Saturday, January 31, 2009

Better Know an Arizona Cardinal: Neil Rackers


Neil Rackers doesn't need to be the center of attention, unlike SOME kickers in this game. Neil likes to spend quiet nights at home, or the occasional night out for a few drinks with his wife Rachel. You might think that this makes Rackers a boring, lame guy, but if you looked at a picture of his wife, you'd probably change her tune.


That's my kind of woman.

Coming later tonight, I'll offer a Super Bowl pick, and maybe DJMJ will too. These are picks guaranteed to lose you money and make you hate your life even more than you do.

Friday, January 30, 2009

Better Know an Arizona Cardinal: Tim Hightower


Tim Hightower likes chocolate. Loves the damn stuff. When Hightower was a kid, he did a short stint in Juvy for stealing 650 Nestle Crunch bars from various grocery stores in his native Truth or Consequences, New Mexico. Hightower also loves marijuana and especially loves smoking up whilst listening to Jimi Hendrix. Hightower's friends always laugh at this amusing coincidence, but Hightower still doesn't understand what's so funny.

Tim Hightower is a deputized officer in his adopted home country of Ecuador.

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Better Know an Arizona Cardinal: Kurt Warner


Through the grace of God, Kurt Warner found his way to the desert, and has led the Cardinals to the verge of the ultimate glory. Except, of course, HIS ultimate glory, which clearly overshadows any worldly glory, especially worldly glory involving making a nice pass for the Barnstormers, or perfectly packing someone's canned goods and fragile yogurt cups. That kind of glory blows donkey dick. Anyway, Kurt Warner, imbued with the power of the Lord (except during his time in New York, whereupon the Lord said, "Nah, ain't helping you out broseph") is well on his way to the Hall of Fame, an inconceivable destination for a man with such an "interesting" career path. Oh, and Kurt would like to personally thank the Lord for making Brenda realize her sneaky hotness and ditch the "I look like a 45-year old glamour lesbian" look. Really, thanks God.

Kurt Warner's favorite band, ironically, is Cannibal Corpse. Says he loves the melodies.

Monday, January 26, 2009

Parallel Pedigree

Buenos dias, blog amigos. Every time the Browns have wiped their slate clean, I've been excited. I've been supportive. I've been behind the moves 100 percent. Blindly so.

Carmen Policy and Dwight Clark? It worked for San Francisco!

Butch Davis as coach and GM? What could go wrong!

Romeo Crennel and Phil Savage? I HEART THE BELICHICK TREE!

Of course, everyone who's tried to turn the post-1999 Browns into a consistent winner has been engulfed in a space vacuum of suck. That being the case, I'm both encouraged and skeptical about the hiring of new coach Eric Mangini and new general manager George Kokinis. I'm excited and hesitant. I'm passionate and pessimistic.

Don't worry, though. This post won't incorporate any references to Captain Kirk's human emotions and Spock's strict logic. Right show, wrong element!

Since the Browns are like an evil parallel universe to respectable football, I'm going to pit the Eric Mangini and George Kokinis from our universe against the Eric Mangini and George Kokinis from the evil Mirror Universe. Enjoy!


I'm George Kokinis, the new general manager of the Cleveland Browns. My background isn't entirely different from Phil Savage, the man who held this position before me. Like Savage, my career began as a scout with the Browns in 1991, and I followed the franchise to Baltimore in 1995. As the Ravens' director of pro personnel for the past five years, I developed a system known as "the box", which tests the quickness and athleticism of prospects. I'm a tireless worker who has a successful track record identifying NFL talent with an organization that consistently challenged for the AFC North crown.

This is my first shot at being a general manager, but the truth is I've done an above-average job with every other position I've held, so why should my time in Cleveland be any different? A lot of you might think that I'm only here because Eric Mangini was hired as head coach. There's an element of truth to that. Eric was the one who recommended me for this position after his interviews impressed owner Randy Lerner earlier this month. Eric and I have remained good friends since we roomed together while working for the Browns in the early 1990s. But isn't compatibility the most important thing when hiring a coach and general manager? Hasn't it worked out great for Pittsburgh, one of the franchises the Browns are chasing at this very moment? My experience evaluating players speaks for itself, and even though Eric and I are close, my contract specifies that I have final authority on all football operations.

With such power, I hope to restore success to one of pro football's proudest cities.


I'm George Kokinis, and I'm an NAIVE WINDBAG. Ha ha ha! What an idiot. Newsflash, dummy: Phil Savage's credentials didn't work out with the Browns, and YOURS WON'T EITHER. So you can tell which players are better at a combine? Congratu-fucking-lations! What are you gonna tell the people of Cleveland when those players still give up 40 points a game and go 4-12 the next four seasons and run your losing streak against the Squeelers to 19? What are you gonna do about the contract situations of Kellen Winslow, Josh Cribbs and Phil Dawson? Yeah, that's right, I-Snort-Kokinis. The Browns are so bad that the KICKERS DEMAND NEW CONTRACTS because they score 90 PERCENT OF THE POINTS! Never had to deal with a Hot-Stover like that in Buttlimore, did ya?? Good luck with Brady Quinn, too. And by that I mean good luck spending the next 10 years trying to win with a quarterback who can't throw more than 15 YARDS with any kind of accuracy. Of course, you might choose to roll with Derek Anderson instead. Ha ha! On second thought, you can't be that stupid. I mean, the Browns turn everyone into Karl Childers eventually, but that doesn't set in until your second week on the job, right? I guess we'll see! Have fun, fuckface!


I'm Eric Mangini, aka the Mangenius. I'm the new head coach of the Cleveland Browns, and I'm the first guy with previous NFL head coaching experience the Browns have hired since 1971. Look, I know that Clevelanders are starved for a consistent winner in the NFL. Well, I finished with a winning record in two of my three seasons with the Jets, and I went 9-7 this past season despite being saddled with a quarterback I never wanted in the first place.

We've seen plenty of examples of head coaches who have had more success in their second job. Tony Dungy made the Buccaneers relevant, then won a Super Bowl with the Colts. Jon Gruden built the Raiders back up, then beat them with the Bucs in the Super Bowl. Tom Coughlin turned his experience with the Jaguars into a world championship with the Giants. Why, Bill Belichick has won three Super Bowls with the Patriots after taking his lumps as coach of this very franchise in Cleveland.

I've got my new coordinators picked out before February, and my personal choice of general manager was just hired as well. I'm also friends with Indians general manager Mark Shapiro, and as the Boston franchises have shown us, communication between the executives from each sport breeds success. I know what you're thinking. "Didn't we hire a Belichick assistant as head coach and a Baltimore bureaucrat as general manager four years ago?" Yes, you did. But I don't take any bullshit, and I know what I'm doing with regards to an NFL franchise. Under my watch, this franchise can reclaim its rightful place among the NFL's elite.


What's up dickwads! I'm Eric Mangini, aka the ManGINA, and I'm the new head choch of the Cleveland Browns. What a simp! Remember the last time the Browns won a playoff game? I do. Kids who were born that year are now SOPHOMORES IN HIGH SCHOOL. Anyone who thinks he's going to do anything other than extend this franchise's run of futility is out of their mind. So Erica had a winning record two of his three seasons as a head coach. WHOOPEEEEE. Bill Cowher and Brian Billick used to shit winning records with Tommy Maddox and Kyle Boller playing quarterback.

Nice factoid about head coaches having more success in their second stints. Nice job ignoring the fact that they all went to franchises with solid foundations, too. Try not to break your ankles when standing on Romeo's rolls, and don't hit the ground too hard when Botch Davis yanks the rug out from under you. Brian Daboll, Rob Ryan and Brad Seely can't coordinate a safety net fast enough to catch your donut-munching ass, Mangina!

Here's a tip. In a town as football-crazy as Cleveland, it's not a good idea to have just TWO PUBLIC APPERANCES in your first month with the team. These pigskin heathens need access. They need to know that their hard-earned cash isn't being poured into another hopeless regime. They need to be familiar with the guy who's been put in charge of their lifetime crush before he crushes their souls by losing more games.

I hope we have some sort of Spygate revisiting, too. In fact, I'll make sure we do. The first time that you hear boos from Browns fans, I'll release a sex tape with your wife. She's way too hot for you, anyway. That'll stir up some controversy!

Lastly, and most certainly not leastly, the nickname "Mangenius" comes from an episode of The Sopranos. Can we deduce, then, that you're also ridiculously overrated and that your whole family would get mowed down if Sonny Corleone decided to take you on by himself?

I think we can. As for your time with the Browns, Mangini, I've got one word:

Tollbooth.

Better Know an Arizona Cardinal: Matt Leinart


Matt Leinart loves college freshmen, Nickelback and date rape, in that order. He wears number 7 as an homage to his childhood hero, Spider-Man. Matt Leinart is a hermaphrodite. He also claims to be a vegan, though this is actually just another front he uses to meet impressionable girls trying to "make a difference." All Matt knows is that he can feel them making a difference--in his pants.

Sunday, January 25, 2009

Top Ten Things That Really Suck

I was going to write a big post to lead off Super Bowl week that just ripped the Cardinals and their bandwagon-jumping fans, but then I realized that a Cardinals fan might actually read it and send it along to all the other Cardinals fans. Translation: I'd be hearing from all 59 people in Cards Nation within the hour. Instead, I'll go completely off-topic and list ten things that really suck, because people don't pay enough attention to the shitty things in this world.

10. People That Hate Steelers Fans:

Great, I get it, you don't like me, or anyone else that roots for the team. Why? Because we're all bandwagon-jumpers, have awful looking mullets, have a bad habit of having our most unattractive representatives show up in pictures that end up on the Internet, and blah blah blah. Do yourself a favor and take an acid bath, shithead. Hate on people that decided to like the Steelers because they happen to be good all you want, but realize that those people comprise about 0.6% of the fanbase. Know why the Patriots and their fans suck? Because they legitimately didn't give a shit about the team until 2001. It's a fact, and don't challenge me on that, because I made it up, so I know it's true. Honestly though, don't diss Steelers fans that grew up here and have loved the team all their lives, don't diss people that moved out of the city for better jobs and still love the team, and most of all, ease up a little on the city itself, because it's not nearly as barren a wasteland as some make it out to be. It's bad, but it ain't Philadelphia bad. Most Steelers fans are only too happy to bring up the Tommy Maddox Era, the Kordell Stewart years, and the one season (it was 2000) where we actually thought Kent Graham was the answer. Think about that. Kent Graham. Kent Graham might be able to beat a sloth in a race. Emphasis on might. Unless it was a Mexican sloth. He could totally take one of those lazy shits. We like our team because it's very well-run, classy, refuses to cater to prima donna players, and gives the city and its people their collective money's worth, year in and year out. That is to say, the Steelers are the polar opposite of the Pirates. Live in Cleveland? New Orleans? Detroit? You have truly suffered, because you, as a fanbase, have not even come close to getting to call your favorite team World Champs. You can hate us, but otherwise, get fucked.

9. Sleeping Through Your Alarm

You might think this is an odd thing to hate. I disagree. If you know me, it's probably shocking, but I've been attempting to make a concerted attempt at self-improvement. The one change I've been trying to make that I think would get the ball rolling on everything else is waking up on time and going to the gym early in the morning. I can go any time of day, because I work from home, but going in the morning would make me infinitely more productive. In theory, this wouldn't be so hard to pull off--set phone alarm for 6:30 (not even that early of a wakeup), set back-up alarm for 6:40, and go to sleep. Thing is, I TURN THE FUCKING ALARM OFF IN MY SLEEP WITH REGULARITY. Aside from that, sometimes I wake up and go, "Ahh, it's not worth it." Yes, it IS worth it, you fat fuck. Wake up wake up wake up wake up god DAMNIT. Naturally, tomorrow morning I'll do the same motherfucking thing I always do, bank on it. Can't wait to wake up at 9:50 and feel like an even bigger waste of space than usual.

8. The Economy

I don't profess to know jack shit about how to fix the economy. All I know is that I'm bouncing from freelance job to freelance job while I wait for my slow-developing meal ticket to grow and set me on a worthwhile course. However, the economy still blows, if only because I have to get nervous about my bills and all that other shit. Other people are the ones that are really suffering, and I do feel bad for them. Except for the higher-ups of the Big 3. Make better fucking cars and maybe I'll start to buy them. Sorry, it's just the truth. Until then, it's Honda for me. Still, the economy sucks because it's preventing my little meal-ticket side job from yielding a full-time, super fun, pretty damn decently paying position. If this were three or four years ago, I'd be in good shape. I'm not. The economy can eat a bag of fucking dicks. Make that flaming fucking dicks, I really hate the economy.

7. Sales Managers
One upside to the shitty economy is finding out that people you dislike or even hate have lost their jobs, which were higher paying than yours. This is mostly funny because those people have a livelihood and a standard of living they need to maintain, and now they can't do it. This was the case with my last (and first real) boss, who just recently lost his job. Connect the dots and you'll realize that I used to work for Clear Channel, and you'll feel bad for me. If only my boss's boss would have lost his job too, then number 8 would not be on this list, because it would be a bringer of happiness for me. Sales managers really blow because they are ignorant to the outside world. If I had a dollar every time one of my sales managers told me that a recession was the best time to sell, I'd have been able to quit sales. The worst part is that these people seem to believe their own horseshit. Guess what numbnuts, a recession is in fact the WORST time to sell. Why? Because no one's making money and the advertising budgets are the first thing to go. Know the best time to sell? When the economy is strong, because people are spending. Even this fact is exploited by the appropriately atrocious manager. Doing well with sales, even though you weren't sure you could? Guess what, cocksniffer--you're not doing well enough. See Bob over there? He sold THREE TIMES AS MUCH AS YOU. I HAVE HALF A MIND TO LET BOB BEND YOUR GIRLFRIEND OVER HIS DESK WHILE YOU WATCH, EYELIDS STAPLED OPEN. That's a sales manager. Oh, one important rule of thumb to remember is that all male sales managers (at least, the dickish ones) are no taller than 5'7". Oh, and they'll always have an almost unfathomable amount of misplaced self-confidence. It's legitimately maddening, but it does make it that much sweeter when they're unceremoniously dumped by the company, which shows that, just like you, they're an expendable pawn. I honestly don't know of one person in sales that actually likes their manager.

6. Watching non-HD Programming on an HD TV
I bought an HD TV about 2 months ago. This was a pretty big deal, as I'd been wanting one for awhile, and finally could afford to pull the trigger. For the most part, this has been a wonderful development in my life. Except of course, when channels that are HD-capable show programming in standard definition. I'm looking at you, ESPN family of networks. Your HD quality is oh so sweet, it's like watching all the pretty colors have sexy time together. WHY THEN, DO YOU TAUNT ME BY PUTTING ON A MARQUEE COLLEGE BASKETBALL GAME IN 480p? Jesus Christ, I understand that it's the cameras that you shoot the sports on that determine the way the pretty picture comes into my TV, and I'm sure that those cameras are expensive, but you're ESPN, you just bought like all the bowl games you didn't have, and you now own most of everything. Like, you've probably even got stake in TGI Fridays. Therefore, please show all programming in HD, except for Around the Horn. You can discontinue that abortion of a program at your earliest convenience. If I can watch my sports in high def, I'd feel a lot less like one of the poor people. And that, friends, is a goal worth striving for. Come on ESPN, I usually don't have any problem with you. Step up to the dish on this one. Oh, and you can actually refrain from showing women's basketball in HD. In fact, you might be inclined to make sure your test patterns work whenever you get the urge to put one of those games on TV.

5. Salt on the Roads
I live in Pittsburgh, so obviously I have to deal with snow. This is just a fact of life that I'll have to deal with until I have enough money to control the weather. Since that's at least another two or three years off, I have to deal with the snow, and more importantly, the salt on the roads. It's always nice to know that any time I go on the highway my windshield is bound to be covered by a thick layer of sodium chloride in approximately 4 seconds. This makes me approximately equal to Stevie Wonder in terms of driving ability. I go through at least 10 bottles of windshield wiper fluid per season, mainly because my wipers suck too. The best part is, all this salt is on the road, and half of the time, it never snows. And since it's cold here, the rain that would wash the salt away ends up being snow. And, this snow only comes when there somehow isn't salt on the road, so that driving is a huge bitch anyway. Oh, I forgot that salt eats away at my paint job, and coats my shoes, jeans, and the mats of my car for approximately one third of the year. Yeah, salt is a huge bitch for me.

4. Cold Weather

I like to think I'm hale and hearty, but really, what fun is life when you walk outside and get hit in the face with a blast of arctic air? Not a whole fucking lot, I'll tell you. Cold weather is the only reason that number 5 on this list exists, as well as number 9. I'd be a hell of a lot more willing to wake up early if it was 70 degrees out and I had a tee time for 6:50. As it is, on the rare day that I can wake up when I want to, I see that it's still dark out and I can feel the cold through my windows. Makes that bed seem pretty fucking appealing. People in Chicago, Minneapolis and Boston--I don't know how you do it. Bostonites, I hope it only gets colder and colder where you live. Global warming can't get here soon enough. To help speed things along, I'll be burning all my trash from now on, and trying to leave a brontosaurus-sized carbon footprint. Hopefully, if everyone follows my lead, we'll all live in the tropics soon, and I won't have to worry about my car starting in the morning.

3. That Pussycat Dolls Song
I'm not going to bother to look up what the actual name of it is, because I don't care, and it's a horrible song. I have an iPod, and an attachment to play it in my car, and if you put a gun to my head and told me to name my favorite kind of music, I'd say rock. Yet for some reason, I listen to the two Top 40 stations in town a disproportionate amount of time. I wish I knew why this was. Whenever I hear "We're drivin' slow in the snow down Fifth Avenue" one part of my brain tells me to find a chainsaw and hack off my ears with it, and one part can't turn the dial. The lyrics couldn't be any dumber, and when the one chick in the group that can "sing" starts to wail, I'm pretty sure she's supposed to be saying something about the world slowing down and her heart beating faster, but all I hear is the sound of a baby screaming while twenty-seven cats scratch chalkboards simultaneously. Yes, she's nice to look at, as are the rest of the Pussycat Dolls, but so are most high-end prostitutes, and they don't try to sing. Oh wait, bad example. Anyway, the biggest problem I have with this song is that, as terrible as it is, I CAN'T TURN IT OFF. It's like an addiction to a drug that doesn't even give you a high, but still makes you feel dirty and shitty after taking it. Kind of like White Tavern vodka. I guess that means that I kind of suck too, but since I buried this admission this far down in the post, none of you will see this rare self-effacing moment, and my reputation will be intact.

2. Hot N' Cold (aka, That Fucking Katy Perry Song)


I kissed a girl and I liked it. Had sex with one too. That was also nice. However, if I'd made a song about it, no one would have said a fucking word. Also, if I'd made a song that went, "I kissed a boy and I liked it," people would call me a fucking queer and make Lance Bass jokes. Hell, I'd be making fun of myself. So, to review, Katy Perry is famous because of a gimmick song that glorified something that most red-blooded men (and a hell of a lot of women) find titillating. Ironically, my best friend, who is bisexual, says that this song is huge in gay clubs, and try as she might, she can't make everyone see that Ms. Perry is kind of taunting gay people. Whatever. At least that song was a mildly original, risque concept to try out. Hot N' Cold sounds like it was composed by a toddler with ADHD. The beat is painfully simple, painfully stupid, and makes me want to put several bullets in my head at once. Again, however, I can't turn the damn song off. I'm hopeful that after hearing it a few more times, which would bring the total count to about 847, I'll be sick of it and will turn it off every single time I start to hear the childlike beginning. Amazing that something with only three or four fucking notes can be so stupidly addicting. I can hear the brain cells evacuating when I make the conscious decision to keep listening.

1. Saul Smith
I'll readily admit that I wrote this post for one reason, and it was one that I'm sure everyone can relate to. I was riding in my car and just starting thinking about how awful of a college basketball player Saul Smith was. Not everyone does that with their spare time? Then everyone can eat dick and die. I thought about it all the way through writing this post, and then when I googled him, I realized he was even worse than I thought. This is impressive, because I remember watching Saul Smith and thinking, "This is what it looks like when a Division III caliber player starts for a national-title quality team." The guy was just abysmal. And look at his picture! Jesus god in heaven what an ass-ugly haircut. I ask you to take a look at Saul Smith's statistics for his college career. Thirty-six percent from the floor for his career, 32.1 percent from 3-point range. Career 67 percent foul shooter, with an average assist to turnover ratio. What kept this fucker in the starting lineup? Oh, I remember, it was the fact that he was the COACH'S SON. How many times do you think the rest of the players on that team conspired to go all Tonya Harding on that fucker's knee? A hundred? A thousand? Sure, you'll say, "Come on, there are plenty of players that were worse than Saul Smith," and I'll say NO FUCKING WAY they played for a school as good as Kentucky and got as many minutes as Smith. I would dare say he singlehandedly cost UK at least one national championship during his time there. Just abysmal, absolutely abysmal. And now, he's an assistant coach for his father at Minnesota. It's a smart move to make sure you hire someone that can teach guards how to shoot the ugliest jumper in NCAA history and consistently bring nothing of value to the table for the team. Good thing nepotism wasn't involved in this hire. Saul Smith, worst major-college basketball player of all time and the thing that REALLY sucks the most in the world.

Thursday, January 22, 2009

Better Know an Arizona Cardinal

With a little over one week to go until the Super Bowl, it has come to my attention that while the majority of the viewing public is familiar with the Pittsburgh Steelers, most people (including most of Phoenix) know little about the Cardinals. With that in mind, Creative Differences will try to help you better know an Arizona Cardinal. First up: Linebacker Karlos Dansby.



Karlos Dansby wears uniform number 58 because he hates Heinz products and considers himself "above" them. As a result, he goes to great lengths to find Hunt's ketchup products, which isn't always an easy proposition. Additionally, his first name was spelled Carlos until he was old enough to change it, at which point he switched to a "K" because he loves Mortal Kombat. Karlos hates all of the Four Seasons' music, preferring Neil Diamond to pump himself up on gameday.

Dansby is also a virgin.

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Party time!



Hey everybody! It's Arizona's No. 1 No. 2 quarterback Matt Leinart! My Cardinals just defeated the Philadelphia Eagles by a touchdown to win the NFC title, and now we're going to the Super Bowl!

Kurt Warner was great in the first half and again in the clutch, Larry Fitzgerald played like the receiver Braylon Edwards wishes he was, and our defense knocked McNabb on his ass when they had to. But I was important to this win, too, because I spent the whole game on the bench planning the postgame party! I know you all want us to beat the Steelers, and I know you want to party, so let me introduce you to everybody!


This is my friend Anne. I'm not sure if that's her name, but she looks like an Anne. The girl on the right is Sally Stoneface. THAT name I remember. Just look at her. "Stoneface." You can't make that shit up!


These are my friends from the University of Arizona's School of Theatre Arts. Hey, girls, I'm going to "act" like a guy who beat your football team three times in college. OH WAIT, I DID! HAR HAR HAR HAR HAR!


You may remember these gals from those photos of me that leaked on the internet last spring. I sure learned a lesson after that ordeal. If you're going to party with high school girls...don't cover it up!


Hey look, Tara Reid decided to show!


I met these lovely ladies when I visited LSU with John David BOOTY BOOTY BOOTY BOOTY ROCKIN' EVERY-WHERE. I don't speak cajun, but I'm pretty sure they said they were all 21, which is a little old for me.


That's more like it. I'm glad you all came over!


Even better!


This is my baby mama Brynn and our son...er...uh... Anyways, being a father is a proud part of my life, but a dangerous part of partying, so stay safe!

Well guys, now that you're familiarized with the clientele here, have a good time. And no matter what happens, just remember, you could be partying in Pittsburgh!

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

A Friendly Reminder

If you hate the Steelers, you might want to avoid this blog for about the next two weeks.

Actually, since we need all the sweet, sweet readers we can get, come here anyway and express your hatred of me.

Pittsburgh's goin' to the Suuuuuuuuper Bowl.

Monday, January 19, 2009

Fuck TV, let's go make a movie



Yeah, that's me. Johnny Drama Chase. More like DJ MomJeans Speedskater. The less popular, less attractive, less-good-at-football brother of FLS, whose Vinny Chase Steelers will probably become the first franchise to win six Super Bowls while my beloved Browns toil away in NFL oblivion.

But this isn't a time for me to mope, or a time to rag on Shittsburgh (oops). FLS has earned the floor for his team's success, and he'll use it later.

Right now, however, I'd just like to inform everyone that I came through on one of my Cavalier predictions and tonight, I will be attending the Lakers-Cavs game at the Staples Center. My red Cavs hat will be donned, my Witness t-shirt will be worn loud and proud, and it's going to be great seeing sports' most glamorous franchise in person for the first time. The NBA is the Hollywood of sports, the most cinematic game we have. The NFL may dominate the TV ratings, but right now, I simply can't bear what it has to offer.

So fuck TV. Let's go make a movie.

Sunday, January 18, 2009

Silence Broken

I've not said anything all week and let all manner of retarded posts go up on this fine site because I'm afraid. I'm afraid that the Ravens might beat the Steelers and that I'll have to put up with Ray Lewis and company yapping after the game. I'm afraid that Steeler haters will have fuel for months. Most of all, I'm simply afraid that, after a year of working hard and getting my hopes up, my team will lose.

And then I sit back and think about it some more, and I think about what happened to a streaking Chargers team last week, and what happened to the Ravens twice earlier this year, and I think...


Steelers 27, Ravens 13.

Friday, January 16, 2009

Get decked for charity

Are you tired of your face as presently constituted? Are you sick of looking like a normal human being? Ever wish you had a crater the size of the Grand Canyon where your face used to be?

Well you're in luck, because I'm looking for someone to donate their face to appease my adolescent sports rage!


That's right, for no monetary charge whatsoever, YOUR FACE could occupy the white space above!

Why am I being so generous, you ask? During a loss to the Chicago Bulls Thursday evening, Cavs shooting guard Delonte West took a nasty tumble trying to block a shot by Derrick Rose and suffered a fractured wrist for his efforts. West also needed stiches to close a gash above his left eye and is expected to miss a minimum of 2-3 weeks.

As awesome as that is, Friday marks the beginning of one of our toughest stretches of the season. We start with a home date against the Hornets, then we hit the road for five of our next six, including visits to the Lakers, Blazers, Jazz and Magic. And now that West is hurt, we'll have two starters out the whole time and another who's unsure when he'll return because of the flu!

In other words...things are just FAN-FUCKING-TASTIC in CAVALIERS LAND!

That's why I'm going to let you stick your face where Derrick Rose's used to be! Imagine how much better I'll feel after firing a five-finger fuck-off into your face! You'll taste your teeth in no time! It's even an opportunity to be like Delonte West himself!

"I've been punched in the face many times before, I shook that off," West said.


Now you can shake it off, too! All you have to do is donate to Creative Differences, and DJMomJeans will make sure the anger of 10,000 Cavs fans finds your face!

Sign up today!

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Welcome to The Crock



A United States general nervously walks into an office at the Pentagon.

General Turgidson: Sir, I'm afraid we have a situation.


Secretary of Defense, arbitrarily played by Jon Voight: What is it, General?

General Turgidson: Are you familiar with the American Football Conference, sir?

Secretary Voight: By name only. It was a league started in 1970 under the Lamar Hunt administration, correct?

General Turgidson: Yes, sir. Every year, 16 teams compete for the right to represent the American Football Conference--

Dramatic pause.

General Turgidson: Or "AFC"...

Another dramatic pause.

General Turgidson: ...in a game known as the Super Bowl. At stake is domain over all professional football in America.

Secretary Voight: Right, right. Now it's coming back to me. I remember something about a rogue football faction, a mentally challenged group that detonated a nuclear weapon of monosyllabic speech and extreme annoyance whenever it reached the Super Bowl.

General Turgidson: That's correct, sir. It's a group known as the Pittsburgh Steelers.

Secretary Voight: Yes. Why are you telling me this?

General Turgidson: Because the Steelers...

Dramatic pause.

General Turgidson: ...might be going back to the Super Bowl.


Secretary Voight gathers the Cabinet and Joint Chiefs in a situation room at the Pentagon. The camera sweeps around Secretary Voight as he speaks.

Secretary Voight: My fellow Americans...

Another dramatic pause.

Secretary Voight: A grave situation has arisen. We have learned of an impending plot to restore supremacy in the American Football Conference to the Pittsburgh Steelers.

Vice President Forsythe: My God. Imagine the sheer idiocy unleashed on America if...

Secretary Voight: That's right. The Pittsburgh Steelers are, in fact, the dumbest and most obnoxious team in the history of sports. And that team, ladies and gentlemen...

ANOTHER dramatic pause.

Secretary Voight: ...has taken control of Heinz Field.

Vice President Forsythe: Heinz Field?

Secretary Voight clicks projector.


Secretary Voight: Otherwise known as "The Crock" because it's situated in Pittsburgh, a town that has a tough reputation but in reality is filled with weepy-eyed pussies who wilt whenever their teams aren't doing well.

Vice President Forsythe: Yes.

Secretary Voight: We have visual evidence, gathered by a squadron of stealth military planes, that this man...

Secretary Voight clicks projector.


Secretary Voight: ...General Francis X. Rooney, has taken control of The Crock, and plans to use it this Sunday to advance the Steelers to the Super Bowl.

Vice President Forsythe: Rooney?

Secretary Voight: Yes, he is a member of the Rooney family, a cabal of crusty old men who want nothing less than the unhappiness of 300 million Americans.

Vice President Forsythe: My God.

Secretary Voight: No, Mr. Vice President. OUR God...

Oh hey, another dramatic pause.

Secretary Voight: ...is Joe Patrick Flacco.

Vice President Forsythe: Who is Joe Patrick Flacco?

Secretary Voight clicks the projector.


Secretary Voight: He's the leader of a resistance movement known as the Baltimore Ravens. He's a quarterback that's playing beyond his years. And he's the only man...

More dramatic pause.

Secretary Voight: ...who's ever escaped from The Crock.

Vice President Forsythe: Where is he now?

Secretary Voight: We have already sent Flacco to break back into The Crock this Sunday and lead the Ravens against the Steelers. We hope, and we pray, that they wipe out the Steelers once and for all.

Vice President Forsythe: What are the chances of success?

Secretary Voight: Well, sir, we gathered a panel of four experts. There names were Major Marino, Sergeant Sharpe, Ensign Esiason and Lance Corporal Cowher.

Vice President Forsythe: And?

Secretary Voight: It turns out that Lance Corporal Cowher was working with the Steelers all along, so we had him executed.

Vice President Forsythe: What about the others?

Secretary Voight: Well, Sergeant Sharpe spoke some form of ebonics we've yet to decipher, and Ensign Esiason couldn't stop raving about how much he hates someone named Al Michaels.

Vice President Forsythe: I see.

Secretary Voight: Major Marino was the only one who gave us a probability, but he also gave us another course of action, something I think you and I should discuss privately.

Whoo buddy dramatic pause.

Vice President Forsythe: Then let's have it.


Secretary Voight leads Vice President Forsythe into his office and closes the door.

Secretary Voight: Mr. Vice President, I'm sure you're well aware of the Baltimore Ravens' past transgressions. The fact is, they're a splinter cell of a once-proud franchise, and their players are just as liable to commit acts of terrorism as they are to prevent them.

Vice President Forsythe: Yes, they are.

Secretary Voight: The reality is that we are dealing with two truly evil entities, and as I said before, Major Marino devised what I believe to be the best course of action.

Door opens. Dramatic pause. Major Marino walks in and stands beside Secretary Voight. Dramatically.


Secretary Voight: Mr. Vice President, this is Major Marino. His real name is Dr. Danley Goodspeed, and he has a background with Pittsburgh.

Danley Goodspeed: I played there, sir, in college. Pittsburgh has produced many good American quarterbacks, but it has also produced Mark May and LeSean McCoy.

Vice President Forsythe: My God, you're right.

Danley Goodspeed: Sir, this Sunday will be the largest gathering of grammar-challenged and hygiene-deficient players, coaches and fans in football history. So I suggest...

DRAMATIC PAUSE.

Danley Goodspeed: ...we nuke the stadium and wipe them all out with one fell swoop.

Vice President Forsythe's eyes open wide.

Vice President Forsythe: It's mass murder. It's unconstitutional. It's a plan that even Caesar himself would find arrogant and grandiose.

Secretary Voight and Danley Goodspeed look at each other.

Vice President Forsythe: It's also the finest damned plan I've ever heard. Make it so!

Secretary Voight: Yes, sir. God bless America.

Monday, January 12, 2009

The Kobayashi Morons



Lieutenant Saavik: Aft thrusters, Mr. Sulu. Take the Enterprise out of space dock.


Mr. Spock: Lieutenant, the sensors are indicating a disturbance in the NFL quadrant.

Saavik: What is the nature of this disturbance?

Spock: Unknown. There are readings of extreme idiocy and fundamental failure of the basic motor functions.

Saavik: Full speed, Mr. Sulu. We will investigate.

Spock: But Lieutenant, the disturbance is in the Pittsburgh zone. Our entrance will violate the protocols set forth by--

Saavik: I'm well aware of the risk, Mr. Spock. But if there is a conflict, Starfleet must act as a peacemaker.

Spock: Yes, Lieutenant.

Saavik: Mr. Sulu, are we in range?


Mr. Sulu: What?

Saavik: Damn it, Sulu, put down that Playgirl magazine and do your job.

Sulu: My apologies, Lieutenant. Yes, we're in range.

Saavik: Good. Are there any further readings, Mr. Spock?

Spock: Yes. It appears that the Pittsburgh Steelers are playing for the right to go to the Super Bowl.

Saavik: The Steelers...

Spock: Yes, the Steelers. Renowned for their running game, defense and totally overrated fan base. If we allow the Steelers to win another AFC title, then we'll have to listen to more talk about how "hardcore" their fans are when in reality they've never had to endure any prolonged stretch of adversity.

Saavik: Such indifference to pure idiocy would go against everything Starfleet stands for. Full speed ahead, Mr. Sulu.

Spock: But wait, Lieutenant. I'm afraid the situation is a little more complicated.

Saavik: How so?

Spock: We agree that the Steelers must be stopped. But to do so, we would have to support their opponents.

Saavik: Who are they fighting?

Spock: The Baltimore Ravens.

Saavik: The aborted fetus franchise led by the evil Klingon general Modell?

Spock: Yes.

Saavik: But that's against Starfleet protocol. And we can't obliterate both sides, because genocide is punishable by death under Starfleet mandate.

Spock: Indeed.

Sulu: Lieutenant, what course of action shall we take? Both the Steelers and the Ravens are approaching, and they know we've violated agreements to stay out of the Pittsburgh zone.

Spock: I would expect hostility, Lieutenant.

Saavik: Mr. Sulu--

Sulu: They've fired their proton torpedoes!






Captain Kirk: All right, that's enough.


Kirk: That's the end of the Kobayashi Maru, Lieutenant. You'll receive your grade by the end of the day.


Saavik: Permission to speak freely, sir.

Kirk: Granted.

Saavik: I don't feel this test was an accurate assessment of my abilities. The Steelers and the Ravens are both enemies of Starfleet and inexplicably hostile and stupid.

Kirk: And?

Saavik: There was no way to win.

Kirk: There's no correct resolution. It's a test of character.

Saavik: May I ask, sir, how you fared on the test?

Spock: His solution was, shall we say, interesting.

Kirk: It had the virtue of never having been tried ... I updated Starfleet mandate and made genocide legal. I changed the rules of the game. Anything else, Lieutanant?

Saavik: No, sir.

Kirk: Dismissed.






Spock: The test is somewhat macabre, Jim.

Kirk: I know, it's an awful scenario that hopefully never becomes a reality.

Spock: And what if it did?


Kirk: KHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!!!!!!!!!!!

Sunday, January 11, 2009

HERE WE GO CHARGERS HERE WE GO




And here's one for FLS:



You stay classy, Steelers.

And by classy, I mean catch dysentery and die.

Maybe No One Will Win--Liveblog

Giants. Eagles. Live Blog.



Cheers, mates. Tomorrow afternoon (or morning, if you're on cool California time like me), FLS and I will be live-blogging the Giants-Eagles TLC smackdown at the Meadowlands. No, we won't actually be there, but yes, we will actually be mixing our useless knowledge and jackass personalities into one big keg of haterade.

So if you want actual analysis, listen to Joe Buck's molasses playcalling and Troy Aikman talk like a guy who's had eight concussions. If you want wisecracks, insults, random pop culture references and cuss words, log on to Creative Differences tomorrow at kickoff for our first ever communal live blog.

That is all. Asswipes.

Wednesday, January 7, 2009

Browns hire the Mangenius



Per the Plain Dealer, the Cleveland Browns have reached an agreement with Eric Mangini to become the team's new head coach.

DJMomJeans likes. More to come.

I'm Going to Run a Number Six on You


I will murder you and all you hold dear.

Please learn how to do a proper lolNFL or do not do them at all.

This is a written threat, I will kill you and your family.

Let's see how they stack up: James Walker vs. DJMJ.

James Walker:
--7th degree black belt from Chuck Norris School of Asskickery
--Impervious to Cobra venom
--Body runs on motor oil

DJMJ:
--May or may not be an invalid
--Cannot read
--Distracting facial hair

Yes, I think I'd win, fuckwad.

Ol' James done got pissed off now, best hide the women, because you know what I do to the women.

Monday, January 5, 2009

1


Now don't ruin my fun and tell me it's meaningless until they get past the Sweet 16.

Sunday, January 4, 2009

GO CHARGERS GO TITANS





It's Just Not FAIR



Was watching the CBS pre-game show today. James Brown teased a segment to come later by saying, "The San Diego Chargers toppled the Colts in overtime without Peyton Manning ever touching the ball, and some are asking, 'Is that fair?'"

I'm sure that such a question would be posed if any other quarterback in the league were on the losing end of that decision, save for Brett Favre, because we all know that Favre would have automatically won the game with his grit and toughness.

Let's make sure that we completely amend the rulebook for the playoffs to make sure that Pey-Pey gets a shot to win the game every time.

Shannon Sharpe, amazingly, ftw: "The league MVP got the ball with 2:41 left, why not win the game right there and run the clock out?" BURN.