It’s Week 3. Join me after the jump for the usual hodgepodge of swears, poorly formed analogies and nude pictures of all your favourite celebrities. (Including former UK Prime Minister John Major!) Plus football junk!
I’m Going To Talk About Fantasy Football For A Bit, Read This Instead: Moaning on about your fantasy team isn’t all that different than bragging about your poos or telling your friends about how many retweets you got. It’s important to you, but no one gives a fuck. That’s the real tragedy of having a terrible fantasy team. You can’t complain about how Chris Johnson’s dogshit numbers are torpedoing your season (stealth complaint!), other people have issues of their own to attend to. They just want you to keep your sob story to yourself. All you can do is powersulk, shovel sadness chips into your mouth and press a hot curling iron into the back of your neck so you can, like, see if you can still feel something, y’know?
Additional Fantasy Football Note: Do any other white guys feel super uncomfortable when they say they own a player? I can’t be the only person that uses clunky nomenclature to say they have a dude on their fantasy team, right?
They’re Inept, But In An Affordable Way: Do you have replacement referee fever? I wish I did. I had all these fantasies about what the NFL labour dispute might lead to. What kind of replacement refs would we get? Cyborgs? Dogs with black and white striped fur? Archangels? Mummies? Rovers from The Prisoner? Nope, just dopey humans. THAT’S SOME BULLSHIT. Also, you have to admire the balls on the NFL. I mean why should they try to accommodate the officials? The league is barely getting by. From what I understand the NFL is roughly as popular in America as intramural tetherball or senior centre 4 Square and is in constant danger of folding. This is why the NFL has that annual “let’s save the league” telethon you see on Labour Day weekend.
His Pouch Is Filled With Terror: Not only are the Cash Money ads getting more terrifying, Cash A Roo (their kangaroo mascot that grants loans and eats souls) now appears in a spot where he is an unlicensed dentist. Move over Money Mart nightmare pig, there’s a marsupial with a love for dental equipment related torture ready to take your spot.
Also, could Sleeman’s marketing department ease up with their internet tough guy ads.
Potential Sleeman Ad: “WE’RE SO DANGEROUS! YOU LIKE DON’T EVEN KNOW MAN! PEOPLE WANT US TO HIDE THE TIME WE TRIED TO BREAK KARLA HOMOLKA OUT OF JAIL PAST BUT IT’S LIKE NO WAY BRO! WE BENCH PRESS SO MUCH DANGER!” (/hikes up sleeves on their Looney Tunes leather jacket, flicks a lighter)
We get it: you used to be affiliated with criminals. You’re the toughest beer around. Your dad could beat up Molson’s dad or whatever. Calm the fuck down.
Live From The Masonic Temple: John and James have a piece on Rah Rah in the latest edition of the Prairie Dog (at reputable alternative media supporting outlets on Thursday!), so I figured I’d pass along that I went to see their pop rock stylings when they performed on MTV Live. It was fun on a bun. Rah Rah was great, I got to playfully shout “Polymaths are better!” before their set and I had the epiphany that I’m a dusty-boned old man. They literally gave away pizza and pop after the taping. That made me feel so old that I had to double check that I wasn’t a Victorian era ghost.
Additional MTV Note: I Want My MTV: The Uncensored Story of the Music Video Revolution is fucking amazing. Especially if you enjoy anecdotes fueled by drugs and New Wave.
Week 3 Game To Watch With Your Eyeballs And/Or Listen To With Your Earpowers: Eagles at Cardinals Not only will this game be moderately interesting, but the ridiculous “what if Kevin Kolb stayed in Philadelphia rumble grumble y’all see Sliding Doors bumble mumble” commentary should be good for many a yuk. Kolb was never going to turn the Rocky Balboa statue into a sentient being and put Boy Meets World back on TV. He’s just a dude whose skill set is “competing with John Skelton for a job”, you goofy fucks. Both Philly and Arizona are undefeated, by the way.
Week 3 Game Not To Watch With Your Eyeballs And/Or Listen To With Your Earpowers: Chiefs at Saints It’s going to be lousy, but high scoring lousy. That’s sort of a silver lining, right? Plus you’re just going to watch RedZone during the 1PM games anyway. Or you’re using that time to fight to get custody of your kids back. Both are fine options. Unless your kids are kinda shitty or have evil dolls that lead to mass death and creepy record playing.
Guests Saying Junk: It’s back! And we got someone fancypants this week. Writer/Comedian/Shouting Out Things At Wrestling Events Expert Dan Yates takes the reigns for this week’s Guests Saying Junk. Bask in his words.
My entire knowledge of NFL football is based on two things: Terry Bradshaw appearances on Jay Leno and reruns of Coach, which feverish research tells me was a show about college football. Huh. Apparently I’ve taken a few too many hits to the head, just like Terry Bradshaw. Thanks, Jay. I have an affinity though for the Canadian game and have since, I don’t know, 2007, when there was a seat sale on the bandwagon. Here’s what I’ve learned: Mobs are fun, I enjoy wonkiness (rouge!) and I like the stories of journeymen athletes. The CFL is full of Ma-Ti types (That’s a Captain Planet reference, not something racial. He had heart!). I watch the NFL and I ask, “Why would I watch talented people succeed frequently with ease?” I like scrappy, undersized players. I like the air-it-out-and-shrug game plans. I like Benny Hill highlight reels. But what do I know? I’m about to spend my adult guy money on a Roddy Piper T-shirt. In my defence, wrestlers don’t strike or take off-seasons and their gunplay is comparatively discrete. The fake stuff is looking better and better, sports fans.
Thanks Yates. Let’s head out on a fan-created Enigma video, shall we?
Feel free to gab at Dan on Twitter or in the comments. He spends his free time writing Drop Dead Diva fan fiction.