In the proud 21st century tradition of unnecessary sequels, Aw NFL Naw has returned for the 2012 NFL season. (/pauses for the reader to make a dismissive jerk off motion) Yes, it is exciting stuff! It’s the same sort of thing as last time: Swears! Typos! Veiled Threats At Big Soda! Plus this year there’s an outside chance that I’ll turn this column into a RuPaul’s Drag Race (All Stars) discussion fiesta starting in October. It would have been a lock if Willam was selected for All Stars, but here we are.

Come join in the merriment after the jump.

Put down your chemistry beakers and Victorian literature this instant! Football’s back! Toss your diploma into the sun! I’m very excited about this development and I’ll put it out there that I’m not alone. As a student of the United States, I’ve come to the conclusion that Americans have two things they cherish above all else: 1) football men doing football things 2) class action lawsuits regarding faulty vaginal mesh. Both are fantastic pursuits if you ask me, but football’s more my bag. Happy to have you back, NFL.

Before Millions Of Dollars Was Pumped Into A Robot Named Cleatus: When I was 9, I lived for the intro to the NFL on Fox. It spoke directly to what dumb nine year olds like me were into: shouting and MORE SHOUTING. It was like getting a preview of the week’s NFL action from a PCP addled maniac that thinks they can control on-screen graphics with their mind and are convinced that if they stop talking they’ll die. “WHEN THE SAINTS GO MARCHING IN TO GEORGIA DAN REEVES WILL LASER BEAM CINNAMON TOAST CRUNCH BEEP BOOP TONY RICH PROJECT CAPITAL GAINS TAX”, etc.  I’d get so riled up that I’d have to change the channel to Hymn Sing just to calm down.  I couldn’t find the NFL version of the intro so I have the NHL on Fox equivalent embedded for your gawking pleasure.

Jaromir Jagr indeed, Mr. Stereotype!

Sometimes A Fantasy (Boom! You Just Got Billy Joel’d!): Do you hate your fantasy football team yet? I know I do. I haven’t even drafted yet and I still hate every single one of my future players. I feel like a goddamn pre-cog. I know what’s going to happen (crippling injuries, underwhelming play, Cam Newton retiring to join the Navy in Week 5) and I know that I can’t do anything about it except sit in the tub for an extended length of time. Good thing I invested my life’s savings in Oogieloves merchandise. That’ll cheer me up over the next couple of months. See you at the bank, suckers!

You Didn’t Need Your Kneecaps Anyway: I’m shit at gambling. Just awful. The only memorable bet that I’ve ever won was whether or not I could lose 30 pounds in a relatively short period of time. I won that bet fueled by spite and promptly gained the weight back out of additional spite (because I’m a spite camel).  I have no reasonable or sensible predictions for the coming season. I have zero foresight. Last year, I fucked up and divorced the Niners midseason because our relationship felt hollow. It was like we were becoming football roommates y’know. The passion was gone. I’m such a dumbass. This summer I decided I’d root for the Buffalo Bills, mainly for reasons rooted to regional convenience. It doesn’t hurt that I’m also dazzled by western New York’s local commercials (thanks Toronto cable!) and I that think I would get along well with the buffalo on the helmet,. This will all backfire when I realize I’m getting emotionally involved with a team that traded a draft pick for Tavaris Jackson. That’s like trading a draft pick for a bag of swine flu. You do not want swine flu, Buffalo. No one does.

Wind, Water, Fire, Earth, I Think We’re Good: Ugh, one bad thing about football being back? Newspaper columnists and TV analysts getting hard over white guys with “heart”. It’s always employed in a way where it’s not always 100% on the nose racist, but it’s pretty racist adjacent. It happens every fucking year and when it does I want the person that says it to eat a trail mix bag full of dicks.

Week 1 Game To Watch With Your Eyeballs And/Or Listen To With Your Earpowers: Cowboys at Giants: It’s happening on Wednesday, which is troubling news for Here Comes Honey Boo Boo fans. I think Alana speaks to the magic of the human spirit. Tony Romo? Not so much. I’ll try to juggle both bits of TV.

Week 1 Game Not To Watch With Your Eyeballs And/Or Listen To With Your Earpowers: Jaguars at Vikings:  This game exists because we’ve failed as a society. We just had to have 32 teams, didn’t we? Our greed will consume us all. Where were we? Oh yeah. A delightfully mustachioed newish owner (seriously, Shahid Khan’s mustache is Greg Nortonesque in quality) can’t save Jacksonville from being hot garbage highlighted by Blaine Gabbert’s “for novelty purposes only” pocket play. The Jags will be going up against a Vikings squad with a terrible secondary, so it might all be moot anyway. Maybe Maurice Jones-Drew and Adrian Peterson will find a common bond in their plights, fall in love, quit football and open up a detective agency. The agency could even have a snappy name, something like: “Former Football Guys That Like To Solve Mysteries In Between Romantic Evenings Out Detective Agency”.

Guests Saying Junk!: My shit gets pretty repetitive after while, (a while being about 30 words in) so I wanted to introduce something new to the column. Each week a special guest will get a short burst of space to say whatever they like about football. Good things, bad things, bood things, whatever. This week, we have comedian Christi Olson using the space. (If you’re in Toronto, come see her at Fresh Meat 2012 on Sept. 10 and at the Toronto Comedy Brawl finals on Sept. 15.) Take it away, Christi!

I don’t know a lot about football. I know that it’s the non-wrestling thing that makes my boyfriend suck for 3 hours at a time, and I know that most of the players end up with brain holes, but that’s about it. I think I would find football more interesting if the players had to dodge real safety threats as opposed to just bigger dudes tackling them. Maybe if there was a bear section on the field, and a landmine section (but not near the bear section because bears being blown up by landmines would make me really sad) I would be more interested. I did like when the special episode of 3rd Rock from the Sun followed the Superbowl that one time, so maybe they could just do that again. Until then, I’m just going to keep reading Dan’s NFL column and pretending that I understand his football jokes.


This column will revert back to its usual Wednesday spot starting next week. Have a good football this weekend!

Feel free to harass Dan on Twitter or in the comments. He doesn’t seem all that tough. You could probably bench press more than him and be all like “how you like that, bro” in his face after he drops the bar on his chest.