Showing posts with label Brett Favre. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Brett Favre. Show all posts

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Every time a bell gets rung. . . .

You knew it would end like this, didn't you?

I think it was Clarence, the angel in training, who said that every time a bell gets rung, a washed-up quarterback texts pictures of his junk. Or his career flies out the window.

Or something. Cue Zuzu.

Anyway, Christmas bells were jing-jing-jingling Monday night during the Minneapolis mugging that probably means curtains for the latest incarnation of
Everybody's All-American. And the end came at the hands of a rookie, no less.

The Associated Press gets a head start on the latest remake of the Frank Deford novel that became a Taylor Hackford film, this version starring Brett Favre as Dennis Quaid as Gavin Grey:

Bundled up on the sideline in a heavy, gray coat, Brett Favre could only watch as Devin Hester and the Chicago Bears sped through the snow to the NFC North title.

Favre's surprise start ended with a concussion, perhaps putting him out for good, and the Bears spoiled Minnesota's first outdoor home game in 29 years.

Hester set the NFL record with his 14th kick return touchdown, running back a punt 64 yards for a score shortly after halftime to help the Bears fly past the Vikings 40-14 on a frosty, hard-hitting Monday night.

"You play long enough, you're going to get your bell rung," Favre said.

In the
second quarter, the Vikings lost Favre - possibly for good.

On third-and-4 from the Bears 48, Wootton got in the backfield and grabbed Favre by his non-throwing shoulder, slamming him to the cold turf players had worried about in the days before the game. The career leader in almost every major statistical category for quarterbacks, Favre lay motionless for a few seconds before climbing to his feet and walking off with his head hung down.
BRETT'S GONNA spend some time at home now and "cut a little grass"? That's what Gavin Grey did a lot of -- beer in hand -- once his playing days were done.

GRASS CUTTIN' never turns out positively.

Thursday, August 05, 2010

Hey! We have our standards!

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Let me see if I have this straight. Or gay. I forget.

The country is in an uproar over gay marriage, because that's all weird and stuff, because the gays found out that everybody else was married to somebody else on
Facebook and all they had was a crappy little ceremony in the San Francisco courthouse, when everybody else gets a destination wedding in Italy -- and then one at Disney World, complete with fireworks but no divorce, which is so easy today that half of all married couples get one (So what's the deal with forgetting that common little detail?) -- and that's, like, bigamy, only the lawyers say they're just being drama queens, because nobody sexted them pictures of their junk like Brett Favre, who supposedly texted pictures of himself playing with his while wearing Crocs -- Crocs? -- because Jenn Sterger is hot and kinda looks like his wife, only 16 years younger and not a grandma.

We know Sterger because she's got a show on
Versus because she used to go to Florida State football games damn near nekkid, which got her enhanced physique into Maxim and Playboy -- before she took her implants out, because she wanted to, like, totally go countercultural here -- which led to a Sports Illustrated column and a gig as a New York Jets sideline reporter, which is what apparently intrigued Mr. Retirement's penis, and now Whoopi Goldberg is all pissed off and cussing a blue streak at gate crashers, if not penis posers, which makes Michaele Salahi cry, because somebody's gonna be irate when pictures of your wanger end up on Facebook for your other wife to find, and why should gays have to miss out on that kind of wedded bliss?

AND WHY DID Michelle Obama ditch the prez on his birthday anyway to spend hundreds of grand on a Spanish vacay with the kid?

I ask this because we are a sensible, sober and moral people who think marriage is sacred and not to be trifled with by just any Tom, Dick or Harry.
Or any consenting combination of the above.

IT IS the very sanctity of marriage and the spiritual and cultural gravity of sexuality (and how we use it) that is what's behind the monster effin' rush you get by boinking pert little interns less than half your age. Or sleeping your way up the corporate food chain.

Or so they say over at