Once upon a time, there was a football team called the “Eagles”. They sucked.
Some people wonder why I loathe the Eagles and what they stand for. Other people ask why I make fun of McChunky at every chance I get.
Well the truth is, being a Cowboy’s fan has very little to do with my distaste of the Pennsylvanian girlie squad. My “Eagle Revulsion” started the first time I met one of their fans who, unprovoked, attacked my dear ‘Boys and insisted that Jerry Jones has befriended Satan for football success. He, of course, peppered his arguments with the usual b.s. of how my ‘Boys are given special treatment by the media, the refs, the league, etc… because Mr. Jones is a rich fellow with considerable sex appeal (hey, I am not a chick here to judge).
Now I am not here to argue any of that because it all fits under the same rug that America’s Team wipes its arse with, but I am here to make some “observations”.
Let’s start with the FACT that whoever told you that stereotyping is wrong WAS wrong. Philly fans are a collection of underdog lovers, mediocrity admirers, and dirty-city loyalists. They are the roaches of the league fans who bathe in sewers yet claim to be clean. They lived with the dinosaurs yet their success tree is a weed tall. They all have the small-dog syndrome and mount all of their failure on the damned luck. They are simply jinxed.
Jinxed my doggy-style arse.
Speaking of jinxed, let’s head north. More like NE. Bahstan and its apologists make me sick. I grew up hating the Yankees but I never understood New York’s abhorrence of its retarded cousin. I mean, who would hate to see their neighbor with a touch of success?
Well if I lived in New York, I would abominate “thy neighbor” too. All the whining about the Babe and the jinx. All the moaning about how the weather is nice, but it’s not too nice. The ocean is blue, but it’s not big enough would drive me insane. GET OVER IT! Your team sucked for decades and decades for a reason. Maybe if you stopped whining, the players won’t CHOKE under the immense pressure you put them under. I bet that some athletes in that town are more afraid of success than failure. With failure, you can drive in town with a bat and maybe a cell phone. But with success, who knows how such fans will behave? You think that flower bouquet Brady was carrying to his g/f house had only flowers? I am not gonna say he had a shotgun in there (Kill-Bill style), but I won’t bet the house against that either.
Speaking of whiners, bats, and girlie quarterbacks, my wife needs to stop complaining about my work travelling habits and everything else. I just don’t understand how I am supposed to say ‘No’ to my boss about travelling when I am the only qualified person to talk to our vendor who is located out of town! And yeah, the weather and the flooding in town is not my fault, woman! Maybe if we move out of this crap hole of a state, we won’t have water in the basement. It’s that simple.
No, it’s not that gloomy in this dog’s life. Tomorrow morning, I will wake up and the sun will be shining and the water will be gone. McNabb lost ½ of his arse fat and Brady came out of the closet. My wife will agree to move to anywhere else (except Nebraska) and I won the lottery.
Tomorrow I will wake up and ‘Ics’ stopped peeing on me and ‘Bens’ saw a therapist for his sickness. ‘Pimpy’ quit being a “puzzy” (you are what you eat, pal) and ‘Oso’ found the right zoo to park his bear behind. Tomorrow morning, T.O. will call ‘Ferrell’ and ask her to marry him no-prenup style and ‘LadyPeasALot’ will get laid for once. ‘KP’ will move to Dallas to find her football nirvana and ‘Drunk Eli’ will sober up. The Mods of this site will mastur-bate somewhere else and ‘Homey D.’ will be reinstated and apologized to.
Thank you, Thank you.
You guys are great… FOR ME TO POOP ON!
-Se7en steaming from the pooper