I'm having an affair...not just any affair but a torrid, blazing affair with...ESPN. A few years ago Mr. Me got me satellite radio for our anniversary...and OMG that's probably one of the contributing factors to why I still allow him the privilege of being Mr. Me. Now I have another side piece to my side piece: NFL Channel. Yesssssssssssssssssssss. And now it is football season...my most favoritest season of them all. Though my team sucks big rocks (that's a post for a whole 'nother blog), I still love football season.
But you know what I don't love? Athletes with the freaking mike anywhere near them. Seriously, we need some kind of law. Over the years, atheletes have accounted for at least fifty percent of the sh*t that is azz whipping worthy. Hey, what's on your list, Fearless Leader? I'm glad you asked.
"They persecuted Jesus too." Don't even fix your lips to say this especially when you're saying it in response to some female/legal system drama or because you didn't read the playbook, spent all pre-season on the world eating tour, came into camp a gabillion pounds overweight and still haven't familiarized yourself with the offense.
"A man's got to eat." and/or "I've got a family to feed." seriously...when you make millions (note that -s ending) for dunking balls/shooting the long ball/running fade routes, I'm going to need you to sip a big cup of KMA.
and then there's the honorable mention:
the 'how dare they franchise me...and disrespect me by only paying me a million dollars PER game...for real, dude? for a million dollars PER game...i'm going to need you to produce more than a sack a game.
whenever you say something just nucking futz like that...a gang of ninjas/rogues should immediately come out and beat the ever-loving shyt out of you...and then take your money.