Live Tweeting Auburn and Arkansas' Football Contest, October 8th, 2011

As many of you may know, in a past life I was a journalist. It may also interest you that in this current life of mine, I ALSO made a living by journaling for publications at one point. While I don't do that anymore, I must confess, the bug to fill people's brainholes with knowledge hitherto unknown still gives me quite the itch from time to time, as well as the bedbugs that have infested my bed (NATURALLY).

Such was the case Saturday evening, when I watched the Arkansas Razorbacks play the Auburn War Eagle Tigers (I'm assuming this is some indiginous Native American mythological beast that is part tiger, part eagle, part soldier and part brown, that is able to receive large sums of money without people caring). I began tweeting behind-the-scenes facts about the game and its players. It received a BEVY of responses, and thusly, as per my journalistic mandate, I am sharing them with a larger audience to create even more responses, all of which will grant me a larger profile. Huzzah!

While some may protest my allegiances, know this: a true journalist is one who is objective almost all of the time, except when he is not.

• Auburn Coach Gene Chizik looks like a flesh Muppet Jim Henson aborted and flushed down an oft-used toilet. Pretty sure that's all true.
• It's a shame that the Auburn players holding the play-calling numbers on their sideline are only getting just above minimum wage.
• Michael Dyer burned every bridge he had in the vertically challenged community for using lifts to alter his height. Lifts, in that community, are lies.
• Arkansas RB Broderick Green gets eight to nine hours of eat a night.
• Arkansas RB Dennis Johnson, who suffered a season-ending bowel injury last year, opted for an experimental, speed-enhancing prosthetic during his surgery, hence his nickname "The Batmobile."
• Auburn QB Kiehl Frazier's favorite show, naturally, is "Frasier," even though he doesn't understand what a psychiatrist is or how to spell "Kyle."
• Auburn's starting freshman center, No. 50, is none other than Grammy-winning singer/songwriter Adele.
• Auburn's Barrett Trotter, QB, is currently under NCAA investigation for starring in one of those Toyota commercials where the parents are having a great time without him.
• Gene Chizik's pregame pep talk fell flat when he told a too-soon, albeit hilarious, leprosy/Al-Davis joke. Clearly, his team is still shaken.
• Auburn LB Eltoro Freeman's nickname "The Narrator" come from his ceaseless in-game orations, NOT because his dad is Morgan Freeman, which is also true.
• Auburn's TE Philip Lutzenkirken is pregnant. Please do not tell his parents or the homecoming committee.
• Arkansas Coach Bobby Petrino's genius does not stop on the gridiron. Not only did he invent Groucho Marx masks, but he has invested those earnings BRILLIANTLY.
• Auburn's DeAngelo Benton was that kid in your 10th grade biology class that got way too into dissecting frogs. Also, he always blinks twice when he blinks.
• HALFTIME: Chizik is going back to the Al-Davis-leprosy jokes to fire his team up again, this time using props. This does not bode well for Auburn.
• Auburn's offensive coordinator Gus Mahlzahn has never once used toilet paper, which is somewhat disgusting. However, in his defense, he's never needed it before.
• Auburn QB Kiehl Frazer went through fifteen blue mouthpieces before Gus Mahlzahn convinced him they weren't Airheads, or even edible.
• Sources claim the funniest joke Auburn's Barrett Trotter has heard or told is pronouncing his favorite treat as "Famous Anus Cookies." Get it? Me neither.
• Arkansas' Joe Adams has one rush for 92 yards, the second-longest rush in Arkansas history. Sorry, that bit of trivia was irrelevant.
• Kiehl Frazier has been downing Mike's Hard Lemonades since about halfway through the third quarter. This hasn't impaired his ability at all.

And BEFORE YOU KNEW IT, the game was over. Arkansas had scored 38 points, while Auburn had only scored 14. After some quick statistical analysis from replay officials, aided by the University of Arkansas' Department of Mathematical Sciences, it was determined that Arkansas had more points, and was therefore, the victor.

DID I MISS ANYTHING? Of course not. But if there were some other aspect of this game I neglected to mention due to unimportance, and you would like mentioned, mention it yourself here in our unimportant comments section.

Good day! Godspeed! Cheeseburger!

Monday Morning Shit Storm

Over the weekend, several of the GRH Faithful convened in Alton, Illinois for mild debauchery and much rain dancing. While there, we adopted two young men who were canoeing down the length of the Mighty Mississippi River. Naturally, their tales of adventure was well received by we men of fortune. Going out on the river, living off the land and kindness of strangers and being men under the sun intrigued us greatly.

Then we drank a bunch of jello shots with them and they turned out to be chill guys.

You can follow their exploits here, but this leads the Hobbertariat to a greater query, aptly in time for the MMSS: Of any manly bucket list feat of masculine prowess one could reasonable accomplish, what would you do and why?

For example, Icehouse once rode a bicycle from Houston to Austin for charity. Hear hear, mighty Icehouse! However, if you've already done some great feat of note, understand it must come with a suggestion for something you'd like to do to. We require this as a toll for your braggardness, though we would enjoy hearing the tale.

I want to backpack through Europe. Literally, one backpack with my necessities, phone and credit card only for life-threatening emergencies, a set amount of cash (with an understanding that I may have to work or barter some of my belongings for more currency later), and the boots on my feet. I got a taste of it in high school, traveling from Paris to Rome, through Nice and Florence, but it was well-organized, comfortable, and I was in high school and was therefore retarded. I want to see it as a man.

Hobbers: Manly voyage, undertaking, or whatever. Commence.

OMG! PLAYOFF CALIBER FUNK!

German Hank Hill Dirk made OKC look silly the other night, knocking down 48 pale and uninspiring points, none of which made while breathing through his nostrils. Last night, Alabaster Jones got his. And how!

On Professional Basketball Players Playing Worse Than I Would Play Professional Basketball

When I watch a professional athlete perform, I usually have to stand in awe and silent acknowledgement that I could never do what he does. When I see Mr. Pujols drive a ball into the upperdecks, I remember how not far my longest homer ever sailed. The same is true for Peyton Manning flinging a ball 60 yards with a flick of his wrist into a hole the size of a basket.

This acknowledgement is never as profound as it is when I watch NBA basketball. I could practice hitting, or passing, but you can't practice being tall. Even "little" guys like Steve Nash are 6'3" or so. THAT'S TALL, YO.

So you can't imagine my utter disappointment when I see some overgrown sliltish oaf playing basketball at a level under my own. Enter Brad Miller. Enter Disappointment.

Anyone who touches the ball thrice, each time to subsequent disastrous effect, is worse than I am. Even I know when to NOT touch the ball. His time was right after he gave it to Nash. The first time. I can only imagine the diasappointment of those he was also playing with:

Kyle Lowry: "What the hell, BRAD."
Miller: (low grumbling) "Man, I dunno...I just tried....play hard...tough loss....guurrrhhhh...tough play."
Aaron Brooks: (slapping Miller's hand away) "No, Brad. The postgame spread is for people who aren't made of fuckup."
Miller: "Real tough los-..."
Chase Buddinger: "Thanks a lot, BRAAAAD."
Miller: "You're welcome? Err...Anyone want to go clubbing?"
Luis Scola: "No, BRAAAAAD."
Miller: "Tough loss."

Again, tough loss. But then again, it could've been less tough if, you know, he hadn't blow the game all single handedly and whatnot.

Charlie Sheen Will Get You Amped

Ok, quick recap:

Image via Warming Glow
By now, Charlie Sheen an his antics have been crammed into your brain because a famous person going on tv and flipping their shit in a drug-addled haze is somehow different than the guy at the bus stop around the corner flipping his shit in a drug-addled haze. Then again, the guy on the street corner hates on clouds instead of bedding porn stars. So Charlie's got him there.

Icehouse would like to take this opportunity to state that Platoon, Wall Street, the Major League Series and the Hot Shots! series were all vital to his upbringing, and remain essential to any home video collection and discussion of fine cinema, regardless of how much bunghole his current show eats.

So while there have been many memes with his quotes, the GRH team gives you: Charlie Sheen, SPORTS.

Pete Carroll's was easy enough to get started with.


Phil Jackson.


And on with the show...




























That was fun. Good work, team.

Monday Morning Sh*t Storm!

So the Super Bowl happened and it was a really good game. You had a big lead, some key injuries, dropped passes, a comeback, intrigue, guts, all that crap. It was good stuff.

But of course, this isn't what you're lead to believe you need to be talking about today.

Did you HEAR Christina Aguilera's butchering of the National Anthem? That Vader commercial I saw online last week was UPROARIOUS! THAT MOVIE LOOKS PRETTY OKAY! I didn't know the Black Eyed Peas could sing and dance?! THAT WAS PRETTY OKAY TOO!

The Super Bowl is remarkable in that if there weren't a football game going on, you'd still get about half the viewing audience. People who don't care about football - AND THERE ARE SEVERAL - still watch it, and tell the same tired "Why is this football game getting in the way of my commercials? Oh, Carol in the office and I are JUST A HOOT! WE SAID THAT LIKE EIGHT TIMES THIS WEEK IN THE OFFICE! YEAH, CAROL WORKS WITH ME!"

So this is a free range poopscapade today: Best/Most Agreeable Football Distraction, Worst/Least Agreeable Football Distraction, best off the field moment, worst off the field moment, etc. etc. Basically, what was your least or most favorite part of yesterday other than the football.

Because if you're reading this website, I likely already know what you thought of the game, as most of it is due to empirical facts, like completion percentages and turnover margins.

Mine? This joke: "Brett Favre's penis is rolling over in its cave right now." Thank you, Fabrice Fabrice.

Silver Medal: Casey Matthews having a Championship Belt made for Rodgers before the game. Most would've called that a jinx.

Bronze Medal: People flipping out about the Kardashian Sketchers ShapeUps commercial. I say "people" but I mean the uberconservative Bible Belt types I grew up with and have somehow become Facebook friends with. To them I say HAHAHAHAHAHA!

Shit storm! Commence!

Ways To Make Zack Like Basketball: Make Players Good Looking and Then Throw Them Through The Air

This is an ongoing series throughout what, for me, is the worst period of time in sports. Baseball is a few months away, and football is as good as dead until the fall. And it's all because, no matter how much I try (AND BELIEVE YOU ME I TRY A LOT) I just can't watch, like, enjoy, get behind, or generally stand basketball. I'll watch a Blake Griffin dunk, or a last second Rudy Gay buzzer-beater, or LeBron do anything. But, and nothing against basketball or any of its fine fans, this time of year is a real struggle for me to get through. Feel my pain, and bear with me, as I try to show room for the game's improvement.

Make The Players Better Looking, Then Throw Them Through The Air

If there's anything I don't like watching, it's men sweating as they perform feats of athletic prowess. The speed. The dexterity. The muscular definition. I've got none of that. I somewhat famously pulled a muscle or broke a rib sneezing. That's a bodily function. I didn't hurt it doing anything as athletic as Phil Jackson does on the bench coaching, and he's like 119 years old or something (THERE'S SOMETHING TO THAT ZEN, KIDS). Seeing all these guys, you know, moving well puts me in a bad mood. Plus, I'm not tall at all. All of those guys in the NBA? They're really freaking tall, which is why most of them got into basketball in the first place. Steve Nash is supposed to be short, and he's like 6'2" or something. Baseball? Prince Fielder is good at it and he's so fat, he'd float in most bodies of water, and that's AWESOME. Humans don't play football anymore, it's steroid-fueled creatures of Frankenstein and those dancing robots Fox has that are really playing under those pads and jerseys.

In order for me to tune in to college or NBA hoops, I'm going want to look at the players. And you know who I like looking at? Pretty women. Fill the NBA with gorgeous women running up and down the court, sweating, and fouling each other. That way when I watch them, I'm going to want to keep watching them play all of the basketball things that I don't understand. You want to know why all of those late night channels run ads with voluptuous women talking on phones? Because people like watching them do things, like talk on the phone and demand money. I'd wager a lot more people will enjoy watching them do whatever it is that people who play basketball do.

Also, other people should be allowed to throw the now good-looking basketball players through the air to make plays. And a lot of plays, too, like mid-air passes, throwing a person into a dunk, and imagine the midcourt buzzer beaters! In the NFL, there are rules forbidding players to use other players to levitate themselves. If there are any of those rules in the NBA, we should get rid of them. That way, players could get thrown through the air, simulating the same - IF NOT MORE - type of high-flying antics that NBA fans already enjoy. People already don't like the WNBA because nobody's flying around, and even if they did, well, now we're just back to the original problem with the NBA. My advice is to make sure that the good-looking players are flying around.

Plus, people getting thrown through the air is just cool. I believe everyone here knows my stance on the necessity of a return to an Era of Catapults.

That would make me watch some more basketball. 66 days until MLB opening day, by the way.

(Originally published on Zack Gets Down, a neat website you should all check out.)

The LORD Your God Unscathed By Bills' WR Johnson's Lamentations

FT. LAUDERDALE, Fla. - The LORD Your God, Sovereign King of the Infinite and Infinitesimal Universe, says that he is relatively unscathed by Bills WR Stevie Johnson's Twitter blast at his holiness, blaming Him for his dropped catch that would have won the game for the Bills vs. the Steelers yesterday.

"I heard about it," God told several reporters during a routine visit to a Florida retirement village. "I mean, I hear everything. Even social media posts, which is really starting to clog up the comm. lines, but I digress...ONLY THE INFALLIBLE AMOUNT OF DIGRESSION, THOUGH.

"Basically, I heard what he said, but I've got other things to worry about than what goes on in Pittsburgh or Buffalo," concluded God. "Sure, I gave him a career and talent and birth in the US of A, but oh, No! I let him drop a pass! I'm the a-hole."

God said he doesn't recall what he was doing precisely when Johnson dropped the ball, but that he was a little worn out from making sure Portland didn't become a crater, and He doesn't "even think about time and space the same way you people do, so whatever."

God said he had no comment on whether or not to continually plague Johnson, but "I totally could if I wanted to, NO SWEAT." God then turned his attention to making certain Titans CB Cortland Finnegan was defecated on by an overhead bird.

ESPN College Football Analyst Trevor Matich Declared Legally Dead Four Years Ago

BRISTOL, Conn. - Sources behind the scenes at ESPN have confirmed that college football analyst and former NFL and BYU lineman Trevor Matich, despite being hired by the sports broadcasting giant two years ago, was declared legally dead no less than four years ago.

"Yeah, I mean, it's pretty clear to me," said fellow ESPN analyst and physician Dr. Jerry Punch. "He's got absolutely no brain activity. Merely repeating what he sees on film and enunciating it too harshly, with no concept of tone or diction...open and shut case.

"Oh yeah," concluded Dr. Punch. "He had a temperature of 66 degrees and no pulse whatsoever. A lot of drool when he's talking, too."

The incident was reported after records were found that Matich was hit by an oncoming bus, launching him into a nearby river, but not before he was hit by an oncoming speedboat. Cause of death was due to drowning due to sinking as well as blunt force trauma, none of which was to his brain.

Matich said he couldn't confirm or deny that he had been killed four years ago, and instead insisted we look at game film of the Oregon-Stanford game that showed conclusively that Oregon was a more physical team, despite the obvious double-digit deficit the Cardinal had.

ESPN has refused to comment on the life status of Lou Holtz and insist that Mark May is just a huge asshole.

Peyton Hillis Groggily Eats Bowl of Nuts and Bolts Instead of Traditional Cinnamon Toast Crunch

CLEVELAND, OH - Browns RB Peyton Hillis, groggy after a late-start this morning, reportedly at three pounds of nuts, bolts, washers, and other assorted bits of hardware, having mistaken the metal pieces for his morning bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

"Aw, dammit," said Hillis, a bruising 230lbs. back who was traded from Denver and has become the workhorse for the Browns. "I musta been on auto-pilot this morning. Ate some metal stuff again."

Hillis admitted that he realized his mistake about halfway through his bowl of metalware, but had "already used most of the milk and woulda hated to waste it like that." He also stated that eating three pounds of food for breakfast was not out of the ordinary, and that once he, Coach Eric Mangini and GM Mike Holmgren at 140 lbs. during one mini-camp breakfast.

Caption Contest! Homer Style!

Well, well, well. If it isn't a well-known sportscaster who happens to be ridiculously good-looking with the nation's best collegiate quarterbacker. Erin Andrews and Ryan Mallett? DO WE SMELL ROMANCE?

Could be. Sources indicate to GRH's Celebrity Gossip offices that she, feeling jilted by the braindead and drooling non-advances of another collegiate athlete and the coming out of another former flame, has sought comfort and has confided in the readily available, cannon-armed Mallet, who does not own, nor does he know how to operate, any sort of clandestine video recording device.

This week's caption contest is for these two newly-enthralled lovebirds, God bless them. Here's some starters for you!

• Erin: "My what a handsome penis you have!"
• Ryan: "I'd like to fling YOU around for a couple thousand yards."
• Erin and Ryan, in unison, Key of C: "Do you remember the first time you fell in love? Me neither, not anymore..."

You know, it's not effiminate to cry, just a litle, when you see two good people getting together. Caption on.

Woo Pig Sooie and Stuff!

This is really just an excuse to post this picture. I'm way too rational to be considered a true Razorback fan, but they're my favorite team, and they are expected to do as well as QB Ryan Mallett does this year.

Little to no hubris coming from this guy. Just statements of fact.

The More You Know.

A Brief Discussion on the Last Night's Cardinals/Reds Fracas

Alright, everyone. Chill out. Calm down. Calm DOWN, got it? Okay. We're good.

Whew.

Things escalated quickly there, huh? Got out of hand pretty fast, eh? That was something.

Let's look at the events as they happened, starting with Monday afternoon:

• Brandon Phillips, Reds All-Star 2B, says in so many words he hates the Cardinals and their bitching.


• The national media, likely lurking beind Phillips' locker, transcribed these statements, delivering them directly to the Cardinals.


• Phillips, aware of the tension, attempts to do his customary complimentary tap of the catcher and umpire's respective shin guards.


• Yadier Molina - WITHOUT THE AID OF A TRANSLATOR - tells Phillips "I'm not your bitch." He kicks his bat away and stands face to face with Phillips on home plate like some sort of mangodthing.


• Initial escalation. Words are exchanged hautily.


• Tony LaRussa blames Dusty Baker for the scruffle. Both are ejected.


• Secondary escalation: Momentum seems to push an agitated Chris Carpenter, Cardinals co-ace, Scott Rolen, a former Cardinal and nice guy, and Jason LaRue toward the back gate. Video shows the Reds' starting pitcher Johnny Cueto running around the scrum, then getting himself pinned BY HIS OWN PLAYERS, and starts kicking.


• It is determined that Cueto, as most baseballers do, was wearing metal cleats while kicking, inserting said cleats into LaRue's face. No cleats were inserted to Cueto's OWN TEAMMATES' respective faces.

That's about it. Cards won the game, and Yadier hit a homer. That was neat.

THE VERDICT:


Don't talk shit, and none of this happens. If you talk shit, don't be friendly. Don't be a flipflopping shit-talker: The shit ends up in your mouth, son. Lesson learned.


Don't kick people after running into the scrum and getting pinned BY YOUR OWN PLAYERS. That's super-unprofressional. I don't know where you learned how to fight. Also, if you're big enough to kick someone in the face with metal spikes, be big enough to try and speak to the press without looking so scared while being translated. Made your catcher look like your attorney. Have some pride, man.


DB, I'm all for you defending your boy. But look at the tape first. "They had him pinned up pretty good like a rat in a corner." So the other rats pinned up the one rat and that one rat got so mad scared he starting kicking with his metal spikes? BOOSHMAIN. PS - The manager and the pitcher of the other team punked you out there. That's where you are in baseball. You could have stayed with the Cubs and done that, silly!


He already said this very well.

Browns DT Shaun Rogers Purchases Impressive Arsenal of Waterguns

CLEVELAND, Ohio - Browns DT Shaun Rogers has purchased hundreds of waterguns in the wake of his sentencing for carrying a semiautomatic handgun into an airport, according to a noticeably unsettled aid for NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell.

Rogers, according to statements from Amazon.com and eBay, purchased the guns minutes after having to forfeit his own weapon on a court order.

"I like the water," said Rogers.

Goodell, who is weighing whether or not to suspend the Pro-Bowler, said this may be taken into account.

"It just seems too silly for me," said a red-faced Goodell."I mean, he just got busted for handguns! Now, he's got a lot of handguns, but they only shoot water! This really crumbles my biscuits..."

When asked to respond to Goodell's biscuit crumbling, Rogers responded with "I like the water," and fired a high-powered stream of water, mercilessly toppling all seven of the arranged soda cans from their perch on his fence.

"Gotcha," he cheered. "I like the water."

OMG! WELL-TIMED REBOUND AND SUBSEQUENT LAY UP!

THE BALL WENT IN THE CIRCLE AS TIME EXPIRED! GOOD THING KOBE BRYANT MISSED THAT THREE POINT SHOT, SAYS RONALD ARTEST, EH COWORKERS? HUZZAH! I KNEW THE LAKERS WOULD WIN BECAUSE THEY ARE THE TEAM THAT HAS MOST RECENTLY WON A CHAMPIONSHIP AND USED TO EMPLOY THE SERVICES OF MAGIC JOHNSON.


I watched a How I Met Your Mother rerun last night. If you're not watching that show, you're missing out on some good ole fashioned, American, all-Caucasian guffawing.

Monday Morning S--t Storm!

This MMSS promises to be short and sweet, like me dipped in chocolate sauce:

Greatest Off-the-Field Distraction.

Answers must take into account the magnitude of the game from which one is distracted (Super Bowl > Jusy Any Ol' NFL Game, Masters > FedEx Cup, etc.) as well as the distraction itself (Michael Vick Busted On Dogfighting > Adrian Peterson Getting a Speeding Ticket).

Mine's timely.

Arguably, the second-biggest name in golf is Phil Mickelfatson. He is also called "Lefty" because he plays...wait for it...left-handed. So this weekend he wins, again arguably, the biggest major tournament of the year, the Masters. CNN's breaking-news-to-the-minute headline?

"Tiger Finishes Fourth in Masters; Mickelson wins"

Oof. When you don't get top billing on your on tournament? That's distraction.

Plus, I think hitting a tree with your car and a bunch of ho's falling out of it is a pretty lofty action worth a distraction.

Hobbmentors: Commence the banter.

Wait! There Are Political Implications To That Game You're About To Watch Drunk!

Whoa, there, mindless fan! Don't think you can escape the non-stop monkey chatter of contemporary American politics by escaping into the brutish serenity of athletic competition. The two are related! Don't you get it, you FOOL?! Now, take some time to write your congressman or woman about how FED UP you are with the status quo in Washington, or better yet, donate money to this campaig-

Gotcha. April Fool's! You thought it was going to get political, didn't you? You did? That's silly! Sports and politics have very little in common other than rabid profanity and the occasional dirty player. However, one political think tank has polled 218,000 sports watching individuals to tally if and how they would vote as a sports fan. Mildly interesting stuff for a Thursday morning.




Well, Duh

• PGA Tour: Old people vote in record numbers to insure their legacy will last long after their dead and gone. Old people also enjoy watching golf. Bingo bango.


• WNBA: If you were to be like "Hey, point out to me where you think African-American lesbians would be," I'd point right there.


• MLS: What sport do most long haired, skinny jean-wearing types admire most? Cross country running. Their second choice would be soccer.

Not Duh, But It Makes Enough Sense

• NBA: I'm not saying that every African-American votes liberally, or that every fan of the NBA is African-American. That'd be stereotyping and just wrong. But, statistically speaking, the NBA has many more African-Americans playing and in their fan base, and, statistically speaking, African-Americans have traditionally leaned leftward. PS - I'm not a racist.
  
• NFL: This has the biggest circle, and more than likely, is most reflective of the country. The USA has been described as center-right for decades now, and its most popular sport is definitely football. No question about it. It's football. Sorry, baseball.
  
• MLB: "But we're America's pastime!" Okay, you're still not as big as football. But you get to be the most politically neutral, probably due to your storied tradition before political parties also had storied traditions. Congrats! You're fair game.

Wait, What?

• Monster Trucks: Wait, I didn't know this was a sport. And I can't believe that it's a "sport" that trends liberally. They probably still hate Lincoln or something.
  
• WWE: The low voter turnout I totally get, but liberally? I don't really think "progressive" when I see a fan asking for one steroid-induced human to break another over his knee cap.
  
• Minor League Baseball: This is just barely on the liberal side. I guess it's because they just eat up that whole idealistic hope thing that the Democratic party has been trademarking lately. They don't matter though.

Browns FB Hillis Drives All The Way to Denver's Facilities Before Remembering He Was Traded

DENVER, Co. - Traded to Cleveland from Denver in the much-ballyhooed Brady Quinn trade, fullback Peyton Hillis drove all the way from his new Ohio home to the Bronco's training facilities before remembering he was no longer a Bronco.

"Aw, dammit," said Hillis, a bruising 230lbs. fullback who was traded on Monday. "I musta been on auto-pilot this morning. Went to the wrong work again."

Hillis said he became slightly suspicious when he had to fill up his truck for the fourth time on his 1,351 mile, 21 hour and 11 minute journey through six states. "Thought something was wrong with my Chevy, so thank God for that."

Hillis saw limited playing time under new coach Josh McDaniels, but wowed Mike Shanahan and the Broncos in 2008, an injury-wrought season for Denver running backs, where he also ate four lbs. of concrete on a dare from Shanahan.

GRH Exclusive: True, Southern Patriot Congratulates USA's Evan Lysacek

This was found in the GRH Mailroom on our fax machine. We can only assume its veridity enough to publish it, having checked with other media sources who received the same message, and leave it to you, the discerning reader, to determine its genuine authenticity. Read on and thank you.

-The Ghost of Roy Hobbs

USA! USA! USA! USA! Hooooooboy! We got us a MASSACRE here, boy I will tell you what! We ain't even half way through these here O-Limpics up there 'round Canadia and already we're moppin' the floor with these other sumbitches! We got more metals [sic.] than Pittsburgh, baby! USA! USA! USA!

And we gotta give credit where credit is due. That belle of a woman Lindsey Vonn sucked it up like a man and skiied on that bad leggahers. That red-headed stepsister won at the halfpipe, like she's done over and over again, and against the menfolk! Well-done and bravo.

But even in the sissiest of "sports" has the flag of our fathers reigned soupreem [sic.]. I'm talking about...

(/accidently swallows mouthful of Skoal)

...men's figure skating.

I ain't never watched it before. I don't ever plan on watching it. That's for them people who float around and dance around like this right here (/jumps around oddly with wrists unfettered), not for me and not for most Amuricans. We like meat and potatoes. We like our trucks and four-wheelers. We like George Strait and we think that homewreckin' Keith Urban can make out with that Adam Lambert all he wants to in the presence of the Devil in his den in hell. Not for me, thank ye kindly.

But I'll be derned. This Evan Lysacek (I think it's pronounced like Licorice, like Twizzlers) gone and won for the US of A. How 'bout that. Bout time he did something meaningful for his country, I guess. I don't know. I didn't watch it.

I didn't watch one minute of his what-I-heard was a flawless performance; a dextrous combination of athletic prowess and regal grace. Not once was my television tuned to his masterful 6'2" frame, gliding through the air like an angel that done falled from heaven to say hey to us humans on Earth. I didn't see him stick every landing with the authority of a grown man commanding the Earth beneath him.

(/wipes drool off chin)

I think I was watching an episode of 'Reba' or something. Tammy's got a few of them reruns taped, so we watch it most nights.

Not saying I wouldn't have liked to have seen the Twizzler boy whip up on that ole Ruskie. From what I saw heard, he was walking in like the skatin' court the Hotel Del Queero and he was the pro-pry-etor [sic.]. Figures as much. You know what they say about them fairy Russians...gotta keep warm somehow! HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHAWWWWWWGawh!

I was just happy to see one of them godless, sinful communist bastards git theirs. Heard he came back just for the gold medal, now safely in Amurica, where it belongs. Got nothing against him, the homo, and I hope he finds Jesus through this tragedy ah-his. Hate the sin, not the sinnin' queer, to quote my mama.

Too bad I didn't watch the whoopin, Lysacek threw down on him.

(/tobacco falls out of mouth, down shirt, to floor, arms fall to his side)

Maybe I would have half-way enjoyed the show. Maybe I could have actually stomached the way he masterfully skated along the ice with the precision of a vernerable brain surgeon; slicing and cutting his patient, the ice, with the tender care of a loving father. Hell, I mighta been able to sit through his routine, as his body moved with both the viscosity and purpose of liquid hot magma spouting from a volcano atop Mount Olympus, gleefully scaring all those who come into its contact with the happy memory of a performance so wonderfully demonstrated with the ease - yet strength - of a world class athlete; a portrait willfully etched into all who purveyed it for all time. Maybe I could sat comfortably instead of with my legs all bunched up, or even stand up knocking over my Dr. Pepper and my Bud Light, as he danced, in the truest form of the word, he danced to Rimsky-Korsakov's Scheherazade, reflecting each note with a concordant move; as if the two were born of the same womb, destined to be paired together. And as the sinews of his quadracepts, torso and mighty shoulders melted together with the rest of his brut frame, losing all sense of individulity, rather becoming one mass, one energy, one synergy in lockstep with the rest of this beautiful thing we call the Universe, climaxing to a point in which every living soul and creature turned toward the rink, which was its epicenter and acknowledged "You are Supreme," maybe...

...uh, maybe I wouldn't have thought it was all THAT bad. Maybe chant "USA!" a coupla times. But I really. Can't stand that sissy crap. Not one bit.

(/adjusts pants, oversized belt-buckle)

So, uh, congrats Mon-sewer [sic: Monsieur] Lick-o-rish. USA? All the way!




I'm not gay.

Warmest Regards,

Danny Joe Hampel, Jr.
Goose Bucket, Alabama

Non-Footballing Super Bowl Recap!

Okay, so for most of us who don't live in the city of Indianapolis or the state of Louisiana, last night's game was just a good contest between two great QBs with pretty baller defenses. The game itself didn't disappoint, coming down to a key play ("OH MAN, DID YOU SEE THAT PICK?! PEYTON MANNING IS BAD AT FOOTBALL."). But, again, for most of us, we were likely needing the whole package to keep us glued: a good game AND a healthy dose of thoughtless entertainment.

Here's a review of some of the non-football elements of the Super Bowl.

Warm Fuzzies: The Great Spirits of Humanity and Triumph, which brought you such notable hits as Jesus of Nazareth, Rudy, the Oscar Meyer Wienermobile and Barack Obama have come through again to give you Walking on Water: The 2009 New Orleans Saints, which is the feel-good story everyone wanted. This is somewhat football related, in that the outcome of the game determined it, but get ready to hear about "just what this Super Bowl means to the city devastated by a Hurricane only four years agoooo..." I blacked out; what happened. What did I miss.

Nothing wrong with it or anything, but I'd like to think that the city of New Orleans has plenty to be proud of, even if the milk-drinkers of Indy had prevailed last night. But good for them, good for New Orleans. Now they have what they've never needed and have done fairly well without: a reason to get blackout drunk in early-to-mid February.

Who's Playing at Halftime?: Ever since Janet Jackson's boob happened in 2004, and MTV was banned from hosting anymore Super Bowl halftimes, the overhyped mid-game celebration has sported a roster of increasingly elderly bands and frontmen, like the Rolling Stones, Paul McCartney, and Bruce Springsteen. This is been to most everyone's liking.

The Who played this year, and I was much more entertained than in years previous. Of course, I like The Who more than those other guys, but I thought it was a better set, anyway. Keith Moon's son wasn't Keith Moon, but if you can't get Keith Moon, being that he's dead and all, you may as well get Keith Moon's seed to play. Townshend's performance was a 33% for me: He windmilled, but no powerslide? No guitar smash? Those are three classic and iconic rock moves that he himself coined. I understand his elder state may have hindered the powerslide (no one wants to see an old man shatter his own kneecaps on National Television [except me]), but he could have at least thrown a guitar or two down.

A Reason to Put a TV in the Bathroom: Making urine during a football game is and should be relegated to the commercials. But this silly Super Bowl, making better commercials for the game? For shame!

Luckily, most Super Bowl commercials are disappointing.

I think we may have hit a low point in the collective intellectual humor of the nation as a whole. Many more commercials than I can count featured the same premise: Is that a MAN? Not wearing all of his CLOTHES? But he is in/looks like he belongs in a REGUALR OFFICE SETTING! BWAHAHAHAH GETMETHATPRODUCTINBULKRIGHTNOW! The Denny's commercials with the screaming chicken was good, and reminded me I haven't been to Denny's in awhile and that Tuesday Tuesday Tuesday might be a good day to go. I don't think Miller Lite even tried to compete this year.

And of course...
"Omigah, this was like so bad and offensive and bad. I mean, abortion is like awesome and Tim Tebow used to be awesome, but now he is like not awesome." Talk about making a detrimentally bigger deal out of something than it is, which is what I think the groups who were out to harpoon this commercial did. They made a big stink out of something that was, for all intents and purposes, rather benign.

The group NOW, the primary deal-raisers, and their president made a weak statement saying that they weren't offended by the anti-abortion message so much as the violence against women it encouraged. Yeah, because Tim Tebow fake tackling his mother does that. /slaps forehead. When the anti-abortion group gets ads putting coat hangers and fetuses in my face during the Super Bowl, then I'll hear your valid complaints.

The best commercial in my book is still a commercial that's been out for awhile: Wal-Mart's Clown-Stepping-On-Unicorn. Hooboy.

Other Goings On:

+ I thought Jim Nantz did a good job in the booth. He's can get professionally excited. Meanwhile, I think Phil Simms may have significant brain damage, or voice immodulation disorder. Or both!

+ The Puppy Bowl was adorable. My thoughts was that they could use humane society dogs up for adoption in the bowl and tell everyone that puppies not adopted from the Puppy Bowl would, you know...not be around anymore. That would probably move some puppies off the shelves pretty fast(Oh, God, I'm just kidding, remove the wad of panties from your butthole).

+ I made sausage balls for the party last night. Four cups Bisquick, four cups cheese and a tube of sausage. Last time I made them, they came out too-buscuity, so naturally, this year I added more sausage. This created a contained grease fire that burned the bottoms of the balls. Once those were removed, they were pretty good. Better luck next year.

+ Pretty cool web site here pitting the 44 Super Bowls against the 44 Presidents of the United States. SPOILER ALERT! Super Bowls won 24-20, but that's only because we've had a string of not-as-good Presidents as of late. However, rest assured Clinton vs. XLII (Giants vs. Pats) was a barn-burner.

All in all, pretty good. Can't wait until baseball season. Then it will be football again. Good times, good times. Feel free to add your thoughts, musings, and et cetera in the comment section.