs. Jets
That moment in time
A realization of dull
Straight to DVD


Carlos Hyde vs. Rams
Tech bubbles will burst
Gourmet roast, artisan cheese
Fuels contentment


Wide Receiver

Randall Cobb vs. Jaguars
King Cobb King Cobra
Malt liquor breaches the plane
Soaking painted turf


Marvin Jones vs. Colts
An extinct robot
Sparks a love between a boy
And his brand new toy


Doug Baldwin vs. Dolphins
Tubthumping, Butterfly, Bitch
Liquid Dream, Macarena
Once thought to be good


TY Hilton vs. Lions
Sad Beanie Babies
Cast aside and forgotten
Dumped for iPads


Tight End

Colby Fleener vs. Raiders
What if Frankenstein
Had long hair? Went to Stanford?
Would he be human?


Dwayne Allen vs. Lions
Who the hell is Dwayne?
Oh, you mean that Dwayne? He’s cool
That Dwayne is dat boi


Jason Witten vs. Giants
Cast as an extra
In the movie Last Vegas
Best friends with Freeman


Greg Olsen vs. Broncos
Edibles in Denver
Sativa makes legs tired
My face is melting



Week 2 Fantasy Football Love/Hate Haikus

Peyton Manning vs. Kansas City Chiefs
Papa John’s Pizza
Is now serving wounded ducks
Garlic Gatorade


Tony Romo vs. Philadelphia
Enough misfortune
For an entire lifetime
Finally vanquished

Russel Wilson vs. Green Bay
Recovery water
And some fire and brimstone
Melts evil Packers


Tom Brady vs. Buffalo
Public tax dollars
Won’t fund another escape
Crushed like a cellphone

Matthew Stafford vs. Minnesota
A flat backwards hat
Can’t block out stadium lights
Can make face look huge


Jay Cutler vs. Arizona
A city ash tray
Takes a greyhound bus away
To never return

Running Back:
Lamar Miller vs. Jacksonville

Saddened, denial
Sadder than Dolphin Tale Two?
Become Free Willy

Joseph Randle vs. Philadelphia
Fresh Polo undies
Defense smells stolen cologne
They’re left motionless

Danny Woodhead vs. Cincinnati
Pocket Juggalo
The greasiest hair ever
Will slip defenders


Justin Forsett vs. Oakland
A one year wonder
Meets a stagnant, mild offense
A lukewarm result

Alfred Morris vs. St. Louis
A herd of mad Rams
Turned cannibal, seek fresh meat
Ring the feeding bell


Doug Martin vs. New Orleans
Jameis, cannot throw
Jameis, cannot throw. Jameis,
Cannot throw Jameis

Wide Receiver
Cole Beasley vs. Philadelphia
A helmet mullet
Makes you extra elusive
Blonde locks in the wind


Keenan Allen vs. Cincinnati
Left for dead, but why?
Does a season make a man?
Rise! Crawl from the ash!

Calvin Johnson vs. Minnesota
Rusty parts, neglect
Performed like Transformers Two
Ready to explode


Amari Cooper vs. Baltimore
Bah Gawd! That’s Pac-Man!
Choke slam! Amari, choke slam!
He still looks woozy!


Sammy Watkins vs. New England
What is that garment?
Invisibility cloak
Quidditch not football

Andre Johnson vs.  New York
Old, Older, Oldest
Del Boca Vista  retiree
Early bird special

Tight End:

Jason Witten vs. Philadelphia
Is this sorcery?
To disobey father time
Is to live always

Greg Olsen vs. Houston
Swarming bees attack
Like Nic Cage in Wicker Man
The bees! Not the bees!


Trestman to Bears fans “I want to play a game”

Jigsaw_characterMarc Trestman introduced as head coach of the Chicago Bears


There’s been speculation that Marc Trestman, the head coach of the Chicago Bears, is an apprentice and possible relative of the puppet from the Saw movies known as Jigsaw. Sunday’s blood bath erased all doubt in any skeptic’s mind. This was his masterpiece. This is what a sick demented man spent the better part of the last decade working for. Tinkering and slaving away at his project. Quietly building the confidence in a city that has bought into an immensely talented team. Creating some preseason Super Bowl buzz, and the promise of fixing the one thing that has always been wrong. We should have all seen this coming, he wanted a front row seat to watch the destruction of a city’s spirit. Leaving our spirits tattered and left for dead, watching a team this good fail time and time again. A deranged magnum opus that only a twisted genius could enjoy. Soak it in Trestman, you really got us on this one.

Week 5 Love/Hate Haikus



Ben Roethlisberger
Douchebag in cargos
Great quarterback, bad human
How does one still play?


Ryan Fitzpatrick
Professor Hagrid
Or Guy on a Buffalo
Or Duck Dynasty



Tom Brady
Golden Boy, Chris Gaines
First emo football player
Hashtag this is Ugg


Colin Kaepernick
Cannot hear the plays
Through his head consuming beats
Or see past his hat


Running Backs


Eddie Lacy
A transformation
Majin Buu to Super Buu
Viking absorption


Ben Tate
Eternally hurt
Calamity Coyote
Catches road runner



Frank Gore
Father time awaits
Drawing near to the ageless
Old man strength fading


Steven Ridley
Batman Forever
Worst than Jim Carrey’s Riddler
And Clooney’s bat suit


Wide Receiver


Larry Fitzgerald
Comes back from the dead
Cat from Pet Semetary
Revenge of Winston


Calvin Johnson
Megatron revenge
Shia Labeouf cornerbacks
The AllSpark is found



Demaryious Thomas
More overrated
Than film, Little Miss Sunshine
Maybe Avatar


Marques Colston
A feast or famine
That’s exclusively famine
No feast to be had


Tight End


Travis Kelce
In Andy Reid’s Sights
Like a twinkie or snowball
Don’t stop feeding him



Larry Donnell
Lightning doesn’t strike
In the same place twice, a rare
Unicorn sighting




Saint Louis
Is it possible
The Eagles are not that good?
Expect sacks galore



Fear neck beard power
It will consume everyone
Lasers to Saturn


Week 2 Fantasy Football Love/Hate Haikus

Quarterback Love

Nick Foles
Go Away! Batin’!
Loves money and sex with chicks
Costco time machine



Jake Locker
The Dallas Defense
Is worse than Space Jam’s Tune Squad
Tune Squad sans M.J.



Quarterback Hate

Peyton Manning
Hamburger Pizza
A lingering pregame snack
White pants become brown


Robert Griffin III
Nothing in the tank
Has-been playing county fairs
Just like Sugar Ray



Running Backs Love

Chris Johnson
Gold grills are too trill
Has Lenny Kravitz dreadlocks
C.J. fly away


Marshawn Lynch
Marshawn Skittles cloud
Forecast: torrential downpour
Candy bludgeoning


Running Backs Hate

Steven Jackson
Can barely stand up
Watch him faint behind the line
Back of calf face plants



Doug Martin
The muscle hamster
Only enjoys burrowing
Not running wild, free



Wide Receiver Love

Victor Cruz
Enjoys Pace salsa
Instead of red Gatorade
More electrolytes


Vincent Jackson
It is most quiet
Before the storm, and most dark
Before any light


Wide Receiver Hate

Percy Harvin
Is more volatile
Than an expired McRib
A blowout coming



Dwayne Bowe
Suspended or not
Toil in irrelevance
Bong loads make stone hands



Tight End Love

Rob Gronkowski
The bionic man
Or bicentennial man
The Iron Giant


Tight End Hate

Jordan Cameron
A dumpster fire
Nothing is salvageable
Abandon all Browns


Defense Love

Tampa Bay
The St. Louis Rams
Louisiana Mud Dogs
Sans the Water Boy


Defense Hate

San Francisco
Lunch Lady Romo
Will not be serving hot picks
This is not Dallas


Smirnoff “Raz” Fuels Colts Win

Beer and alcohol commercials are a complete nuisance. They generally exist as a reminder that whatever depraved creatures that created them are 1.)Immensely out of touch with reality 2.) Have never actually drank a drop of their product and 3.) Are aggressive and staunch virgins.

I know that the first thing I would do after scaling Everest would be to promptly reach for a Michelob Ultra, because I still have to maintain my boyish figure after the grueling climb.  I know that when Ray Liotta vacantly looks at me from across the bar with a glass filled to the brim with 1800 gasoline, that I’m pissing myself then immediately throwing my beautifully crafted sazerac on the floor where it belongs. What I witnessed on 1/4/14 however is proof that the Budlight superstition commercials are about as accurate as it gets.

By halftime of the Colt’s game, the sulking was at an all-time high with my friend. They were down 28 to the limping Chiefs, in the first round of the NFL Playoffs. Several temper tantrums and tear drops later, the stench of both defeat and black mold lied heavy in the air.  As he sat there watching his team get destroyed and the $200 bet he laid on the game was looking grim at best. Another friend suggested a tribute, a sacrifice that would ignite both his liver and the will to win for the diminished Colts…Smirnoff Raspberry. Specifically a mystery bottle that had been ditched from New Years Eve days earlier.

The answer had been there all along, nothing inspires a football team 100’s of miles away, and completely unaware of your existence like chugging Raspberry Vodka before key plays.  With every possession the pulls from the bottle became more feverish and more frequent. A descent into complete oblivion. After what I counted to be a full 6 second chug, Andrew Luck miraculously recovered Donald Brown’s fumble and dove into the end zone. The turnovers, the injuries they were all being fueled by this otherwise bottle of undrinkable Smirnoff Raspberry. It seemed insane at first, but the consistency of it all was nothing short of mesmerizing…magical. One man put the entire Colts team on his back and trucked them through the first round…and it wasn’t anyone on the field that day. Those Budlight commercials were officially accurate on 1/4/14.

Why we were all rooting for Kyle Orton

There was something in each and every person watching Sunday Night Football. It varied in strength, appearance and conviction but its existence was undeniable. We all wanted Kyle Orton to win that game. There were certain agendas at play, maybe you were a Cowboys fan and wanted to finally make it to the promise land or you wanted the Shakespearian tragedy that is Tony Romo’s career to mercifully end. For the rest of us, it was because being an NFL quarterback never looked so attainable.

It is likely Orton wore elastic ankle sweats underneath his football pants. An over-embroidered Purdue crew neck sweatshirt under his jersey. His hair still shining from the free product they put in it at Super Cuts days earlier, the dandruff blending in nicely with the white home uniform. His neck beard poorly groomed at best. Belly filled to the brim with Golden Corral. There seemed a steady buzz in his motions, the twelve pack of Coors Original that was drank before the game gave him certain fluidity, unbridled confidence. He made me think “I’ve definitely drank twelve pilsners and thrown a vortex before..playing in the NFL can’t be that much different.”

He looked like a Turkey Bowl legend. The type of guy that would break fingers with lasers to Saturn during the Thanksgiving Day football game, in which there were more blown hammies than touchdowns.

I couldn’t put my finger on it while it was happening, but during the game, closely examining a mediocre looking middle aged man, I kept thinking that maybe…just maybe I still have a shot to make it in the bigs.


Love/Hate Haikus Week 11

Week 11 Fantasy Football Love/Hate Haikus

Quarterbacks Love
Andrew Luck
Deepest voice ever
Slow motion Talkboy F/X
Buzz’s girlfriend woof

Mike Glennon
Miley Cyrus hair
Arm is like a wrecking ball
Runnin’ on molly


Matthew Stafford
Lambda Gun Slinger
Butt bongs beer regularly
A doughy frat boy


Quarterbacks Hate:
Joe Flacco
The Flaccid Flacco
Always in refractory
Non elite QB

Alex Smith
I nap when he plays
Noodle armed lullaby
Can’t hang with Peyton

Carson Palmer
He can barely move
Most average human ever
Despises winning

Running Backs Love
Ray Rice
Will find his talent
Like the Toon Squad in Space Jam
A trap game for Bears

Mike James (if he plays)
The new super freak
Fuck your couch Charlie Murphy
I am Mike James bitch


Alfred Morris
A better butler
Than even Michael Kane is
Alfred Pennyworth


Running Backs Hate
Ben Tate
A bad batch of ribs
Some eaten at Applebees
Sad establishment

Jamaal Charles
When points are dropped
And one team cannot keep up
The running will stop

Steven Jackson
A bigger helmet
Is the first step to fixing
Nose touches facemask


Wide Receivers Love
T.Y. Hilton
Had something to prove
Is now Reggie 2 point 0
The franchise future

Andre Johnson (Andre 3000)
Keenum is Big Boi
Remaking Aquemini
A masterpiece game


Wide Receivers Hate
Steve Smith
Age is catching up
Aqib Talib is as well
The fade from stardom

Cecil Shorts
Arizona D
Is smoking blunts with Blackmon
Cecil can’t survive

Defense Love
See Flaccid Flacco
A Superbowl hangover
Offense is awful

Defense Hate
Golden boy is back
He’s wearing Uggs and CK
Also complaining

Love/Hate Haikus Week 9

Week 9 Fantasy Football Love/Hate Haikus
There is nothing in this world that causes more gut rot and heartache than when your opponent’s quarterback throws a touchdown to a receiver owned by that same despicable lout. There’s always a brief moment of denial, as you sheepishly slink into your Yahoo account, thinking that maybe you remembered things differently. What you see is as eye stinging as that stench awakened when you slip on that inconsiderately left dog log lounging in a grass hammock.  Just when you thought the indignation had reached its climax, you get a text with something like “hollllyyyyyy” or “Wow, officially transcended football” Your head and ring piece simultaneously erupt and you call it a Sunday.

Quarterbacks Love
Jake Locker
Broken hips galore
Delicate bones increase speed
Grandpa has an arm

Terrel Pryor
Ohio State Grad.
Will get a car if he wins
Just like in college

Aaron Rodgers
Always hung-over
Extra on the Walking-Dead
Zombies can play too


Quarterbacks Hate:
Joe Flacco
Loves the Mighty Wing
Pregame case of bubble guts
The runs cause bad play

Tom Brady
Looks good but plays bad
Like movies with Taylor Kitsch
Do not act again


Michael Vick
Hamstrings are sawdust
Or a spaghetti noodle
A soaked french-fry 

Running Backs Love
Danny Woodhead
A tiny white sprite
Is going through puberty
Will become a man

Chris Ivory
Thermal imaging
An elite hunter will rise
All aliens die


Darren Sproles
Pygmy Running back
Galloping across the field
A majestic thing

Running Backs Hate
Deangelo Williams
One cannot score points
Without first getting the ball
Start no one but Cam

Benjarvus Green-Ellis
A sketchy law firm
Worse than that of Saul Goodman
Public Defender

Trent Richardson
If you need one yard
I’ll get you one, you need two?
I’ll still get you one

Wide Receivers Love
T.Y. Hilton
A teammate goes down
Another has stones for hands
It is now his turn


Denarious Moore
An awful defense
Combined with mild talent
Touchdowns will be had

Wide Receivers Hate
Torrey Smith
One does not simply
Score points against Joe Haden
Worse than Sauron’s eye

Danny Amendola
Plays like Greg Oden
Which means doesn’t play at all
A man made of glass

Defense Love
Is Kellen Clemens
An actual real person?
Pick sixes abound


Defense Hate
Matty Ice can throw
Falcons will always frighten
Roddy could be back