Friday, August 25

My Draft Report Card

Just win baby! We all try to operate by those terms the late Al Davis bestowed on us. Just win even at all cost. Looking at the first round and the number of rookies taken teams have re-grouped and strategizing differently. 8 out of 12 picks were rookies. Do first round picks have value again? Just maybe especially with big name vets falling to the second round. So breaking down the draft just looking at the teams and doing a mock report card.

Ann Arbor: Not a pick until the 2nd. Joe Williams? I like it I don’t think Carlos keeps that job long. James Conner mandatory for Lev Bell. Other picks? Nope just these 2 and it could have been a lot worse. B+

Arkdale: The team to beat. Julio and Dez join David Johnson, Rodgers, and Gostkowski now. Plus grabbed young talent and still have some coin left… A

Canton: Zeke is gone, who do we get? Jamaal Williams! Huh? Foreman, Perine? But wait Marlon Mack in the 3rd? I like that pick actually. Kizer for the future? C

Chicago: 99 problems and Mitch aint one! He wanted his dude and got him. World Champs seem confident. Hope Blount gets himat least half of his totals. Straight homer picks. C

D.C. At one-time owned like 98.4% of the draft and at the end of the day got at least 4net outta it. I do like the upside of Mahomes. C

Flint: Cue up Ben Stien voice. Flint….Flint…FFFFFF!

Mizzou: CMac22, CDavis, Perine, Dr. K didn’t walk to wild this year. Kicker anyone? A

New York: I mean yuk! No first or 2nd probably could had spent some money. But no Head Coach…D

Orlando: Stuck on a Thielen…..oh shut up, I’m not the only one who has done that lol. But did get AJ Green. B

Pitt: Excellent 2nd round for them. Had my eye on em as they did as well. If Cam is healthy might be a good pic as well. B+

S.B. Beastmode for 8.5 large? Only time will tell. OJ Howard if a catching TE could be a beast. Hopefully he landed in the right system. C+

Not rating my team because after the first round I could care less, until I seen someone and made a trade with Bonk for the 1st time in 7 years for a 5th round next year and took Cooper Kupp. He might be a name we hear more often this year.

Supplemental draft has been approved and have already had one. So excuse me so I can take my cap space but a bag of cheeseburgers and see if one more RB can land in South Beach. Happy Bidding! Talk to you kiddos later!


Mr. W

Thursday, December 12

Playoff Fever!

To quote the great Terrell Owens….getchyer popcorn ready! No? A’right how about Michael Buffer…Let’s get ready to ruummmmbbbblleeeee! Still no? How about The Rock….can ya smeeelelelelelelelelelellllll whaaaaaat The Rock is cookin?? Damn right you can. MFL Playoff football baby!

First, hats off and big props to our Commish Drew Kuespert for putting countless hours in for this league we love. If ever need help, holla brotha! I can’t build a website, but I damn sure can track stats, and crunch numbers!

Secondly, thanks to Miami for being a gracious host city for the last 8 years. We fell short this year, but we will always be a Champion there. The time has come to put our own stamp on this club, and not living the dream of someone else. Gatlinburg is a very cool, relaxing, and special place to me and I’m happy to call it home for our club! I’m looking forward to bringing many a championships to the Smokey Mountains! Miami, I will forever be grateful…Thank-you!

Now where were we? Playoffs…1 word….DAMN! This is set up to be one of the most potentially explosive playoff/championship runs in the history of the MFL! Every single team has reached “Max Q” at the right time minus D.C. Sadly D.C. took a 1-2 right to the chin last week. It put em on the ropes and then the New York Lynx showed no mercy and laid the proverbial haymaker on the chin knocking them out cold! Can D.C. rebound? Orlando with new owner/coach Trent Richar….I mean Lewis took a stagnant team and propelled them to the top spot. Kudos to Orlando. Only question going into this weekend….How bad will dropping Knowshon Moreno bite them in the ass? Chicago Ravens….could this be the year? Kaepernick or Big Ben? Who is the championship caliber QB? Lastly, how many times do we really have to watch Dion Mawhorter fall into a huge, heaping pile of horse shit to come out with a sparkling smile like he is doing an Orbit chewing gum commercial? Enough already with your freaky Jehovah Witness like premonitions on when to dump a player and when to ride a player…I’m not mad, just jealous….hook a brotha up!

#1 vs #4 Orlando vs New York

QB – Epic Battle: Master versus Master. How in the hell do you pick? Brees or Manning. Manning is going after Brady’s record at home plain and simple. Anyone remember week 1 with 7 tds? Advantage: New York.

RB – Ridley has fumblitis. CJ is no longer 2K. Forte has been getting work, and is threat every time. Jackson has the atrocious Redskins D to face. Advantage: Orlando

WR - AJ Green and D Thomas are a push if you ask me. I’d love to have either one my roster. Alshon has a nose for the end zone. Advantage: New York

TE – Once again Dion trades a super star and comes up smelling like roses with that shit eating grin. Gonzo is banged up a bit. However, I’ll take a banged up All Pro any day. Advantage: Orlando

PK – 64 yarder….NFL record holder…Prater is a stone cold kicker. Advantage: New York

D/ST – Both are stout. KC tends to find the end zone more. However, both could and can kill at will. Advantage: Push

This could be a shoot out to the end. Both teams stack well against one another. I just can’t bet against what Manning/Thomas/Prater are doing right now. If, and that’s a mighty big if Denver even hiccups slightly, Orlando rolls. I don’t think they do though. Nice inaugural season for Trent and Orlando. New York 34 Orlando 31

#2 and #3 Chicago vs D.C.

QB – I know Bonk has wanted to ride Kaepernick all the way to the Championship. However, if he does, he’ll be watching the show at home with the rest of us common folk (Not really, just not sold on Kaep). Big Ben at home…division rival…double down on it. But D.C. has young gun Stafford who is wanting to get the turd taste out of his mouth after last week. Prime time…Megatron…always a sucker for Monday night games. Advantage: D.C.

RB – This WAS going to be an epic battle. All Day going toe to toe with Charles…till All Day went down. If All Day is out for injury this isn’t even close. Advantage: Chicago

WR – I think Marshall grabs the attention of Hayden, and Old Man Smith….ice up son! Depending on what D.C. does it could tilt. Currently it swings to Chicago, if a line-up change is made it could swing to D.C. Advantage: Push

TE – Gronk….damn. Bad enough D.C. has 1 stud hurt, but another out. I’d like to see Fauria do that funky white boy dance…but Vernon still has visions of Singletary dropping trou on him and is getting it done! Advantage: Chicago

PK – Literally 1 and 2 here. I love both of these kickers. Gimme Ski on the road in Miami over Haus in cold NY. Advantage: Chicago

D/ST – D.C. is licking its chops that his Defense is facing Geno Smith. If any Defense scores it’ll be Carolina. Advantage: D.C.

Sadly the MFL is not like the NFL in where Defenses win Championships. D.C. got hit with a couple of huge blows with injuries. However, Peterson isn’t human and wouldn’t be surprised to see him suit up after all. But Chicago is too much. Hopefully it will remain a close one, but it could get ugly and quick. Chicago 37 D.C.28

Looks like I have predicted a #2 Chicago vs #4 New York Super Bowl. This could potentially be the highest scoring championship game in history, or it could all be for naught if Orlando and or D.C. has anything to say about it. Regardless, good luck to all the clubs playing this weekend.

I’ll be back next week with my Super Bowl prediction.


Mr. W

Tuesday, July 9

Back to the Future

Hoping everyone had an enjoyable 4th of July. Even though some say the actual Declaration of Independence was signed a month later. August 2 1776. Gasp! Is it true? Could it really be? Perhaps we can yell “GREAT SCOTT” and good ole Doc Brown will show up in the kick ass DeLorean with the flux capacitor and cue up some Huey Lewis and the News song Back In Time while we hit 88 mph and go back in time and see if we can un Biff what we’ve done. Layman terms….who made a bonehead move that altered the MFL as we know it…or their team anyways.

Battle Mountain: Set the space time continuum to 8/5/2007: Trading MJD for Colston and Chester Taylor. As Nate “Purple Pimp” Russo said once upon a time…I love me some Chester Taylor…yeh not so much. If MJD stayed put…would they still be in Arkdale? But now MJD is back and Cam is now in question.

Canton: Set the space time continuum to 8/13/2006: Firing Head Coach Dave Wills. Actually trading all picks away and selecting with only pick in the 4th round Brodie Croyle or Drafting Daniel Thomas in the first round in 2012.

Chicago: Set the space time continuum to 8/16/06: L.T. for Rudi Johnson. Not that Rudy.

D.C. I cry uncle on this one. James Bruney has done more moves then I can even try to keep track of. Nothing jumps out at me at this very momen….Hey wait a sec. Set the space time continuum to 8/22/10: D.C. not going for it in the second round with the 19th pick…Arian Foster.

Dowagiac: Set the space time continuum to 8/20/2008: Traded away Frank Gore for Ryan Grant

Flint? FortWayne? Iowa?: Once they decide to stay put for more than 4 years perhaps then we can figure it out. Iowa Hawgs…Trading Roy Williams away for the #3 pick to lose it to Dowagiac due to paying L.T. 9 million 2 picks earlier. Fort Wayne: Moved there. Should have stayed in Iowa. Flint: I thought Fort Wayne was bad….

Miami: Set the space time continuum to 8/21/2007: Pulling a Ditka for Marvin Harrison. Got hurt and scored (1) touchdown that year. Cutting Rob Gronkowski (WTF!?!?)

Missouri: Set the space time continuum to 8/16/2009: Thinking Tom Brandstater was the next Peyton Manning.

N.Y.: Set the space time continuum to current time: You traded Arian Foster AND Tom Brady away….

Orlando: Set the space time continuum to 8/16/2009: Paying 6 Million Dollars for a 2nd round pick by the name Derrick Ward.

Pittsburgh: Set the space time continuum to 10/12/2007: Trading Peyton Manning for Vince Young. There was other fodder in there but that was the just of it. I know cap came into play, but really? Seriously, let’s not pussy foot around. Trading for Aaron Hernandez. Too soon? Honestly, it’s just shitty luck is all it comes down to. However, if this goes down the way it’s going…

South Bend: Set the space time continuum to 1/2/2010: Adrian Peterson wins Super Bowl MVP and gets rewarded by a trade.

There will always be something we wish we could go back and change, or re-do. However, only thing anyone can really do is just press on. Which makes this time of year exciting for the MFL.

Who is going to cut who to get under cap, or make roster space. I know Dr.K, Purple Pimp, and Yung Trifler will all be putting out blogs here soon with thoughts and projections on potential moves. So I will throw mine into the ring just a wee early this year.

Cap/Roster moves:

Battle Mountain: No draft picks available, so he might be willing to wheel and deal. After landing a table of Running Backs I believe Josh Stuckey is quite content and ready for the season to commence.

Canton: Cap, cap, cap. He needs some cap. Cam or Shady? Cut or trade? Is anyone willing to eat those kind of numbers should Jones decides to move one or both? He has the 3rd pick…will he trade it for next year?

Chicago: I think Big Ben, Michael Bush, and Blackmon get sent packing via cut or trade freeing up another 8.6 mil in cap giving Chicago 12 Million coming into the draft. Chicago is going to be a force to reckon with.

D.C. He won’t cut Adrian Peterson. However, a trade could happen. Too many picks to not free up some cap. Stafford? Murray? Murray gets hurt too much. Adios Muchacho. More trades coming….just wait.

Dowagiac: Shonn Greene and Vincent Jackson frees up a lot and give Dog Patch 16 Million swinging into the draft. 8 picks, 6 in the first two rounds. Space is needed. Best, Fitzpatrick perhaps a D/ST or both. Dowagiac will be a whole new team after the draft….literally!

Flint: None, he has money, and space already. Jon is just waiting for the draft to get here. Never mind that Brady owns 46% of the overall cap.

Miami: Has cash, no room. Josh Gordon suspended (2) games….Greg Jennings went from a QB Hero to a QB Zero…

Missouri: Same boat as Flint. Space and cap not an issue.

New York: Leadership feels every player is a top 10 player and won’t trade. But they don’t pick till round 3. So Alex Green and Jon Baldwin should get the boot at the very least. Not sure what this club will do though.

Orlando: Beanie Wells isn’t even signed, so that frees up a quick 5 mil. See Flint and Missouri.

Pittsburgh: What’s the Purple Pimp have up his sleeve? Mike Wallace? David Wilson? Ryan Mathews? Those alone free up 10 million in precious cap. They as New York don’t pick till the 3rd. Are they content, or going to make a move?

South Bend: I could see Fleener getting the axe. But money to burn and space to use. See Orlando, Missouri, Flint.

My plutonium levels are critical. Gotta go. See everyone on the 25th of August.


Mr. W

Thursday, December 13

It's the most wonderful time of the year...

Ahhhh! I love this time of year….No not Christmas silly kids, the MFL Playoffs! James Bruney and the D.C. Dinos did exactly what I said they would at the beginning of the year…be the Wild Card team. I also said Canton and Battle Mountain would win. Oops, win some lose some. However, let me say congrats to James on his first playoff appearance, and may it be short lived since we’re facing off!! Interesting note….3 of the 4 teams in the show are expansion teams….has the revolution in the MFL started already?

Ok let’s see who is who and what is what. David –vs- Goliath. New York looking Flint down as a mere speed bump in their quest to repeat! Once McGahee went down, I literally thought it was lights out for them. However, they caught lightning in a bottle with Bryce Brown. BUT…Arian Foster has been the epitome of consistency and is hands down MVP of the 2012 MFL. But let’s break it down and project who I think is going to move onto the Big Show.

QB: Brady against Brees. Elite versus Elite. As we all know it comes down to match ups. Brees is facing Tampa Bay. Great Defense against run….putrid against pass. Brady is facing the 49ers…solid D/ST all around. Hard call but I do like one slightly better. Advantage: NEW YORK….at night….outside….Foxboro…like Kool Aid says….OHHH YEEEAAAAAH!!! Boi – Shout out to Trif…RIP my man! As much as I hate Brady, I gotta give the man props.

RB: Foster/Ridley/Gore/LawFirm versus Leshoure/Brown/Hardesty/Harper. Why did I type all that out, Foster and Houston are pissed after an embarrassing loss to New England, Colts talking smack about an upset. Advantage: NEW YORK – Foster shuts everyone up and scores multiple times.

WR: Crabtree and James ‘JJ’ Jones against…Bowe..he’s out ummm Hill he’s hurt…Titus…he’s out too…WTF is going on in New York with no one to play WR? Advantage: FLINT

TE: Everyone thought Gronk would be the deciding factor. Not so fast my friend. Dreessen is no Gronk. However, neither is Owen Daniels. Push comes to shove, I’ll go with OD. Advantage: FLINT

D/ST: It is the Holiday season and Denver just so happens to have a Holliday who runs a 4.34 in the forty. It’s about points, not shut outs. Advanatge: FLINT

PK: Both of New York kickers Prater/Akers could be facing cold and weather. Where Flints Sea Bass and Hanson not so much. I think SeaBass could be in for a big game! Advantage FLINT

There is my take on who I think has the positional advantages for the first set of games showing only on ESPN8 The Ocho! It’s going to be a complete shoot out. Literally the over/under is set at 70? I totally made that up…Any takers? I think New York wins it and defends Championship properly. Final: New York 40 Flint 37 – Game MVP Arian Foster

Probably the 2 biggest…no…for sure the 2 biggest trade hounds in the league face off for the second game on ESPN8 The Ocho. Neither one of the fellas are happy unless wheeling and dealing somehow. Rumor has it Miami already threw D.C. an offer…while the bodies are still warm! D.C. made a lot of good moves, and Miami “thought” it made good moves. D.C. getting the wild card out of the East shows he deserves to be here, and is looking at Miami as merely Hors d'oeuvres prior to the main course. Let’s break it down.

QB: Rodgers versus Stafford. Rodgers is currently playing like a MVP….most vulnerable player…3 TDs in 3 games…Russell Wilson looks kinda appealing right now. Stafford playing on the road against a good pass D…man it’s almost a wash. Only thing swaying this is Rodgers playing a true enemy and wanting to win on the road over puss Cutler and the whimpy Bears.. Advantage: MIAMI

RB: All-Day/C.J./Demarco/Turner – CJ0Ke/Run DMC/ummm that’s all there is. Miami was wanting All Day at the draft. However, D.C. had deeper pockets and it PAID! If CJ0Ke can’t get it going it’ll get ugly and fast….Like CJ2K used to be fast. Emphasizing used to be. Advantage: D.C.

WR: Decker/Cruz/Little/Hartline vs Wayne/Gordon/Jennings/Smith The one good thing Miami had was Dez Bryant and low and behold he got hurt…say it aint so. However, the remaining core isn’t to bad. I think Josh Gordon tips the scale here even over Cruz and that cool ass dance he has. Advantage: MIAMI

TE: When Gronk got hurt, Hernandez got healthy. Advantage: MIAMI

D/ST: Once upon a time the Giants D/ST can score at will. The end! Advantage: D.C.

PK: Could it come down to the PK? Tynes has been nailing it all year (7) double digit outings and could very well be another. Bailey not as many but kicking indoors as well. NYG are on a roll, Dallas is just good enough to move the ball into FG range. Advantage: MIAMI

This is going to be a close game providing Miami’s running game shows up. If they don’t it’ll get FUGLY quickly….Say it like Liam Neeson…QUICKLY! There’s no time! Ok, thanks I needed to do that and get it out of my system. We’re all going to be optimist and say everyone shows up for once and makes this the playoff game to watch! HAHAHAHA! Right! At the end of the day it’ll be ALL DAY, every day! Final: D.C. 43 Miami: 31 – Game MVP Adrian Peterson

It’ll be an Eastern Conference show down for the Super Bowl. More to come next week once it’s set in stone! But my prediction is New York taking on the D.C. Dinos in Super Bowl XV


Mr. W

Wednesday, November 21

Major Slackage...

It’s what I just told my man Trifler about me writing this year…However, Trif is alive and well just doing a million hours of community service for flashing at the Bed Bug Retirement home. Then…got another million hours tacked on after he got reported by some old wind bag who took offense at him merely trying to help these stinky, farty, grumpy old ass people out. Seems Trifler had a female alter ego who took over the flashing for him. Luckily she wasn’t bad looking…But while Trif was in the room with 2 WWII vets the chick decides to jump infront of the window, open up her trench coat and scream SUPER PU$$Y!!! The old gents didn’t hear and asked my man trif….ehhhhh whaddashesay? Trifler replied super pu$$y Sir….the old guy replied…I haven’t gotten it up in years….gimme the soup sonny boy!

Speaking of soup….what’s more fu*ked up then a soup sammich? Every player besides Arian Foster. Seriously no one and I mean no one has been consistent like him. Dion needs to make a sub and name it after him, then place it on the Wall of Fame in Scoobies! Guess the vegan diet worked for him (Foster). All veggies on wheat bread….instant winner!!! Let’s look at Canton. McCoy, Rice, nada! Bought him a first class seat to the post season…at home. However, we were tired of seeing him get his ass waxed in the Super Bowl every year. Now the bigger question is will he try to play spoiler….or lay it down for the top spot? Only time will tell and he has (2) other teams to beat out. Will Battle Mountain strike out to give DC the #1 or will Randy scrap everyones plans and get it? Curious to who will man up and who will be Super Pu$$y and quit.

Round Robins starting and it’s going to be a wild ride. New York is showing how to properly defend a Championship. Pittsburgh is telling the Lynx…not so fast my friend, we’re wanting back in the limelight. Miami is winning somehow, who knows how along with Flint and Chicago. Will it come down to the tie breaker again? Flint has the game up after beating Chicago in week 5; 26-10. Then the proverbial hemorrhoids…D.C. and Orlando and wayyyyyy off in the distance Mizzou and Dogpatch. Actually I had D.C. winning the wild card so I’m not overly surprised to see them in the hunt right now. Sadly DeMarco Murray will be the downfall for the Dinos, and Chick Hicks gets the new contract with Dinoco…time to lay off Nyquil and free cable with the Cars marathon I see.

Time is money and since Obama has been re-elected I have none of either. Just for you Bonk, sadly when the shiteth hit the faneth a mere told ya so won’t mean diddly squat. However, remember I was Anti-Obama before it was cool…Wonder why Michael Moore hasn’t made a movie about all the messed up things….adderall….medication…..back to Round Robin projections. Lookie it’s almost lunch time. Coffee….where the fu*k is my coffee…adderall…FML!

Round Robin Predictions:

East: New York

Central: Miami

West: Chicago….cake schedule coming up and Willis getting hurt killed Flint.

Wild Card: Pittsburgh

So….#1 Seed New York and #4 Seed Pittsburgh face off. Arian Foster plays Indy that week…New York goes back to the Super Bowl to defend

#2 Seed Miami and #3 Seed Chicago throw down. Chicago will be out for revenge after the beat down Miami gave them in Week 6; 43-17. McFadden and CJ2K finally do what they’re ‘spose to do. Miami goes to it’s first Super Bowl.

Super Bowl in Orlando #1 New York taking on #2 Miami

Let’s see how the Round Robin turns out and we’ll get more into it. But if D/ST wins Championships…Early favorite is New York to repeat!

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours!


Mr. W

Wednesday, August 22

2012 MFL Draft Preview: My Take

What’s better than sipping this dark roast from Starbucks this morning? Knowing the 2012 MFL Draft is days away. Tons of movement prior to Phase II lockdown, and while enjoying this dark roast reading the Penny Saver with Dr.K’s projections it has me thinking Mike Mayock possessed him while doing so. As always Mr.W is here to play devils advocate and let you know how it really should go down.

Missouri moved to get the top 2 spots. Ok…However, what is still blowing my mind is trading Matthew Freaking Stafford…If Dr.K thinks Josh Stuckey is mud in Nevada, I’d hate like hell to see what the great people of Missouri think of our beloved Doctor! Hello….you traded a top 5 QB for a ROOKIE?? Wake up the gimp! Put the rope in the yardarm, we bout to have us a lynchin’ boy!! Matthew Stafford is hot right now, like Megan Fox and Kate Upton getting it on hot! He (Stafford) has the single most dangerous weapon at his disposal in Megatron and you flushed it all away to party buck ass naked with Prince Harry in Vegas. What happens in Vegas….stays in Vegas. It’s fun while doing it, but regret it years down the road when running for public office. Even though Prince Harry might be hot in his soul less ginger kinda way, he is no match for above mentioned duo! If Dr.K wanted to throw the draft into a complete tail spin he would go RB/RB and watch the following clubs scramble! That would be freaking awesome…but sadly it wont happen. Or will it? Did I mention it would be freaking awesome?!?!?!?

Pick 3, I agree with completely! I can see Randy making a play for All Day here, and he has the pockets to do so. With this being said, do you honestly think yours truly is just going to throw the welcome mat out for All Day’s return to the Central? Ummm…no. We’ll be throwing dollar, dollar bills around like we’re in an Atlanta Strip club with Fiddy! Regardless All Day goes 3rd, UNLESS DUN DUN DUN! Randy shocks the masses and goes for a rookie himself. GASP! Who might that be? Peyton Manning is yesterday’s news, Andrew Luck is today’s news. Yup, even though he doesn’t need a QB I can see Randy making a move to snag the next elite QB if nothing else for trade bait with his other bevy of QBs.

Pittsburgh is looking at the handwriting on the wall and saying sh*t! Forte is loosing goal line touches to Bush, Greene is loosing goal line touches to Tebow (IT’S GONNA HAPPEN MARK IT!) and not sure what Marshawn is showing up if at all. Nate knows he could always bid on a vet QB if need be but he looks to shore up the RBs with a potential ROY candidate in Doug Martin. Blount is garbage and Martin is the breath of fresh air that is needed. He is sleek and sexy, where Blount is well…dead to me!!!

DC has quietly built a decent squad. Like it or not, they are going to give them fellas in the East some fits. Fits…Fits….Fitz….Fitzgerald….I like it, and so does James. Now providing Bonk or Stuckey doesn’t challenge him to 9 mil, I see Fitz in DC. However, James could trade this pick for 57 more picks over the next 8 years.

Chicago. If Bonk has a single cell in his brain, he will look at his so called running backs and pray to God no one challenges him when he selects Isaac Redman. He could look to one of the rookies but I think he wants to cement the Mendenhall handcuff. Now I hope I pissed Bonk off and does something completely different just to “show me”, but it’s the smartest move for him regardless if he admits it or not.

My arch rival nemesis Orlando can literally look at best player available….no he can’t, he needs another QB and here is where he lands potentially the future face of the franchise with Ryan Tannehill.

Jon Bruney has entered the witness protection program with as many times he has moved and changed his name. My man needs a WR and needs one BADLY!! Question is what rookie does he like better? Hmmm, he will be looking for instant results and Mr.W thinks Justin Blackmon does land in the first round.

Josh Stuckey is almost; ok he is probably a bigger homer for the Colts than I am. He would trade his first born to land Luck, but I don’t see it happening. So he does best next and secures his TE with Witten ailing and piling miles on like Jessica Simpson is baby weight. He gets the next Gronk…TE Coby Fleener. I know call me crazy, but I see it happening and y’all do too when it comes right down to it.

Canton…they added what they felt was the last piece of the puzzle to get ‘em over the hump and finally WIN the big one. They are solid all around but thin in the skin at RB. Canton adds some much needed depth and select David Wilson.

Last bust not least again…South Bend…Notre Dame…speaking of homers…Michael Floyd comes home to South Bend to light it up again for years to come!

The three left out in the cold New York, Dowagiac and Miami…they will make some challenges and try to cause chaos. More Dog Patch and Miami since New York is broke…literally!

MO: RB Trent Richardson (R), CLE
MO: QB Robert Griffin III, (R), WAS
SB: RB Adrian Peterson, MIN
SB: QB Andrew Luck (R), IND
PIT: RB Doug Martin (R), TB
DC: WR Larry Fitzgerald, AZ
CHI: RB Isaac Redman, PIT
ORL: QB Peyton Manning, DEN
FLT: WR Justin Blackmon (R), JAX
BM: TE Coby Fleener (R), IND
CAN: RB David Wilson (R), NYG
SB: WR Michael Floyd (R), AZ


Mr. W

Friday, October 7

Quarter Pounding

The season is ¼ of the way over and we have some pretty heated races going on in the league. We still have two undefeated teams at 4 and Oh….we’re undefeated woohoo, and three team at 3 and 1. Then we have the battle of the winless that are Oh-fer…and never mind.

So…with a season a quarter of the way cashed, let’s take a brief look at what I feel are the current power rankings in the league.

  1. Canton Cougars. It literally is a coin flip with Orlando, I just like some of the personnel better on Canton. No it’s not, Megatron is a freaking beast!!
  2. Orlando Oracles: MVP is the Defense! Respecting the 4-0 mark for 2nd slot.
  3. Missouri Peregrines: Division leader gets respect from Mr.W. God forbid his backfield takes off. If they do…get the hell outta the way!
  4. Miami Mafia: Hard not to keep a nervous eye on the schedule for a team averaging 36.75 pts a game. But it seems like it is boom or bust. What is the real team? Week one which got 15 pts against Orlando, or Week 4 which dropped 51?
  5. Ft. Wayne Freedom: If not for Orlando’s D/ST scoring twice…Solid Club right here!!
  6. New York Lynx: Injuries have bitten them early. If they can stay healthy they can make a late run to post season again!
  7. Chicago Ravens: Points and more points. Tolbert was his saving grace last year. He might be the fall from grace for them this year.
  8. Pittsburgh Spears: Who woulda thought Eli was going to be the bread winner?
  9. Arkdale Aardvarks: Cam Newton is ROY hands down. This club is going places and the Western Division is here by put on notice for next year!
  10. Dowagiac Chefs: If Felix and Mathews can stay healthy and get it going, the wins will come.
  11. D.C. Dinosaurs: The talent is here, just not producing.
  12. South Bend Scraps: Paging Peyton Hillis….Peyton Hillis PLEASE answer the white courtesy phone…Peyton Hillis….your needed on the field!!

Will be back with a midway report after week 8. Stay classy MFL!!


Mr. W

Tuesday, July 19

An Early Look at 2011

It is appearing the lock-out is coming to an end, and it is appearing we are going to have an actual season. I think most MFL owners/coaches are seeing the same thing with the bombardment of trades this month. Nothing makes Mr.W more happy than seeing active owners willing (as MFL Lockdown likes to state “Shake the MFL World”) and able to make moves and keep people interested. Miami is facing stiff competition in the shake and bake department with the D.C. Dinos. Speaking of these two teams they had probably the biggest headline move of the summer so far. Only thing that would trump that is if conservative Drew Kuespert decides to pull the trigger on dealing A.P. But my sources inside say that is not happening and A.P. will be donning the Brown and Gold one more year. Can’t say I blame Dr.K on this one! OR…POSSIBLE SPOILER ALERT...Drew Brees getting cut in a Cap Casualty when Pittsbugh can’t find any takers for him in a last minute trade attempt.

Do you know who is #WINNING besides Charlie Sheen? That’s right the Pittsburgh Spears. MFL Champs once again! Even facing a tough opponent with the South Bend/Iraq/Wherever the hell they decide they want to play this year Scraps in the Super Bowl they got ‘er done!. Do you know what separates these two teams besides 1 point in the Championship Game? 2 million in cap space and 1 ring. Both clubs must have something up their sleeve with the MFL Draft rapidly approaching and literally strapped for cash. I know the Purple Pimp loves to make it rain at Showgirls III in the Fort to the Wayne HEEEEYYY! HOOOO! Whose down with O.P.P?? Yeah you know me, The Purple Muthaf*kin P! But with only half a mil, a move has to be done. Does he make a last minute cut to free up ohhhh let’s take a guess with approximately $10,351,411 dollars. Sounds like a good round even number, not trying to pin point one person, cause that would be profiling and profiling is wrong.

I have just hit some serious writers block for some reason. Kinda like the block the Lynx have from making the Super Bowl. Got the thoughts, have the ideas, just can’t get it done. Now don’t get me wrong Mr. W loves him some New York Lynx and have projected them to win it all every pre-season to only be let down like all of America was in hearing the Casey Anthony verdict! So once again I’m going to predict the New York Lynx win it all. I HAVE to be right one these years…I think!

So Miami traded away Michael Turner? Most analyst on ESPN The Ocho ‘8’ said it was a great move for D.C.; which for this year it was. However, yours truly thinks Miami was looking down the road a little bit further and seen the flashing lights and got rid of Turner the Burner at the right time. Still a little bit of gas left in the tank, but with the mileage piling on him faster than the Bang Bus, his warranty has expired and has lost that new car smell. He is bought, and paid for which is nice, just no reassurance when he breaks down and leaves you stranded in the hills of Alabama with banjo music playing. It’s a scary place. So this leads me to who in the hell is

Miami going to pick number one? Canton has two picks! Will Arkdale show up to the draft to make that 5th round pick and let the MFL know they are here and no ones bi*ch? Here is a break down to what Mr. W thinks should happen if teams draft for what they need and not who they want.

12th pick in the first round: Pittsbugh: Depending on what they do with that completely random number I picked, it really is difficult to say what the Purple Pimp will do here. So for the sake of moving on they select for cheap: L.T.

11th Pick: Chicago Ravens: Going after some reassurance in the WR Dept. Ravens go with Larry Fitzgerald. Fitz will get his number regardless who is tossing him the rock.

10th Pick: New York Lynx are looking for a future stud WR and land A.J. Green here to place the final piece of the puzzle.

9th Pick: The Scraps will dump that train wreck Knowshon! They select Roy Helu for some insurance to The Madden 2012 Cover and The Law Office.

8th Pick: Canton: Second pick in the first round…Canton goes with it’s second rookie RB and selects stud Ryan Williams while muttering Beanie Wells and Tim Hightower fu*king SUCK!.

7th Pick: D.C. got their man Turner via trade and now look at beefing up the QB Corps here. If things pan out and Kevin Kolb ends up in Arizona like most are projecting….he plays for D.C. this year

6th Pick: Dowagiac: The Chefs kick bust C.J. Spiller to the curb, and maybe, possibly Joey Addai. They want someone who can play now. With Marion Barber headed outta Dallas, Felix Jones starts for the Orange Crush!

5th Pick: Canton is in disbelief this gift has fallen to 5th place and immediately snag what could have been over all number 1 pick Daniel Thomas!

4th Pick: The second pick for the Mafia look to shore up the WRs and go with future NFL Star Julio Jones! Wonder if Miami is kicking itself in the ass for trading Matt Ryan now. Perhaps another trade with Canton in the making here…

3rd Pick: Orlando: Let’s be real here….they need a QB more than Octo-Mom needs another kid or Obama needing another term! That’s right I went there!! Don’t like it?? Tough Sh*t!! Call George Soros, and Media Matters along with Huff Po for all I care cause they are the only ones who care here!! Now let me clear my throat after that sudden turrets outburst. Cam Newton falls nicely to them. I bet 20 bucks Jeremy Bonk is shaking his head calling me a GWB loving commie now HAHAHA!! Nothing but love bruh, but you would be correct in your statement.

2nd Pick: Fort Wayne laughs in his brother James face saying Jahvid WHO? Going with who WILL be the starter in Detriot….Mikel LeShoure! SUUUUUEEEEEEEYYYYY….Oh wait…wrong team…Que up George Michael Careless Whisper…NOOOooooo…FREEDOM….FREEDOM…..YOU’VE GOTTA GIVE WHAT YA TAKE!!

1st Pick: Miami is looking to replace the void from Michael Turner and feels Mark Ingram will do just that! Too much talent and upside to pass up!

Right, wrong, or indifferent this is how I’m seeing the first round going down. Hopefully I have hit closer to home than most will admit and have them scrambling to change up their list. However, there is one possible and one possibly not really possible action that could flip this whole list upside down. 1. Pittsburgh let’s Drew Brees go to try and get back cheaper or go in a different direction, and 2. Missouri SHOCKS the MFL world and cuts A.P. I doubt the second will happen, but this is the MFL! I do think the Free Agency pool is going to get some added names prior to the MFL draft like, C.J. Spiller, Donald Brown, Jeremy Shockey, Ryan Grant, Joseph Addai, and Knowshon Moreno.

Some gee whiz off the cuff projections:

Most Rushing TDs: A.P., 14

Most Passing TDs: Drew Brees, 36

Most Rec TDs: Andre Johnson, 11

Highest Kicker: Stephen Gostkowski, 138

Winner of the East: New York

Winner of the West: Chicago

Winner of the Central: Miami (duh, regardless if South Bend is gonna win again)

Wildcard Winner: Canton

MFL Champs: New York Lynx

That’s it for now you silly kids! See everyone there besides Randy on the 21st at Buffalo Wild Wings in Angola for the MFL Draft!


Mr. W

Wednesday, September 8

My 2010 Season Preview

Putting a dollar in the juke box in this Cuban Café here in South Beach/Little Havana everyone is looking at me like I have a bad case of herpes all over my face as Hank Williams Jr. starts blaring…ARE YOU READY FOR SOME FOOTBALL?!?!? I figure if I have to listen to LA BAMBA with the it as loud as a KISS concert, as lil ole HWJR wont hurt em…or me hopefully.

Anyways now that my song has completed and imminent danger has passed, I’m looking over the divisions. We have some rock em sock em knock em down fighting to the death matches going on. This is going to be an exciting end of year leading to the round robin with numerous teams still being in the hunt.

The East is literally a coin flip. Canton and New York are going to be going back and forth all season long. Only thing is IF…Canton takes a blow…and not from the toothless tranny behind the 331 bar Jones hangs out at, but at the RB position he will be begging that tranny to blow him to forget about his season going down the crapper. Jones traded the farm away for D/ST and PK. Mind you he got the best PK in the league but it left him thin in the skin at RB. If they stay healthy which we all need to assume, he will win the East. However, if not Dion “Scooby-Snack” Mawhorter will take it. Purple Pimp in Pittsburgh has enough up his sleeve to ensure he doesn’t finish in the basement, we will find out if Drew Brees is worth 8 million or if Nate will personally put a bullet in his melon. D.C. no disrespect but it is one bitch of a division you are in. Sad fact is Whomever finishes last in the East like Dr.K stated very well may do so even or with a winning record. My order of finish:

  1. Canton
  2. New York
  3. Pittsburgh
  4. D.C.

The West…Missouri. Thank-you and Good-Night! Don’t forget to tip your waiting staff, I’ll be here every week till December!

Seriously, they have CJ and AP? That is going to be a tough bill to beat. However like Canton, thin in the skin if injury hits. Chicago is nippin on his heels with voodoo dolls of both and praying like a guilty priest one or both sprain an ankle knocking them out for lets say uhhhhh forever. Tim Swagger is back in the league, and have not met him yet, however Welcome Back! Arkdale is swinging in the right direction and will keep things interesting in the West. The Peyton Manning Freedom just doesn’t have enough horsey’s in the barn. I’m afraid it is going to be a long year in the Fort. My order of finish:

  1. Missouri
  2. Chicago
  3. Arkdale
  4. Fort Wayne

The Central. The Red-Headed Step-Children! No one likes us, everyone disrespects us, and everyone thinks they can just walk into the Central and kick ass and take names. Not so fast slick. The reigning Champs reside here and will tell you to bring it on. Dowagiac and Orlando will tell you the same thing. Trust me on this, do not look at Orlando as an auto win. That team is capable of dropping 35 on you at any given time. Just as yours truly (2 times). However, facts are facts. Randy traded away the Championship player and not sure if NO-Show…I mean Knowshon can carry them like All-Day did. Why did Spiller end up in Buffalo? So much talent that could potentially be wasted away! However, if Buffalo can utilize him like he is capable, we could be seeing Rookie MVP here. Orlando had a decent draft bringing in QB and RB who will be instant starters and putting points up. Miami is riding the Rodgers/Turner Express as far as it will take him, which will be to the top. My order of finish:

  1. Miami
  2. Dowagiac
  3. South Bend
  4. Orlando

So we have, Canton, Missouri, and Miami winning the Divisions. My wild card goes to New York. After the Dust settles, Miami and Missouri go to the game, with Miami winning it all. HEY!!! It’s my blog, my team and if you don’t like it write your own damn blog :-) Actually let’s re-address this come week 6/7 and see where we stand.

That’s how I see the season unfolding. But we all know how wrong I have been in the past. But since I have your attention still, lets peek at week one.

Game of the week: PARVO BOWL! I know I have Canton winning the East, however, New York makes that journey a little more difficult after it beats Canton.

  • New York 34, Canton 33
  • Spears 29, Dinos 26
  • Chefs 21, Oracles 18
  • Ravens 24, Freedom 17
  • Grines 37, Varks 22
  • Mafia 34, Scraps 26

Here is to a great year! Will see all of you on the field. Do your homework, work the wavier wires because yours truly will be doing so daily...


Mr. W

Friday, August 20

A last minute look at the MFL Draft

Days before the MFL draft I find myself drawn Northern bound with the top down taking my sweet time cruising down the A1A to the lovely booming metropolis of Angola, Indiana. Mr. Telephone man….somethings wrong with my line….everytime I call my Commish…I get a click everytime…Love that New Edition song, but pisses me off that I now know Drew has been figgin hanging up on me. Anyways, back to the present, while driving looking at the bevy of Cougars lined up at the Bingo Halls, I wonder how much trouble the Purple Pimp would get into down here, and wonder if the upcoming draft is going to be more trouble for him.

We have a TON of talent and feel this is going to be one of the best drafts perhaps I will be involved with. We have quite a few teams that have a ton of cash and a big ass bat walking into the draft and then we have some with not as a much cash and praying no one turns into a douche and over bids them to the point they can’t get the man they want. BWAHAHAHAHA! Yup, I am exactly that douche to do it! I have roster spots and cash. So fair warning Gents, pay over the limit and Moi, will be waiting to scoop up the waiver wires like I do every year. So beware bitches I will over bid your man and show him what a real team will do for him.

So let me give you a quick post of what I think the first round of the draft will go down without giving the keys to the store away.

  1. Arkdale: No brainer, unless they trade this pick away (Brady)…Peyton Manning. Coach Stuckey has the biggest man crush and like Jim Irsay has no problem making him the highest paid player in the league.
  2. Dowagiac: I want to go on the record to knock Coach Bock right now….I think he is a dummy face for picking: Ryan Matthews. Rookie of the Year and will be a productive member of the Chefs for years to come. Finally Bock and the Chefs have their Franchise Player.
  3. Fort Wayne: Freeeeedoooooom……Frrrreeeeedoooooommmmmm…..ya gotta give whatcha take. Who doesn’t like a good Georgie Michael song. Drew… don’t have the bag if you don’t play this song when Jon is up to pick! Oh, Fort Wayne takes Jahvid Best.
  4. Orlando: Just think if they would have kept Eli Manning and not drafted Ward for a bazillion dollars they could have gone with a rookie stud RB. However, since Eli is now forever lost on the Pimps bench the Orlando goes with Kevin “Corn on the” Kolb.
  5. D.C. The other newbie team. This is James first of like 432 picks today. He is needing some RB help and will look for Joseph Addai in a contract year to put up stellar numbers.
  6. Chicago: Bonk needs WR help. He will chitting the gold brick hoping his pick doesn’t get over bid here. However, I think Larry Fitzgerald lands in Raven Purple.
  7. Pittsburgh: Another team strapped for the cashola in a bad way. I really thought Big Ben was gonna be a cap casualty, shows you how much I know. Providing the Pimp also doesn’t trade down to help save on cash, I can see RB C.J. Spiller land in Pimptastic land.
  8. Canton: Any and all WR’s apply here. Canton has CASH and is not afraid to spend it. Welcome to Canton future MFL Hall o Fame’er Randy Moss! He wants to play for a contender and Canton has been that team for years. Look for Randy to put up SICK numbers in Ohio this year!
  9. NY: Some interesting moves, and is in the market to move Brady. At press time Brady is still in New York, and Dion….I don’t blame you wanting to trade him with his Bieber Fever haircut. But Ryan Grant is the man for them.
  10. MO: Can go numerous ways here. The two WR’s he wanted are gone. He does need another QB and the 40 year old virgin is out there. Papa Favre makes a final run with the Grines.
  11. Miami: Needs help all around after trading away AGAIN! Biggest need is WR, Miami looks to Dez Bryant and hopes all the hype pans out.
  12. D.C.: Proving James doesn’t trade down, I can see Pierre Thomas landing here shoring up the RB corp.

Well my fellow lovers of fantasy football, sleep with one eye open till Sunday, cause Mr.W is ready to create CHAOS!!!!

See you guys Sunday!!!


Mr. W

Friday, July 16

Need A Fix!

After being on a binge for the last 8 months, it is time to start a I.V. with premium Starbucks Extra Bold with additional shots of espresso to get into my alcohol stream and turn it into my caffine stream with a splash of blood in it. What’s my point….MFL BABY! It is right around the corner and it is time to get yo’ head into the game! We about 5 weeks to the MFL draft and looking at the league pre-draft….things look pretty good. But then again look at this group and pretty good is about as good as it is gonna be.

The Hawgs were abolished and now the Freedom Fighters are here to save the day in the West. Since the West is brought up, lets gander at it a bit more. Mizzou…Can ya share some Running Backs. They have literally a 3 headed powerhouse in this department. Problem being…..who is gonna hand it off? Dr.K isn’t much of the trader and will be looking at QB as #1 priority in the draft. However…..will teams purposely gobble QB’s up as trade bait and force the Grines into trading? I do feel Dr.K would much rather run with a complete scrub at QB and any points from him be a bonus before he would even dream of breaking that RB core up. However, if the right trade offer would come along….Which brings me to the Ravens….of Chi’ Town. J-Bo loves trading and will not be surprised if J-Bo and Dr.K don’t enter some type of trade talk prior to the draft. Chicago has a solid team but has a few questions that need to be addressed like everyone’s weird uncle no one wants to talk about but has to. If you don’t know who he is, chances are you’re it. First off….Forte…which one shows up this year. With a new Offensive scheme in town for the Ravens Forte “might” show signs of what he did his rookie year. J-Stew, no one will be praying D-Will gets hurt more than J-Bo. Purple Pimp already has a voodoo doll with Bonk’s FACE on it for when it happens. Also Bonk, tell Smith to quit playing flag football will ya. Arkdale, good luck with 12 million dollar Manning. Yes, I am predicting Manning will set the MFL record for 1st round monies to be paid. Some teams have the core set, and massive amounts of cash to spend. So Pee Manning will go at a premium, if nothing else to make Arkdale pay thru the nose for him which we all know he will spend every last red cent on that man. However, Manning and Felix Jones will put some points up, but not enough with Chicago, and Mizzou in the mix. Look forward to Dr.K and The Ref trading words this season again while positing for top spot in the West.

The Eastern Division. Probably the “toughest” division in the league. Canton, Pittsburgh, and New York. 3 top teams bar none. However, we have the Dino’s in the mix. D.C. had an impressive Freshman showing. Not as impressive as yours truly, but 6 wins in a tough division with limited cap…kudos to you James. Purple Pimp, my man. I know Drew Brees is a stud no question. But is he worth a cool 8 mil? Does he become a cap casualty to make room for the draft, perhaps to get back at a more lesser price? NY, need a kicker my man. I know Folk was the man at one time, but that time has come to pass. Also, why do we as a league only pay our kickers minimums when they normally are the ones putting the most, or in my case the only points up. Just curious. Seriously, I know you have a stable of RB’s, but I really think you need to look at it closely and address it either trade, or draft. Call Dr.K he needs a QB! D.C. your not sitting to bad, plus having an extra 2.5 to play around with helps too. Canton, you’re the front runner at the moment. Matt Schaub is going to ride you to the promise land along with MJD.

Last but not least, the middle child no one pays attention to, or excessively picks on the Central Division. Got nothing but disrespected from EVERYONE last year. The gimme league. However, The Super Bowl Champs South Bend says….Huh? Not so fast phoo suckas! The Wild Cards of the league reside in the Central. Canton, Pitt, Mizzou, C hicago all now look at S.B. and Miami before thinking Super Bowl. Did S.B. throw the “key” to getting there in All Day away? Is Knowshon the replacement? I don’t think he is, but Randy is shifty and has a plan cooked up I am sure. Miami is not sitting too bad and literally could start the season right now with the roster they have. They are so close to making it they can taste it and Leadership within the Mafia are looking at what do we need to get us there. Given sometime, The Mafia will not have a single person on the roster it does now come season opener, or has Dave Wills learned a lesson… However, The Chefs will be looking at making noise also. Will Larry Fitz stay in Dogpatch for almost 7 mil or will he get cut or possibly traded for picks to start building up to be contenders again and not pretenders? Can Matt Leinart get Larry Fitz the rock? One of many big questions this year right now.

It’s still too early to tell, and am looking forward to the draft to see who does what. Once we do that, we can sit down and grade the draft and put out predictions. But here are some what the hell predictions.

Top QB – Peyton Manning. 35 TD’s, he is hungry after the loss to NO. However, Rodgers will be a close 2nd with 33 TD’s

Top RB – All Day 15 TD’s, however CJ ,Turner, and MJD will be on his heels with 13 each.

Top WR – Andre Johnson. Schaub has his workhorse and is gonna ride it. 12 TD’s from AJ. I think Megatron is gonna be a close second with 10 TD’s.

Top TE – Antonio who….not so fast young man, Dallas Clark tops with 12 TD’s.

Top PK – That Pollack from New England. 114 points.

Top D/ST – Who cares, I mean seriously……

I hope you sissies have been paying attention this off season. Or will you wait for Dr.K’s predictions to figure out what your going to do? I think Dr.K should scrap his draft predictions one year, just one and see who shows up prepared still. Just sayin….

See you chumps in a month or so. Until then, watch out teeth, watch gums, down the hatch, here it comes! SALUTE!


Mr. W

Tuesday, September 29

The Itch Can Be Scratched‏

Fighting a bad headache from the 1.99 bottle of plum flavored mad dog 20/20 I wake up this morning, place a strategically placed scratch to a particular itch, make some proverbial male sounds and grab my coffee and morning paper to start the day. It is a normal ho-hum chilly, rainy, Fall Tuesday morning where I can sit, enjoy my coffee and bitch about how dumb some of these MFL teams our. Nothing better than sitting back and telling all these dumb coaches how it should be done, and how much better lil ole me can do it while seeing the outcomes on Tuesday A.M. The first item that catches my eye is not the obvious, but the one of Canton dropping 54 points of knowledge on D.C.! Finally, a MFL coaching staff that nailed it’s line-up properly. Unlike the schlubs in Missouri who couldn’t hit a winning line-up if they purposely didn’t try to. Speaking of winless, who is the Detriot Lions this year….Ahhhh The Dogpatch Chefs, O’fer three. Hey…weren’t they slotted to win the weak Central division. I ponder on it for a moment and decide the male sounds are now frutating and head to the holy grail of grails the Man Throne! With paper in tow, I need to see what else has happened in the MFL this weekend. Did that douchebag in Miami loose it in the last seconds again? Did Iowa beat Chicago, how bad did Pittsburgh pummel Orlando. Poor bastards never had a chance with the way Drew Brees is playing. Anyways after strategically placing everything in its proper place I start searching for answers, and it hits me. Not the burrito supreme and cheap plum flavored wine from the previous night, but the final of the Spears-Oracles game. Damn good thing I was literally sitting down where I was because HOLY FRIGGIN COW!!!

I couldn’t have seen this correctly, I’m still asleep, this can’t be right. Sitting straight up and admiring my shit hickeys on my legs, I come to the conclusion, Orlando did the impossible. They defied the odds, gave everyone in the MFL, including yours truly, Dr. K, and the Purple Pimp the middle finger with gusto!! Orlando 3-0, Really….c’mon seriously! Reading the breakdown and seeing Drew Brees played more like Drew “6 million dollar man” Broke, DeAngelo had the goose egg, and the game more less was won by a kicker? Really….c’mon. But low and behold as the legs start going numb from reading the story, Orlando is 3-0. I would congratulate them but why? Miami tried to publicly congrat them on their very first win over them and were blown off. Have some class and at least acknowledge a compliment when given. So ya know what I think about Orlando at 3-0…whoopee friggin doo! Sometimes it is better to be lucky than good, That’s right, quote me…..”IT’S BETTER TO BE LUCKY THAN GOOD!” because even though 3-0 now, it is going to be short lived before re-matches happen and will be a different outcome second time around. I’m not bitter what so ever, I actually enjoyed seeing Orlando knock off Canton and Pittsburgh. I don’t feel like such a looser now, just the first looser hahaha! But second time around will have a different outcome. Mr. W is all about some sloppy seconds…that didn’t sound right. Speaking of Sloppy….How about some Slop….Sloppy….Sloppy Joes for dinner! Who the hell is Joe anyway. Why couldn’t it have been Sloppy Ed, or Sloppy John. Who the hell does Joe think he is anyways? Will be something for me to google later. Legs getting numb, must vacate Man Throne now!

After completing my transaction and getting the blood flowing back into my legs before I try to stand and fall flat on my face, I have come to the conclusion….The Central isn’t quite the sluffs everyone made them out to be. They currently are the only division with 3 teams with winning records. Even though the Pittsburgh game was a fluke, it is what it is. However Nate Russo will be doing 3 a days all week and have his team ready come Sunday for a BIG Eastern Divisional game with the NY Lynx. I almost feel sorry for the Lynx for what Pittsburgh is about to unload. Dowagiac….come on brother be the men of men and deal out the first loss and get that first win! What a sweet win it will be. Another thought hits me as wiping…I mean wrapping things up…When is the Brother Bowl of Iowa and DC? Week 9 at Iowa, need to see if stub hub has tix ready or not. Will be interesting to see what Bruney is top dog!. Gnarly dude!

Well my coffee is done, paper completely pillage thru, and it is time to be an adult again. But look for these wins in week 4. I like Pittsburgh over New York, Dowagiac over Orlando, South Bend over Chicago, Canton over Iowa, Missouri over Arkdale, and Miami over D.C.


Mr. W

Friday, July 24

Pre-draft Thoughts‏

Greeting from Cabo Wabo! Sammy Hagar is a god down here, and this tequila is top notch sh*t! It is so good it will make you want to smack your grand momma and go to church and ask for forgiveness on stuff you didn’t even do! But I pissed Sammy off getting totally plowed last night and jamming to Winger and Damn Yankees. Oopsie! At least it wasn’t David Lee Roth’s Yankee Rose or I’m Just a Gigolo. But then I could have been in the same town as the Purple Pimp. What color starts with G. The Green Gigolo? Sounds like a bad time after having the cream of sum yung guy entrée at City Wok Chinese restaurant. Think I will leave that alone and let the Purple Pimp hold claim to that one! Damn this tequila is the shizzernit! Where’s the Meth Head’s in Rebel Flag Bikini’s at when you need em?

Anyways, before I get too far into my month long bender here with all the delicious eye candy running around I thought I would plug one more out to get the blood flowing even more in the MFL.

This will not really do justice for the expansion teams, because they are well…expandable! No offense fellas, nothing you can do with a short stack of chips and playing with a stacked deck and crooked dealer. That’s just how the cookie crumbles. Or as the Mafia’s motto has been the last 3 years...Always Next Year! This is looking at the other 10 teams in the MFL and an unofficial ranking on positions. Who has the best pre-draft and will re-address post draft and see how it changed. Going to give you Mr. W’s opinion on every position and who has the best at this time.

QB: Tough call here. Due to injuries last year, one will not know if Palmer, or Brady are back to 100%. For the sake of argument let’s say they are. So with this being said one has to look at the Ravens. Palmer and McNabb. Could be a deadly duo here, and the driving force to get to the Championship. Also Pittsburgh. Big Ben and Brees. Does Brees ever slow down? 5,000 yards in a season?? Lastly one has to give a nod to the Lynx. Pop Warner and Tom Brady. I’m not a Brady fan whatsoever, however you have to respect him as a player. Warner had a MVP year last year and if Brady comes back slinging like a few years ago…

Advantage: NY Lynx. Boldin, Fitz, and Moss are to BIG of weapons not to respect.

RB: Once again the Ravens. Forte, Portis, and Stewart. DAMN! Never mind Turner or Peterson, or who ever lands L.T. I think Chicago has the point here and it has been made.

Advantage: Chicago Ravens

WR: Mizzou has a solid trio in Moss, Whooseyourmomma, and Braylon if he can shake the drops from last year. Miami has a respectable trio in Jennings, Colston, and yes Ochocinco. I think Palmer and Ocho hook up for one last great year and we will see Ocho donning the Future HOF’er coat on the sidelines again this year. Pittsburgh with Wayne, Johnson, and Roddy “c’mon down” White. Matt Ryan is going to be a stud and make White look even better! Flip a coin seriously.

Advantage: Miami….reason being is I like who is slinging the ball to all 3, and with questions of who is slinging it to Braylon and Andre respectively I nod Miami here.

TE: Miami with Olsen and now Shockey. With the addition of Cutler Olsen’s stock shoots thru the roof. Pittsburgh with Gates and Vernon. Singletary is going to make Vernon a great player and one he is capable of being. Mizzou has a deadly 3 headed TE corps. But since one of them had to hang their junk out on National T.V. that is worthy enough for me.

Advantage: Mizzou

PK: Super Bowl game MVP….’nuff said!

Advantage: Mizzou

D/STs: Who is going to be the dream team this year? Minnesota like 2 years ago who could score at will. Green Bay who put 6 million points up last year? D/STs is like finding a 20 dollar bill in a winter coat you forgot about. It was there the whole time, you just never know it till you find it.

Advantage: No one

So right now as it looks to me, it could really be anyone’s year pre-draft. Mizzou and Miami need QB help BIG TIME! Romo and Rodgers very well may the starter(s) for the entire year. Hell right now them two douche’s are the ONLY QB’s on their teams. However, they will need help and ummm…they don’t have any. Good Luck in finding one with 12 teams now. Shaun Hill and C-Pep aren’t looking so bad now huh lol. We aren’t quite laughing now, but last year this would have been an absolute joke. Now it is like ummm seriously, I want… NO… I NEED Shaun freaking Hill!

Anyways, the sun is getting hotter, and the clothes on these hoola girls are getting scarce. Looks like it is time for me to put into play page 69 from The Pimps book, “How to be a Pimp” and do just that. See all you fellas on the 16th, hopefully I will be dried out and clear minded by then. If not, it won’t be the first time sipping water and hung over in Church!


Mr. W

Monday, July 20

2009 is here!


2009 is here, the draft is a month away and it’s time for me to get with the program finally. If I keep going I’m going to have 14 draft picks and 3 available roster spots. Speaking of spots, I noticed I have this spot in my upper inner thigh…wrong forum, sorry folks. Thought this was the I-overdosed-on-tequila-and-did-something-I-shouldn’t-have blog.

Anyways, welcome to MFL 2009 and the (2) new expansion teams. I remember many moons ago when Drew Kuespert called me up and gave me the then-Miami Porpi post-draft with not a soul on it. So, Orlando and D.C., you are 3 steps ahead of where I was years ago, and best of luck to you. James Bruney...I like what your doing. Mr. W enjoys seeing an active owner who is always working to better his team! Anyways, this league has been great, even though I can’t say I’m real hip on the whole draft lottery thing. It seems like the people who don’t like it can’t win the Super Bowl to vote it out. Even when Chicago thought he had it, there was The Commish telling him 'according to the rules, #12, subline Z, paragraph blah, blah, blah…you lost and Mizzou actually gets to go. Once again, he got Bonked. Thanks for eternally pissin' the Commish off, Bonk, and this goofy ass lottery!

But, I like how teams are shaping up and I'm curious to see what team is going to make pre-draft cuts to roll into Fremont with a new face and ready to roll. There are some WTF are you doing with him still? thoughts out there. First…Dowagiac. Ryan Grant 6.6 million…WTF are doing with him still? Cut bait and get into the L.T. sweepstakes. Larry Fitz isn’t quite as WTF, but it is salty for a WR. Cut him and go get your premier back with the Numero Uno. But, if you do decide to keep Larry Fitz…can't say I blame ya. Cut Ryan, and we’ll have a smoke and hint around on the church steps on what we’re going to do, while Bruney is trying to peddle off Brian Griese as the MVP of the league and demanding a first-rounder for him. But, listen to Mr. W. Cut Ryan and get L.T. So what if he makes you scream you love black people, and show me the money. He is going to be worth it. Speaking of black. I love my coffee like I love my women(s). Hot and full of booze! Had nothing to do with black people, you racist pigs! Where is Al Sharpton when you need him? Next on the WTF show: Arkdale. Peyton Manning for 13+ million…WTF are you doing with him still? I love the Colts as much as you do (some remember my Marvin Harrison trade fiasco a few years ago; thanks for spitting in my bunghole before plowing me all the way, Randy) but, sometimes it is time to move on. Seriously, it's time to cut bait and can almost promise you could get him back for 5+ million less. Easily. But, be prepared to pay for him, just as whoever lands L.T. will pay a nice price also. Oh, Stuckey…Rhodes isn’t a Colt anymore; I’d think about cutting him too! Dion and Ax...WTF is Bush getting paid that for? He is making what 3 million per touchdown. Cut him and get into the L.T. sweepstakes, too! Can promise if you cut Bush, no one would touch him for over a million. Bank on that! Drew…Fat Boy?…WTF?…c’mon! Fat Boy is getting paid what Chris Johnson should be. But, then again I almost hate Fat Boy as much as I do Tom 'I’m Gay' Brady. I can respect your loyalty to Randy Moss, but seriously when does loyalty run its course?

This has the potential to be a very exciting draft this year if people cut some excess baggage and free some names up. Speaking of big spenders. Bruney…Jon…cut Marshawn. Free up 8+ million and come swinging also. Tim Jones has MAJOR cash to spend, Chicago is 10+ mil and a set roster, along with yours truly at 10 mil and more or less a set roster. Only Beanie is rookies being a set price. But who wants to pay Mark “Dirty” Sanchez 3+ million? Who would have thought JaMarcus Russell’s father, Daunte Culpepper, would even be considered by clubs? Since we have gone to 12 teams more than people would like to admit. It’s like McDonald’s up in here…I’m loving it!

So, like the Pimp, it’s gonna be time to sit back, grab a drink and Chill. See what all these fool suckas are going to do prior to the draft and see what Dr. K has to say about everything. Once I get back from my month long bender on a hot beach somewhere, I will sober up, and give power rankings and predictions on each division. But, I will admit and not sure if much will change this. I like how Miami, Chicago, and Pittsburgh look right now. More to come, young grasshoppers…


Mr. W

Friday, December 12

The Wild Card Game

The postseason is now upon, and one has to ask where in the hell did the time go? Unless you’re the Super Bowl favorite Dowagiac Chefs, or the South Bend Scraps. Then perhaps it is a sigh of relief. What happened to the Hawgs? After talking mucho caca to Miami, they just vanished. Did Tommy “The Toe” Mullatti have ham sammiches for 2 months, or what? Speaking of Miami! The Chicago Cubs of the league…always next year chump. Pittsburgh…2 ties…incest is best, put your sister to the test. Arkdale, please for the love of god have RB’s from different teams please! James is washed up. New York, I personally apologize for the Palmer trade. Turned out it was a stroke of genius and I will never second guess you again…till next year. Now who do you want for Ronnie Brown? Hit me up playa!

So we have Canton and Chicago going fisticuffs this weekend. I have heard something about a friendly quit, but both teams want a crack at the title game. Miami is kicking himself in the ass for not taking his rookie of the year pick Matt Forte. That right, Forte for ROY! Chicago will match him up against the once feared L.T. But sadly L.T. has lost that new car smell and his tenure is now up in Canton. If L.T. hopes to possibly get re-signed by Canton next year he best make it happen this weekend. Next year is right now for him! If not, we could possibly see where L.T. could have been signed again next year for mega bucks for substantially less and in a different uniform to boot. But brass tacks. Mr. W feels it is going to be a close game. Only thing Tim Jones needs to worry about is Chicago laid an egg last week, and will be out to re-deem this week. If Portis is healthy I see him getting the start next to Forte. Jones would love to start SJax at Seattle, but ya just never know with this kid. So assuming T.J. sticks with MJD and L.T. Forte and Portis is the better match in this shootout. Chicago goes to Saint Louey to battle against arch rival Missouri.

Chicago 37, Canton 31


Mr. W

Wednesday, September 24


What a week, week 3 turned out to be. I myself pretty much blew the projections as ace Fantasy Baller Jeremy Bonk pointed out after Portis ‘finally’ scored in week 2. But he failed to point out I failed once again after Portis and the rest of his team got SKOOLED by the Hawgs. Just an observation merely on my part. But we have 6….Six….SIX teams all tied for top spot. Six of us at 2-1 and ready to fist fight to claim the spot. I see Dr K. pointed out an interesting fact this morning. All the newer expansion clubs won, sending a message to the grandfathered clubs (sing it in a Dee Snider Twisted Sister voice) WE’RE NOT GONNA TAKE IT…..ANYMOOOORREEE!

The East as always is shaping up to be tough as nails once again! With 4 of the 5 teams at 2-1. A power struggle is in full effect and the countdown to Sunday has started. Providing we have no ties this week (2) clubs will tie for top spot at 3-1 in the East where if Iowa and Missouri can take care of bi’nezz and pull the victory out will also climb to 3-1. Two games have me very interested this week. New York at Pittsburgh and Canton at Miami. All inner conference and important games. But looking at the line ups the Lynx/Spears game is going to be a yawn fest with not too many point score... But then again! But my game of the week. The MasterCard/Visa Trade Bowl…Canton at Miami.

Canton at Miami
Tim Jones and Dave Wills battling it out. Jones gave Wills his crack into the MFL, and Wills immediately landed the gig with the then Porpi and never looked back. These two clubs have traded players more often then Michael Jackson has kids. Jones is wanting to get back to his 2006 form and dominate, and Wills is still trying to prove his worthiness in the East. Canton has been the proverbial kryptonite to the Mafia. Loosing every match except one, and that ended in a tie. Miami would love nothing more than to beat Canton out right and claim his stake as being a contender and not a pretender. A lot is going to depend on what L.T. and M.T. show up. It is going be a real edge of seat game. I think Canton has a little bit more momentum off the Lynx win than Miami does from Dowagiac
Canton 31, Miami 30.

New York at Pittsburgh
The top two teams last year….until New York fell apart in the post season like Britney Spears at the VMA’s. New York after some suspect trades, which is actually turning out not so suspect with Carson Palmer forgetting how to play football like Marc Bulger. Speaking of enjoy warming that bench Bulger you freakin douchebag! Anyways MBIII pimp slaps the pimp(s)
New York 35, Pittsburgh 23

Missouri at Chicago
Here is a battle in the West worth a watch! Grines and Ravens locking horns and swingin and clawing like some chicks that had too much to drink at a Billy Ray Cyrus concert. It is going to be a cat fight…or is it. Grines are trying to establish dominance in the West, Chicago has told everyone he is winning it all. Chicago rights the ship and the Grines drop 2 in a row.
Missouri 27, Chicago 31

Arkdale at Iowa
Another battle in the West. Up and coming Iowa has finally started making positive noise. Arkdale rolls into town trying to get some of the swagger out of Iowa’s step. But with Peyton unavailable it may not possible. Lynch is showing why Jon took him and PAID him in the first round. He will once again hit double digits I think. Iowa rolls SUUUEEYYY!
Arkdale 18, Iowa 29

South Bend at Dowagiac
Last but not least. MFL favorite Dowagiac at home and looking at revenge for last week heartbreaker. It is tough knowing you put up 26 and still come up short. Dowagiac is looking to take some frustrations out on the Scraps. But will they be able to? Is BFW (do you remember last weeks blog) going to be able to roll for the Chefs on Sunday? Too early to tell. Would rather loose an early game in the season then one of my most explosive players for the year. Rivers and All Day are going to be too much. Scraps win for the first time as the Chefs also drop 2 in a row.
South Bend 25, Dowagiac 20


Mr. W

Thursday, September 18

Parvo in remission

Week 3 upon us already and for some it is looking ugly. Injuries are back in Miami alive and well. New York has been plagued by this nasty bug too. Difference is…New York is a winner. A favorite last year, has been pretty much been tossed to the way side once Tommy Boy bit the dust. I knew New York was going to pummel Miami last week, and indeed they did. However I don’t think it happens this week when the Parvo Bowl takes place.

New York and Canton
Not bad blood here, but is enough smack talking to film an entire Jerry Springer show I am sure. New York coming off the beating it handed out is as confident as they could possibly be. Canton squeezing by Arkdale is not on the other hand. LT is beat to hell, Jackson is stuck in a black hole, and no one to throw the ball to Bowe. BUT have no fear, Greg Jennings and MJD are here. I think MJD is going to be in for a big day, and LT is shown the bench. It is not going to be a blow out, but I do think New York wins this one in a nail biter and becomes the only undefeated team in all the land. Dion is telling everyone now….say it after me THRRREEEEEEE AND OOOOOOOOOO at F. R. E. E. that spells Free Credit report dot com bay bee.
New York 26, Canton 24

Grines and Spears lock horns
The Mighty Grines 2-0 are looking good in the West, but then again who wouldn’t? Pittsburgh is just ‘ok’ at the moment. After being the second worse beat team last week Pittsburgh wants to redeem them selves and umm ok will side with the better division and say Pittsburgh upsets Missouri on a last second FG by QB Kellen Clemmons….I mean Mike Nug….Oh hell who is kicking for Pittsburgh this week….SNERDLY….?
Pittsburgh 28, Missouri 25

Chicago and Iowa
Can you smel’l’l’l’l’l’l’l’l’l’l’l’l what Jon Bruney is cooking!?!? Iowa has looked good thus far. Bonk re-bounded nicely after Miami shut them up in week 1, and is chomping at the bit for a rematch with his nemesis from the East. But sadly the Own3d Bowl will have to wait till next year, and Bonk will have to live with the fact that Miami OWNS him in 08 muuuuhahahahaha. However, Bonk is still adamant it is his to loose, and to hell with all the nay sayers. It is going to come down to what RB has the better day. So I have to eat my words from last week Portis doesn’t suck, he once again has a big day as the Ravens tie Missouri for first at 2-1.
Chicago 31, Iowa 20

Varks and the Scraps
South Bend, South Bend, where art thou South Bend? Many thought for sure South Bend had the best RB in the league. However, he has only put up one more touchdown than my mom has. Has run for like 12,000 yards already, but still boils down to umm 6 points. Purple Jesus breaks out this week, and proves he is worth of his salary. Arkdale…ummm they have Peyton Manning and…ummm anyways got sidetracked looking for another player. Too much for Peyton to handle alone. South Bend steam rolls while Charlie rolls by in his golf cart with 3 wheel motion.
South Bend 26, Arkdale 14

Dowagiac vs. Miami
Dr. K’s pick to win it all. Dowagiac meets with 3rd year team Miami. Big trades prior to the draft between these two clubs and some raised eyebrows. But Bock is looking like a genius in Dogpatch right now as Brian Freaking Westbrook (who I will here by call BFW from now on) decided to play ball. Hopefully he will get sentimental from his Miami days and lay the proverbial goose egg he so many times did for Miami. Doubt it. Miami can’t buy a healthy good WR. Dowagiac stomps Miami out.
Dowagiac 32, Miami 23


Mr. W

Thursday, September 4


What is up my fellow brethren of the beloved MFL? We are only a few hours away from officially starting the season and I for one can not wait. I love this game like a fat kid loves carrots! You’re thinking…carrots….wtf that ain’t possible. Think about! If a kid is fat from eating carrots…he must effin really love him some carrots! EHHHH WHATS UP DOC?!?

What a way to kick the season off with probably the newest rivalry in the MFL. Canton and Pittsburgh. There is bad blood from the Super Bowl 2 years ago, and Pittsburgh has been the proverbial stone wall Canton can not get over. Pittsburgh had a great draft, made some good moves, and positioned them for a 4 peat. But Tim Jones is saying nay-nay on this puss-ay. Looking at the line-ups I think Pittsburgh has a little too much for Jonesy. He will put up a fight, but The Spears get them when it is all said and done. In my Game of the Week...

Spears 28 Cougars 26

Jeremy Bonk is ready to get this season started also. Already writing checks with his mouth he is hoping his team can cash. He is calling every team out onto the carpet, and claiming dominance is his. Yes you too Pittsburgh. According to him you ain’t nothing but a brown smear stain on the sheets in room 311 at the Days Inn up in Roseland. You have as good a chance at 4 peating as Courtney Love does at winning Miss America. The Championship is his, so kiss your lil 4 peat dreams good bye pal! Well the Mafia are sayin fughhedaboutit, we’s aint abouts to bow downs to no stupid berdie team! Ravens and Mafia might be starting a rivalry here and being very quiet about it. Both teams had good drafts, but Chicago has the upper hand in veteran experience. But it is going to be a dog fight sponsored by Mike Vick no doubt. Run DMC is going to make his debut, along with The Burner. But Portis and Moron..Maro…the better of the 3 RB’s in New England might be to much for the rookie backfield. But since I am biased, and if you don’t like it write your congressmen the Mafia squeak by this one.

Mafia 34 Ravens 31

Chefs and Lynx. New York was the best team last year, but some questionable, shady deals that went down this off season have left them mediocre at best. Had hands down the best QB tandem, and like Dr K. said traded it away for a benchwarmer. Not sure what the thought process was, but I think Bonk witnessed Dion doing a no-no and this was a hush yer mouth trade to bury the secret forever. Or Dion is Bonks Bitch now and we just haven’t figured it out. Whoose your Daddy Dion….looks like Jeremy is!! Justin Bock on the other hand made VAST improvements. Heard something about who needs Cress when I am best. (Just in case Jon is reading this) Probably the best draft this year came from that club. Some questioned him trading away the overall number 1, but he came thru with flying colors none the less. But Tom Brady is going to be too strong this week and will be the Achilles for the Chefs.

Lynx 31 Chefs 26

SB and Iowa. What a stinker this is gonna be. South Bend is gonna score about as many points as Vince Young scored on his wonderlic test. Only positive SB has is the beloved Adrian Peterson. All Day, Purple Jesus, whatever you want to call him. He is the team period! Iowa still has Papa Favre kickin, and before long he will wish he stayed retired, and no Jon I don’t want Joe Klop..frankenstien! I’m going out saying the first tie of the year is done here and now in this game.

Scraps 20 Hawgs 20

Grines and Varks. Student vs Pupil, David vs Goliath. I believe there are only 2 teams Drew wants to just completely embarrass this year. The Varks for stealing the West away from them, and the Spears for taking Mendenhall away from them. But this is the re-match of the Western divisional game so to speak. Drew went from zippo RBS to a stable. But does he have a sure fire starter? We all would love to think Frank Gore is it. But can he stay healthy in a somewhat dysfunctional system in 49er land? But Arkdale adding 2 RBs…2nd and 3rd stingers from the same team didn’t help matters. The Mighty Grines literally destroy the Varks in the Pampers blow out of the week game.

Grines 32 Varks 17


Mr. W

Saturday, September 24

The Pokémon Incident: or, Mishawaka is Decadent and Depraved

Never invite police officers or vampires into your house.

There's a lot of misinformation out there, where people think that if they ask an undercover officer “are you a cop?” then the cop has to identify himself. That is blatantly wrong. You may have seen it on TV or in a book, the fiction that if a drug dealer or prostitute asks a client "are you a police officer" and they say "no" then any resulting arrest is entrapment.

Sounds great in a book, but it is not true in real life.

I'm not sure if the same thing applies for vampires-- no-one has ever answered affirmatively when I asked-- though I do not wish to find out.

These were my thoughts as I sat on a park bench chatting with Officer O.

We go back a long time -- almost 20 years -- but sh*t, there's still something about the “officer” part that makes me uncomfortable. I mean, I love the guy like a brother, but what if I find myself on the wrong side of the Law, like in a heist movie? Some sweeping epic about how two lifelong friends go on divergent paths-- one light, one dark-- slow-burning to a tense finale where Officer O has to choose between his wayward best buddy and his belief in Truth and Justice? An emotional scene where the weeping Officer tries to arrest his friend, but I choose to run, knowing that he will be forced to shoot me down like Harambe? And I'm white: wouldn't even get a Black Lives Matter protest out of the deal.

“I can hear you, you know.”

F**k, that was out loud? In retrospect, the scotch, Ambien, and wheat grass smoothie might not have been the best breakfast option.

“Probably not,” he said. “And having Harambe and Black Lives Matter in same paragraph was also not the best analogy. Racist Much?”

“Not what I meant. Not at all. Must have been the wheat grass talking. And here I thought that sh*t was good for you... Anyway, why are we here?”

“Pimp, I wouldn't ask this unless it was extremely important,” he said, the morning sunlight shining brightly on his jack boots. “But there's a scourge here in Mishawaka. Kids are dying left and right. First it was junkies, but now it's everybody. High school kids. Seven last week. Eight the week before. It's some sort of designer drug.”

“Designer drug. Got a sample?”

“No, seriously man. This is deadly. Causes a coma and heart attack. Kills people dead in their sleep. They're calling it 'Snorlax.'”

“Snorlax? Like the Pokémon?”

“Yup. The sleepy Pokémon. I suspect that they're using these Poke-meetups in the park to distribute it. But for the life of me I can't figure out how. I tried going undercover but hell, look at me: buzz cut gives me away. I need someone to look into it, someone who wouldn't seem out of place lurking in the park buying drugs from high schoolers. Someone like...”

“Sh*t no, I ain't no Narc. Damn The Man. Find some other stool pigeon, ya filthy copper!”

“Fine, but their blood is on your hands.”


“No, seriously, people are going to die.”

“People die every day. Gorillas, too.”

“OK. I'll make it worth your while.”

“I'm listening.”

“Let's just say I'll owe you a favor.”

“Like a cash favor?”


“Like a get-out-of-jail free card for when I drive home drunk later?”


“Like an evidence room brick of coke goes missing and ends up in my closet kind of favor?”

“No! What is wrong with you!?! A favor like 'I'll lend you my truck and help you move...'”

“...A body?”



So there I was, lurking in the park buying drugs from high schoolers. It was a hot, humid night. Streaks of blue and purple and orange filled the evening sky, reflecting off the river like a Bob Ross painting. Happy little trees danced and drank up the twilight like a thirsty deer at a watering hole. Soft focus hazy light clung to everything, like a lens flare in a JJ Abrams movie. Ambien is The Best.

Pokémon? Who knew? This game is popular as hell: half of Mishawaka had to be at the river walk that night. Kids of all ages, teens, 30 year olds in extended adolescence wearing Pikachu hoodies, moms and dads and old men in Hawaiian shirts riding hoverboards. Forget seedy alleys behind the CVS: the Officer was right, just about anyone could blend in and not be suspicious. Except for the forty year old with the army haircut, wearing a jacket in the 90 degree heat to badly conceal a service weapon. F**k that guy. Narc.

I wandered around with my phone in hand, pretending to shoot balls at little rat demons or whatever. I dunno. I have a Windows phone, so I'm not sure what the fuss is about; Android and iPhone only for your stupid little rat demon game. Fine, I don't even want to play. Looks stupid, like your stupid iPhone and your stupid “working apps” and your stupid face. Stupid.

Had to blend in, do something with my phone. I checked out some fantasy football articles. The season was set to start in just a few weeks and I was ready to make some mad money of Daily Fantasy, which I need, since the Mishawaka cops don't want to pay me for being their informant. Damn The Man! I'm gonna win so hard this year. I'm gonna draft Matt Forte and Julian Edelman and Demaryius Thomas and--

Wait, what is this? Free entries? Play with friends? Games for beginners? Am I on the wrong website? Draft Kings and Fan Duel are all about “fun” now. After last year's ridiculous ads with money raining from the ceiling like balloons at a political convention, they kinda got on the attorney general's radar. “Gee, all these millions of dollars make me think that this might be gambling. It's gambling, right? I am shocked-- SHOCKED-- that there is gambling on sports. And the government doesn't even get a piece of it. Kill it. Kill it dead. Kill it with fire!” So the Daily Fantasy sites decided to get the fuzz off their backs and re-brand around “having fun.” “Playing with friends.” No more sharks crushing newbies. No more computers auto-posting lineups from spreadsheets. No more 4' by 8' comically gigantic checks. Fun!?!

Stupid government, ruining it for everyone.

“Yeah, stupid government, ruining it for everyone,” she said.

I looked up. Sh*t, that was out loud again, wasn't it?


She couldn't have been more than seventeen, curly mess of hair, rail thin with all the curves of Christian Bale in “The Machinist.” She was built like a ruler, and weighed about the same. A powder blue Sesame Street t-shirt dangled from her wiry frame, The Count's face rippling in the breeze. One, ha ha! Two, ha ha! Cute kid but not really my type. Nice face, though. Maybe in a few years. Unless I had that aforementioned get-out-of-jail-free card, and I was drunk enough. Then again, there's not much I won't do if I'm drunk enough.

“You're talking out loud again,” she said.

“Oh, um... Sorry about that... I mean... yeah... stupid government, ruining it for everyone. Let's go back to that.” Nice catch. Damn I'm smooth.

Her Bernie Sanders button glistened, as did her eyes. “Yeah, stupid government... I say burn the motherf**ker down. Wake up, Sheeple!” The voice of an angel. And not a winged-baby Renaissance angel; an Old Testament angel made of fire and swords and concentric circles of eyes. That kind of angel. The light caught her hair and took flight like doves in that Prince video. What was it called? Something about doves? I forget.

Um... I admit, I was a little out of my head, and it wasn't just the Ambien. Kinda wish I had that get-out-of-jail-free card for later. She had me at “burn the motherf**ker down.” What can I say? I'm a Romantic.

“Thanks for the compliment. That's kinda sweet... if not weird... So, not-at-all-creepy strange man who talks to himself about overthrowing the government and f**king a teenager, you are obviously a drug taker. Am I right? Are you here to find the Sleeping Pokémon?”

“Yes you are. And yes I am.”

“Cool. I know where you can find him... How about you go to that drug store over there and buy me a bottle of Jameson. Do that for me and I'll take you to El Jefe. He'll set you up.”

A Clue! My memories of high school Spanish alerted me that El Jefe means “THE Jefe,” and that sounds important! And buying booze for a kid is a way to Stick it to The Man, so I'm in. But Glenlivet? That's a little high end. Not Boone's Farm or even Valu-Rite Vodka? I mean, Glenlivet is $28.95, $26.95 with CVS discount card, and $24.26 if I buy six bottles.

“I find it a little disturbing that you know that,” she said.

“THAT'S the thing you find disturbing about our conversation?” I think I'm in love.


You haven't lived until you've sat on a curb behind a Goodwill donation box in a CVS parking lot popping Ambien and sharing a handle of single malt with an underage girl. Detective work is The Best.

“OK,” she said, as the last of the booze vanished from the bottle like the sun disappearing behind the horizon. “Time to see El Jefe.”

She led me across the street. It was going to rain soon. There was pressure in the air already. A sandwich shop. Shaggy's? Something like that. The windows stared towards the darkening foothills. The lights were off, and only a candle lit the room. Not any old candle, but one of those fancy Yankee Candles that smells very nice and is expensive as balls. This El Jefe character must have all the money. Must be muy importante, which is Spanish for “VERY importante.”

Some dude in a Vampire Weekend concert tee came out of the back in a Very Big Hurry and made a bee line for the door. He slammed into my shoulder, spilling his styrofoam Mr. Pibb all over my best Hawaiian shirt. I was pissed: Dr. Pepper has 23 flavors, but Mr. Pibb has 24, and it's that 24th one that's a bitch to clean off.

Shadows flickered. The outline of a figure appeared. He wore a Kangol cap. He looked vaguely familiar.

“Sup, Purple Pimp?” How did he know my name? This was getting weird.

“So, um... how about that Snorlax, huh?”

“Subtle, as always. You dumb ass, the first rule of Pokémon Fight Club is You Do Not Talk About Pokémon Fight Club.”


“... I'm just f**king with you, Pimp. Anything for a buddy. Have some Snorlax: first one's on me.”

I was tempted, but then Officer O's warning from before popped into my head like an uninvited party guest. “Kids are dying left and right... This is deadly.... Causes a coma and heart attack... Kills people dead in their sleep.” Ain't nobody got time for that!

“Um, Mr. El Jefe, sir... I think I'll pass. Just doing a little window shopping is all. I was just looking for an excuse to spend time with your lovely assistant. I don't even do drugs anymore, except for the legal ones, to be honest...”

“I knew you'd say that. That's why I had Vampire Weekend over there dose you.” I looked in horror at the Mr. Pibb dripping down my arm. I knew it! The 24th ingredient is a skin-absorbent neurotoxin!

“Nighty night, Purple Pimp. But don't worry, you won't feel a thing.”

I didn't.


I woke up at home, in my bed. I felt oddly refreshed, like after the deep REM sleep that only Ambien and scotch can provide. Did I dream the entire thing? That was some dream, then. Scotch. Yankee candles. A shady drug kingpin. A flame-throwing Bolshevik with a tight shirt and loose morals. VAVOOM! I...

I felt something brush up against my leg, under the covers. A crumpled powder blue Sesame Street t-shirt. Sh*t. I got up and went to the kitchen for a scotch, Ambien, and wheat grass smoothie while I figured out what to do next.

The radio alarm clock powered on. “My Sharona,” by the Knack. Well played, God. Well played.

On the refrigerator I found a note.

“Had a great time last night. Call me.” It was written on the back of a business card advertising Senior Portraits. Sh*t. Sh*t. Sh*t. Sh*t.

I slammed the clock radio against the wall. The channel changed. “Christine Sixteen” by Kiss. Fuuuuuck.

A knock at the door.

“Pimp, it's me, Officer O. Let me in, please. Anything happen last night I should know about?”

I looked out the peep hole. I was NOT going to let him in. “Um, no. Nothing at all. Total false alarm there. Nothing illegal happened at all. Everything is totally fine here.”

“Nothing? I saw you chatting up some little girl and go into the CVS with her. She had nothing to say?”

“Nope! Totally false lead. Nothing to report. So... you should go now. Have a nice day.” Another glance out the peep hole. He was neither going nor having a nice day. Follow instructions, dammit!

The morning sunlight shone brightly on his gun. You know that weird feeling you get when you see a cop's gun and you kinda want to make a move for it? Not that I ever would, but it's like how when you stand on top of a building and that sick part of your brain gets a thrill thinking about jumping off, just because you know it's something you're not supposed to do. I hear that they teach airline pilots not to look at the ground for that very reason. I don't care if you're Captain Sully; that Anarchist lizard part of your brain compels you to think about crashing into a goddamn mountain just to break society. Stupid government.

“I think they call it 'ground hypnosis.'” Officer O said. “And yes, you're talking out loud again.”

“Oh... Then I guess you know that nothing at all happened and I'm telling the truth, seeing as you can hear my thoughts and all. Very transparent. Nothing illegal happened at all. No sir.”

“Pimp, seriously, you're one weird dude. I give up.”

Damn, I'm smooth.


After a few days, I convinced myself that the part in the shop was just a dream. I've gotten black-out before; this ain't no thing. I mean, I made some bad decisions that night but it's not like I got poisoned by some Mishawaka Sandwich Gangster. What is this, a bad short story? Maybe I should call that girl, apologize for corrupting her, give her the shirt back. I mean, she probably paid twenty dollars for it.

But the nagging thought persisted: I'm sure it's all in my head, but what if really am in the grip of some terrible, terrible drug?

I lost track of time more than usual. Emails I don't remember sending, fantasy trade proposals I don't recall. I sent a dick pic to Dr. K. OK, that one I remember, but not the other stuff. My actions didn't always seem to be my own. Fever, chills, a pounding headache. No appetite-- I was OK with that, since I could spare to lose a few pounds-- but whenever I tried to eat something I just ended up on the bathroom floor, dry heaving into the toilet. Did you know there's a green circular quality-assurance sticker halfway down the left side of Crane brand toilet bowls? I know that now.

I slept all day, stayed up all night. Going out during daylight made my eyes hurt. Stayed in and watched Netflix instead, but all that seemed to be on was horror films.

Now I'm an intelligent guy. I can spot similes and metaphors and sh*t. Horror films use monsters as stand-ins for social fears, ranging from external threats to internal disorders. Metaphors of the human body and its relation to disease, a critique of urban space and modern society and how it corrupts people. Zombies and vampires take the gospel of narcissism its logical conclusion in entropy, cannibalism, and self-consumption.

So maybe I'm not drugged. Maybe this sickness was some sort of hypochondriac thing due to the guilt that comes with sexing a minor. You know, Edgar Allen Poe and tell-tale heart stuff. I hope that's all it is. I also hope Officer O doesn't find out. I'm too pretty for jail.

But it didn't go away. Maybe I should see a doctor? Can't really afford one though. Thanks, Obama!

I did my best to relax and ride things out. The scotch helped. Looked at some grandma porn to try to even things out: you know, seventeen plus sixty divided by two, and it averages out OK, right? I sought solace in familiar things like the football blogs, but my head was swimming, the words didn't make sense. Something about controversy at the MFL draft? Some tampering thing afterwards? I didn't understand. It was all a jumbled word salad that I couldn't comprehend. It was talk radio on a weak signal at low volume. It was as if the words were in Spanish. I mean, I'm pretty good at Spanish, but this was like Super-Spanish.

Finally I relented. I needed to know the truth. I had to call her.


We met at the Goodwill donation box behind CVS again, and this time I sprung for the six bottles of Glenlivet. What can I say? I'm a thrifty shopper.

“So, um... How about that government, huh?”

She looked down and avoided eye contact. “Yeah... Sorry about last month. Shouldn't have drugged you.”

“So it was real? Snorlax, El Jefe, Vampire Weekend shirt guy, the Yankee Candle that smelled really nice?”

“Yes. It was real. And I said I'm sorry.”

“Sh*t, woman. My life's turned into a bad short story, my head's on fire, and I think I'm dying. And 'sorry' is all you have to say?”

“Look, you're a nice guy. Weird, but nice. That's why I left my phone number. And I left my shirt so you'd think we boned, would become consumed with guilt, and eventually call.”

“Wait, we didn't...”

“Ewww no... I mean, um, you're not really my type... I just feel really bad about what he did to the four of you, turning you into zombies and whatnot.”

“The four of us?”

“Yeah, El Jefe. He brainwashed a bunch of guys. Not really sure why, but it had something to with destroying a fantasy league?”


“It started a few months ago. I was working as a delivery driver at the restaurant, and things weren't going so hot. Di-- I mean, El Jefe-- was struggling to make payroll. Then one day this fancy-ass car pulls up and some big shots come in. Suits, hundred dollar Ray-Bans... Big Swinging Dicks, you know the type. Said they were from Fan Kings or Draft Duel or something. Wanted to speak with El Jefe. I pretended to go out on delivery but snuck back in through the alley. Heard the whole thing.”


“They gave him a briefcase of cash. Total gangster sh*t. Said that their new ad campaign was about 'playing with friends,' so they needed to tear down all the existing fantasy leagues, make everyone hate their old friends so they'll sign up to meet new ones. Get rid of your real life buddies and replace them with fake Internet ones. Throw away your relationships AND your money... And for what? So Fan Kings can make a few dollars? C*ck-sucking greed monkeys. Corporations prioritize profits, not people. Damn The Man. I say burn the motherf**ker down.”

“Wait... so El Jefe sold us out!?! That bastard sold out his friends for money and a sweet new sandwich oven!”

“No, no... El Jefe's a good guy. He turned them down. Then one of the suits splashed something on him. Said he'd soon be willing to comply. A little later, boss started acting weird. It was like he wasn't himself. Started forgetting things. Bizarre emails. Sent dick pics to Dr. K. And finally he gave his buddies some sandwiches laced with the drug. Before you know it, they're doing The Man's bidding. Violating salary caps. Posting weird sh*t on message boards. Fighting about something called a 'Forte' and an 'Edelman.' And I don't even think those are real Pokémon.”

“But what about me? The sick kids? Where does that fit in?”

“The Fan Kings knew you were low carb dieting and wouldn't eat a sandwich. So they dosed a couple kids so your cop buddy would ham-fistedly look into it and get you involved. They played you guys like a violin. It really was the ultimate Pokémon Lure!”

“I don't know what that means, but OK... So I'm a mind-controlled zombie now. But as my mind rots into nothingness, at least my last thoughts won't be guilt about f**king you. So I've got that going for me, which is nice.”

“Relax. It wears off after a couple days. The drug I mean. Not the guilt: that would have lasted forever. Good job on not doing whatever depraved sex thing you were thinking about. You get a gold star for that sh*t. I mean I'm eighteen, but it's still gross...”

“So I'm NOT going to die?”

“Nope, the drug wears off quickly: you'll just have some amnesia and flu-like symptoms for a bit. I'm surprised that it's lasted this long, to be honest. Maybe the Ambien is prolonging the effect. Thanks, Big Pharma... But yeah, you're good. The police totally exaggerated about comas and deaths. Wouldn't be surprised if Draft Duel paid them to feed you disinformation. But what do you expect? Corporate police state making us panic so we'll do what they want: that's the real mind-controlling zombie drug here. Wake up, Sheeple! Damn The Man. Stupid government.”

I smiled. “Baby, you had me at 'I'm eighteen.'”



The Purple Pimp

Monday, October 5

Whisky Tango Foxtrot: Kickers Rule!

Whisky is the Manliest drink ever. Analogy: beer is to whisky as binge-watching Netflix at 3AM is to punching a machine-gun-toting Nazi great white shark right in its goddamn face. Both are enjoyable, but one is a billion times more awesome. And for you pendants (and search engines), no, I do not spell “whisky” with an “e.” Because the only time you should have some “e” in your whisky is when you are also gyrating to Daft Punk at an underground glowstick warehouse dance party.

If you're in a chill mood, sipping whisky on the porch while watching the sun descend in a creamsicle periwinkle “Batman Vs. Superman” mash-up is the way to go. If you're in a pissed-off aggressive mood, whisky slaps you on the back and says, “That open-carrying Nazi shark looked at you funny. Go do something about it!”

So where does the Greatest Thing Ever come from? To hear some tell it, you simply take Charles Bronson's ball-sweat, mix in a dash of formaldehyde from John Dillinger's secret Smithsonian wang jar, and then barrel-age it in the middle of a Motocross event for a century. Though that's how it tastes, the truth is that it involves Measuring and Chemistry and all sorts of Nerd Sh*t. Basically, you take whatever tasty carbs you can find (wheat, barley, corn, Steve McQueen's exhumed carcass, etc.), add water, and boil the crap out of it. After it cools down, you add some yeast, then let it sit there for days while a nasty-ass rot-farm takes hold. Then science the sh*t out of that hot mess, with flames and stills and crap.

Yeast are descendants of our ancient ancestors: that was pretty much all of life on Earth was a couple billion years ago. For whisky purposes, they eat up the sugar in grain and poop out alcohol. Thanks, Cousin Billy!

The problem is the Wild Yeast, which are just some Chill Bros that hang out in the atmosphere and mooch on the cultivated 1%. If they get in there, your whisky tastes like game-worn basketball shorts and gives you the poops. In the MFL World, kickers are either Whisky or Basketball Shorts, no in between. You love your kicker and spend all of Sunday chilling like a boss, or poop yourself uncontrollably and punch your cat and cry. With the new extra point rules, kickers have missed twice as many PATs as they did all of last year: no automatic points. And offensive gimmicks are leading to more field goal or bust situations. Last week, Cairo “The Foot of Fate” Santos booted 21 points: more than seven (!) MFL teams.

So going forward, maybe we should have an all-kicker league?


Four weeks in, here are the WTF: Kickers Rule! Rankings:


NEW YORK: Cairo Santos and Matt Prater. KC can't score in the red zone, and Detroit can't score period. Detroit can turn it around if they demote Joe “Grandfathered In” Lombardi.

PITT: Matt Bryant and Chris Boswell. Atlanta is too good at scoring TDs now, and Cody Parkey is hurt. Maybe the Steelers' Flavor of the Week can get it done. Heinz's 57 ingredients meets Baskin Robbins' 31 flavors: maybe this means something.

DC: Brandon McManus and Dan Carpenter. Their NFL teams are going ball control and kicking a lot of field goals. Throw Noodle Arm Manning's weirdly effective two minute drills into the mix, and they're potent.

CANTON: Justin Tucker. Balto is adequate, and their running game sucks. Field goal festival! They can pick up a backup later after 27 NFL kickers get cut due to missed extra points.


MIAMI: Chandler Catanzaro and Dan Bailey. Good kickers on good teams that have red zone flaws. Watch out when Romo comes back, or when Andre Ellington sprains his Andre Ellington. Also, I think I recently binge watched the crime drama “Catanzaro and Bailey” on Netflix.

SB: Randy Bullock and Caleb Sturgis. Actually, I apologize: I was thinking of “Bullock and Sturgis: the Totally Adequate Duo.” Four weeks ago, I would not have put the Scraps and “totally adequate” in the same sentence. Yay Kickers!

ORLANDO: Josh Lambo. On the bright side, the Chargers should get into field goal range a whole bunch. On the not-so-bright side, I had to Google who the hell this is. Lambo: First Blood?


CHICAGO: Steven Gostkowski and Graham Gano. The kicker on the best offense in the league, and a guy whose team is good enough to get into figgie range, but without the playmakers to finish the deal. CHAMPIONSHIP!

ARKDALE: Mason Crosby and Steven Haushka. Two great kickers on offenses that are missing their top finishers. I'm looking forward to the playoff game where one of them puts up 15 while Aaron Rodgers or Marshawn Lynch gets zero.

FLINT: Adam Vinatieri and Sebastian Janikowski. Andrew Luck is temporarily broken, while the Oakland Raiders are perpetually broken. Until sh*t gets healed, Adequate Duo is adequate.

MISSOURI: Josh Brown and Connor Barth. Barth will be the #1 rumored leading candidate for every open kicker job this year. Until Barth lands on a roster, Drew Keuspert will be manically refreshing the “News and Notes” page like a laid-off auto worker on DraftKings hoping his weird, outside-the-box thinking team got him the cash to bail out his underwater home.



The Purple Pimp

Saturday, December 13

Who's Your Daddy

People say that procrastination is like masturbation, in that it is only pleasurable to you. Which people exactly say that I'm not sure, but they are probably those creepy over-sharers for whom there are no conversational boundaries. So comfortable with themselves that they touch your arm and regale you with weird personal details about their anal leakage surgeries and new steel-cut oat diet and spin class regimen and how 9/11 was an inside job. If you see these people at your holiday party, run.

The reason I bring that up is because I am a Grade A procrastinator. I have been meaning to write my playoff preview for a while now, but here we are, just a few hours away from kickoff. And what have I written? Well, about 135 words, if Clippy's word count is accurate.

So what should we expect from MFL XV? Or is it XVX? I dunno. I missed a lot of school as a kid. Those whacky Romans: one minute they're inventing numerals and democracy, and the next minute Kiefer Sutherland is chasing that poor girl through the burning embers of Pompeii. And he kept at it, even though any normal person would have left the volcanic inferno and, you know, lived. But not Kiefer: he was like, "Who gives a f**k about the explosions next to me? I am going to make the last few minutes of these people's lives terrible. BECAUSE THAT IS HOW I ROLL, SON." Kiefer was un-killable in that movie, like Jason or something. Maybe it's a call-out to the Lost Boys, and he's actually the same vampire character? Makes sense. Maybe Jack Bauer is the same character, too? Heck yes! I would watch the f**k out of a vampire NSA agent action drama. Man, now I need to wrap this column up so I can work on my original screenplay for "Nosferatu vs. Zombie bin Laden." This is the Best Idea Ever.

Seriously, it's time for something original. The most anticipated films this summer are "Mad Max," "The Terminator," and "Star Wars." WHAT YEAR IS THIS!?!

I tried to get in on this reboot game but failed miserably: JJ Abrams completely rewrote my last script and then didn't even pay me! He was all "The Smoke Monster ate your check, but if you wait for five more years then it will be revealed!" SPOILER ALERT: It was not. Jerk. My script was pretty d*mned good, too. I took a weighty literary classic and reinterpreted through the gaze of a beloved sci-fi franchise. Spaceships, farmers, and even a little populist political message to bait the Oscar voters. Period costumes and great visual effects would have won sooooo many awards. But sadly, "The Grapes of Wrath of Khan" was not to be.


So how do the teams break down? We all know that Andrew Luck and Aaron Rodgers will be #1 and #2 in MVP voting. (Luck finished with an astounding 126 points, and Rodgers was the next best non-kicker at 112.) We all know that Jamaal Charles runs like a nitro-burning funnycar in one of those quite-possibly-illegal drag races that regional cable sports networks would show at 4 AM 25 years ago.

Rather than re-hash what we already know, I want to focus on a couple under the radar guys that might prove to be the difference. And also Tony Romo.


It's the click-baity-est time of the year! Grandmas who never check their Facebook will log in to send Christmas e-cards, and don't our online advertisers know it! Your Feed is full of lists like "The Ten Best Christmas Cookie Recipes" and "Ten Creepy Santas That Will Give You Nightmares." We should also probably add "Football Players with Holiday Themed Names Who Will Ruin You." Ann Arbor has the Bells, Le'Vian and Joique. Done. They will jingle all the way into the end zone. I wonder if one of them has a wife or sister named Carol? "Carol of the Bells," get it? Not to be confused with ESPN's Eric Karabell, who probably gets all manner of mail this year from people who cannot spell.

In other news, Tony Romo has been gritting out the season with a broken back! In medical jargon, they diminish it by saying that it's "just two fractures in his transverse process." Oh, I see. What a Puss! These are the parts that attach literally one million of your core muscles to your spinal column. You should not be able to shrug this sh*t off. If this happened to me, I would not be playing football. I would be gimping around with a cane and popping Vicodin like House M.D., and would have an excuse for being a d*ck to everybody. I mean, I do that anyway, but having an excuse would be nice. Also, "Transverse Process" is the name for my prog metal band's new album.


Congrats to Dave Willf, who changed the team name again and now needs new business cards.

Speaking of Holiday Theme Names, how about Emmanuel Sanders? O Come O Come Emmanuel indeed. A few weeks back he had a huge three TD game, which prompted San Diego to immediately cut the guy who was covering him. Hey, that's not in the Holiday Spirit, you guys! Richard Marshall's family's got to eat, too! Also, like I mentioned earlier, I am bad at my job. And I would not like to wake up on Monday morning and see that I have been replaced with a street free agent who blogs at league average replacement level. Each morning, rather than touching the Notre Dame locker room sign that impels me to play like a champion, I prefer the less ambitious "DON'T GET FIRED TODAY" version.

All in all, Bishop Sankey might be the key to Gatlinburg's playoff run. He hasn't been a total failure like Trent Richardson and he has a cool name, even if it isn't holiday themed. (Yeah, a Bishop could be involved in a Christmas Mass, but it isn't like his name is Mistletoe McReindeerSh*ts or anything.) "Bishop Sankey" actually sounds like a boozy hedonist amphetamine dealer turned informant in a gritty 70's cop drama. It could be one of those shiny/grimy L.A. underbelly pieces, full of sad tales of cocaine and teenage runaways and brutal alpha dog violence. Maybe that should be my next screenplay. The debased and horrible Bishop Sankey (Liam Neeson) gets a moment of redemption when he teams up to fight crime with special agent Chandler Catanzaro (Kiefer Sutherland), who is also a vampire.


Pittsburgh needs someone to step up, since Ryan Mathews continues to be Ryan Mathews. According to his Wikipedia page, " In 2013, Mathews did not miss a game due to injury for the first time in his career." (This includes college.) Well then!

I've been picking things up with three fingers for the past few weeks now. (OK, mostly beer bottles, but those are technically things.) Odell Beckham Jr. made the catch of the (hyperbole hyperbole hyperbole) a few weeks back, and chaos ensued. Did you know that his dad was college roommates with Shaq? Did you know that Odell Beckham Jr. has hands that are as large as Shaq's? Did you know-- hey, wait a second... Are we sure that we know his true parentage? Like maybe his parents were celebrating a birthday with their friends and his mom had a few too many shots of Patrón and got that giggly "I'm so drunk... TEE HEE HEE... I'm so naughty... TEE HEE HEE... It's not me, it's the tequila talking" voice that ladies get when they drink Patrón and start hitting on every man, woman, or potted plant nearby? (Hey... potted plant... I want your genitals in my mouth. NOW SHOW ME YOUR TITS! It's the tequila talking!) Hrmmm... Odell Beckham wears the "JR." part of his name a little too proudly, like maybe he thinks that by repeating it over and over he'll convince himself that yeah, I'm Odell Beckham Jr. Odell Beckham Sr. is my dad, and my mom was not Shaqtin' a Fool and got the NBA Inside Stuff back in 1992.


Steve Smith Sr. is f**king terrifying. He was mildly terrifying back when he was Just Steve Smith, but the power of the "SR." takes it to another level. The only reason a 35 year old man uses the "SR." is if he's buying real estate or applying for a Passport. I don't think that anyone will be confusing him for Steve Smith Jr. on the football field, is what I'm saying. The "SR." is there just to put mofos on Notice: "I have a kid that means so much to me that if you mess with him I swear that I will run through a g**d*mn brick wall to come after you. And if I get stuck in the rubble I will gnaw off my foot like an animal in a bear trap, pick up my severed foot, chase you down and then beat you to death with it."

NOTE: This somehow sounds a thousand times more terrifying if you read it in a Liam Neeson voice.

Steve Smith Sr. thinks of his football team like his family. So if some b*tch like Kenny Vaccaro tries to front on his boys, then it is on like Donkey Kong. And if you are on Steve Smith Sr.'s team, then you better get it done OR ELSE. Steve Smith Sr. will not let his team lose, which is why I pick the Chicago Ravens to win it all. There will come a time in these playoffs when Jay Cutler throws his fourth pick and makes Jay Cutler pouty faces, then sees Steve Smith Sr. making Steve Smith Sr. crazy eye killa faces, then promptly shapes up and throws three TDs in seven minutes. Steve Smith Sr. is the best.


At the start of the year I picked the Ravens to win the Super Bowl, and I'm not changing my prediction now. Especially not with Steve Smith Sr. rage-glowering at me. Actually, I'll double down on that: the Chicago Ravens WILL win the Super Bowl, and it won't be close. Jeremy Bonk *finally* gets the monkey off his back.

And if for some reason this doesn't happen, then Bonk burns the motherf**ker to the ground like Pompeii. First move: trade Colin Kaepernick and Greg Olsen to DC for Phil Rivers and New England Tight End #69. Because 1) a "Bonk and Gronk" offense would be alliteratively awesome, and 2) Philip Rivers and Jay Cutler b*tching at each other on the sidelines would cause Steve Smith Sr. to fill up with so much vengeful rage that he explodes for 300 points all by his own d*mn self next year. Like a sociopathic Godzilla monster fueled not by nukes, but by the piss-and-moaning of his of his QBs. Steve Smith Sr. will destroy everyone and everything in 2015. Carnage, Fire, and Death ensue. I will write the screen play. Donald Sutherland's kid will play the lead role.

Also, he is a vampire.


The Purple Pimp

Sunday, October 26

Fightstarter Karaoke: Mis-Heard Lyrics Edition

Well, we've reached the halfway point of the MFL season. To celebrate, Mr. W, Dr. K, and Yours Truly partied harder than any mere mortal can comprehend. We partied so hard that epic poems will be passed down through the generations detailing our exploits. We partied so hard that even Andrew WK would approve. (And THAT dude knows a thing or two about partying!) That's right, we partied the only way three grown ass men can: Karaoke Night.

So detonate a few Jager bombs, spin up some Bon Jovi, and sing with us:


(wheout-wheout-wheout. wheout-wheout-wheout.)

"I don't think those are the lyrics," shouted Mr. W. I could barely make out what he was saying over the louder than bombs swank-ass wheout-wheout-wheout synthesizer noises.
"The song's over," he said. " Why are you still making wheout-wheout-wheout synthesizer noises with your mouth?"
"I think it's because I am trying to escape the existential melancholy of life, bro. I have to entertain myself 24/7 with song and drink and text messages and Twitter and Facebook alerts and Snap Chat and Grinder. If my mind is unoccupied, I might reflect on my mortality and place in the universe. Also, my lack of Fantasy Football Cap Space."


"Like, if everyone on the Redskins got Ebola and had to be quarantined for 21 days, and Roger Goodell made up a new, arbitrary rule that immediately made the top 54 on Mel Kiper's Big Board the new Washington football team, how many dudes would be on MFL rosters? Two? Three?"
"Conspiracy! I like it! Goodell gets rid of the Washington team name kerfuffle-- maybe we call the new team the American Ebola Haters-- and no one digs into *who gave them Ebola* (cough, the CIA, cough) because it affects their Fantasy team. Solid... Anyway, Pimp, I said that I think that your lyrics--"

"Are awesome? I agree! They're pretty interesting from a political science perspective. MFL cap room makes me reflect on socialism, and come to think about it... I never really thought about this until last year when I was watching the Soji Olympics and got sh*t-hammered on borsht and vodka smoothies, but "LIVING ON A PRAYER" is all about RUSSIA, bro!"


"Dr.K, back me up on this. You're an educated man, a doctor, even. Granted, you got your medical degree at a shady Caribbean diploma mill, but it is a degree, and you showed initiative and go-getter resolve in filling out the paperwork. Dr. K for the win! ANYWAY, let's analyze this bitch."

"Straightforward, right? He's an everyman, but his livelihood depends on the union's struggle against unfettered capitalism. So the song already establishes it's Marxist street cred. Only now the plot thickens."

"So his wife's a prostitute. Nothing wrong with that. But who is she servicing? The miners. The miners are not on strike like the dock workers. Why? Because they are in charge of getting the coal, the gas, the iron that is the backbone of the economy. They hold an elevated position. The state has a vested interest in working with the Miner's Union to ensure that production hums along. If Tommy's dock work company strikes it's no big deal. Those dudes can be replaced. But if there isn't any oil for six weeks?"

"Tommy and Tina are going to support socialism, right? As Lee Corso says, 'not so fast, my friend.' See, Tina is part of the Lumpen Proletariat. Marx wrote that total revolution would not be possible, since there are people who live outside of the normal economy-- the prostitutes, the drug dealers, the gamblers-- and therefore won't care one way or another about politics. It doesn't matter to Tina if the miners are paid by a company, or a government, or a company working with the government; all that matters is that the miners have money or food or possessions they can barter for a rub and tug."

"And Tommy? He holds such a non-essential job that there is no guarantee that he won't be overlooked by the new regime. Already he's in a system where he has collective bargaining rights, and that's failed him: he probably won't get onboard unless there's a total overhaul where everyone has a guaranteed job and wages. He and Tina are the permanently unemployable that Huey P. Newton felt would become the modern revolutionary class."

"But back to the miners who Tina j/o s. The line "FIGHTING WITH A BEAR" is interesting, since in literature Russia is typically referred to as The Great Bear. What is Bon Jovi implying here? That no matter what political economic system they're in, Tommy and Tina will still have to fight and struggle? Under Josep Tito, Yugoslavia nearly rebelled against Stalin's USSR. Tito thought that the satellite state arrangement hurt the Yugoslavian people; that Russia was simply using them for their natural resources, which were being exported for the benefit of the Russian higher-ups; that the arrangement wasn't having any meaningful impact on the day-to-day lives of his people; and that Russia would stop giving a d**n about them as soon as the ore was mined. It was Colonialism all over again, but with a Marxist smiley face on it."

"Pimp," said Mr. W. "I admit, TITO'S HANDMADE VODKA is pretty good, if that's where you're going with this."

"Not really, but I admire your warrior sprit."

"Tina says, 'WE'VE GOT TO BLOW JOB FOR WHAT WE'VE GOT / DOESN'T MAKE A DIFFERENCE IF WE'RE ACHING OR NOT' Now this is a woman who is being forced into sexual servitude just to survive. As a female in Soviet Russia her options would be pretty limited. She can be a whore or a mother, end of story: her life is defined by her vagina, nothing more. If you thought there was a #WarOnWomen here i the U.S.... And who does her subservience benefit? The Miners, the elevated economic engines of a state that is unwilling to provide for her. F**k the Russian overlords!"

"And the 'BABY THAT'S SO GAY' line? Russia has a brutal history of intolerance toward homosexuals: gay people won't support the regime either. A state that's powerful enough to dictate all economic activity is also powerful enough to dictate all social activity if it wants to. They are beyond Lumpen, since their personal lives can never be integrated into the state apparatus like the economic lives of Tommy and Tina. And Tommy has to WHISPER this, because he knows that Big Brother is listening to his private conversations with his wife, even LATE AT NIGHT. In all, Tina and Tommy must turn to religion to get them through, even in a regime that expressly outlaws it. LIVING ON A PRAYER, indeed."

"Um... right," said Dr. K. "Have another drink, and then we'll talk about football."

"OK. But you're buying, you privileged, doctorate-holding capitalist pig, you."


Ugh. To paraphrase the Wizard of Oz, "Suspensions and injuries and benchings: Oh my!" Back in the day, my college roommate was the goalie for the University of Michigan Scrub-- I mean Club-- hockey team. After two of the three future-pro goalies on the Big Club went down with injuries, he was a tweaked groin or concussion away from starting for a team that went to three final fours. Now he gives up five goals a game on a 30-and-older beer league team lovingly nicknamed "The Pylons." Even scarier, I think he's a tweaked groin or concussion away from starting at running back for the San Diego Chargers and/or Carolina Panthers. In week eight, Cam Newton might be handing off to a severed torso from "The Walking Dead" cast. HALLOWEEN TRIBUTE GAME!

With all the suspensions and injuries and weird four-guy committees, this has been a brutal year for running backs. Only DeMarco Murray and Arian Foster are in the top 50 non-kicker, non-QB MFL point scorers. An undrafted rookie coming in for a $12 million veteran? Sure! He scores three TDs and gets benched two games later? You got it!

Something called a "Matt Asiata" was prominently involved for a while. At first glance I thought he was fullback Leroy Hoard, who also wore #44 for the Vikes back in the '90s. Hoard famously told the coaching staff, "If you need one yard, I'll get you three. If you need five yards, I'll get you three." Now that's a Michigan Man! Get Brady Hoke and Dave Brandon on the phone, see if maybe he has some eligibility left! Also, "Asiata" sounds like a type of artisanal cheese bread. Why hasn't Scoobies made a sandwich in his honor? It would be a mediocre Grinder that will be a popular menu item for three weeks, then it would disappear forever. ZING!

Even the "always-start" options like Jimmy Graham, Calvin Johnson, and AJ Green have been felled by multi-week injuries. Maybe there should be an "Ebola-Level" IR slot? Deactivate a guy for 21 days? Percy Harvin should definitely be quarantined.

And the QBs haven't avoided the bug, either. EJ Manuel getting benched twelve games into his career? OK. For Kyle F**king Orton? Why not! No Jake Locker? Let's bring in Charlie Whitehurst, who looks like a 1980's inspirational painting of Jesus!


OK, that's an easy joke. I admit: I just wanted an excuse to link to Business Jesus.

But maybe Whitehurst was a False Prophet, because he just got benched for 6th rounder Zach Mettenberger. A Mettenberger sounds delicious! There's another new menu item at Scoobies: Dion, you're welcome. So what's a Mettenberger like? An 80/20 blend: just like a Roethlisberger, but with 80% of the talent and 20% of the rape allegations.

So Mettenberger went to school at LSU in Baton Rouge, a hard partying SEC school. My remedial French says that "Baton Rouge" translates to "Red Stick." And if the Zach Attack drunkenly tweets a photo of his Red Stick to the wrong girl, he'll be suspended and the Titans will be starting Zombie Steve McNair next Sunday. HALLOWEEN TRIBUTE GAME!


Going by points scored, the Pittsburgh Spears are a huge surprise, averaging 30+ per game. Most of that is Andrew Luck, who is putting up almost 10 all by himself. Despite that, the Spears have lost two in a row and Luck still has a bye coming, which will make it very difficult to make the playoffs. Two huge games against DC should decide the division, though Canton is lurking like Jason Voorhees watching two teenagers going at it in the back of a Lincoln Continental. After that there's a PPG logjam with DC, Missouri, Canton, and Chicago putting up 25ish per game. The Ravens are the clear winners here, managing a 6 - 1 record despite a gimpy Jamaal Charles, and they eked out a crucial win over Mizzou last week. It's too bad that "Blowshon" Moreno got hurt again and that Toby Gerhardt flamed out, or they would have a stranglehold on this b*tch, just like Ray McDonald.

Right now, I think the playoff teams will be:

Chicago Ravens
Gatlinburg Gunslingers
DC Dinosaurs
Missouri Peregrines (wild card)

I'm still liking the Ravens for the Super Bowl. Like Jesus, they are All Business, all the time.



So how did our Karaoke Boys' Night Out end, you may ask? It's hazy, but I remember pumping bass and flashing lights. After singing a few songs my throat got raspy and I started coughing and wheezing, which started a huge panic and cleared almost everyone out. THANKS, EBOLA THREAT LEVEL!

With the place to ourselves, Mr. W., Dr. K., and I started singing the sappy, embarrassing drunk songs you don't want other people to know you like. Like Elton John. HOLD ME CLOSE OH TONY DANZA. Then that popular FM radio song by Lorde. WE COULD BE MOYLES (MOYLES) / CIRCUMCISING PEE PEE. And we wrapped it up with a rousing rendition of the Golden Girls Theme song. THANK YOU FOR GIVING ME HEAD / TOUCHED MY SCROTE IN BENNIGAN'S / OH HOW YOU BLEW IN THAT DIRTY PARKING LOT.

Then we started talking football and it got a little dark. Because I'm an **shole.

ME: "So guys, why does Flint hope that Adrian Peterson gets reinstated? Because then they could finally beat somebody."

Dr. K.: "Umm..."

ME: "And how did Ray Rice's wife know he was cheating on her? Because she found another woman's lipstick on his knuckles."

Dr. K.: "Really? You're about two months late."

ME: "That's what the doctor said to your sister after Ben Roethlisberger raped her in a nightclub bathroom."

Dr. K.: "I'd suspend you for that, but you aren't going to write anything for the next month anyway."

ME: "#LoopHole!"

Karaoke is the Best.


The Purple Pimp

Sunday, October 13

Loving The Alien

I've been watching a good deal of A & E's "Ancient ALIENs" lately. You know, the TV show that says that every unexplainable human achievement was BECAUSE ALIENS? Pyramids? ALIENS. Biblical Plagues? ALIENS. Military Technology? ALIENS. America Electing a Black Guy Twice? A--

Wait, that's "Donald Trump's Illegal ALIENs, and a Sinister Muslim Brotherhood Cabal, For Real You Guys." Sorry about that. I get those shows confused all the time. Mostly because I'm constantly drunk and high on Krocodil, but also because my mind is clouded by ALIENS.

So what am I saying here? I think we need to seriously look at Peyton Manning, because I strongly feel that he is an ALIEN. Through five games, he has thrown a record 20 touchdowns. Two years removed from a catastrophic neck injury that left him unable to 1) grip a football, and 2) turn six inches to his left. Both of those are fairly important to being a Quarterback.

One possibility is that he went to Germany with Kobe Bryant to get his blood all centrifuged up. The other possibility is ALIENS.

That makes me wonder: with a performance like that, how are the New York Lynx 3-2? Well, MATH says that they are middle of the pack (except for their ALIEN QB), and they are stuck in a division with the only two teams that have scored more points. F**king MATH.

I hate MATH. MATH makes my head hurt. Kinda like a concussion. Speaking of which, instead of having pink penalty flags for Breast Cancer Awareness, couldn't the league use blurry, out-of-focus TV cameras for Concussion Awareness instead? I see a much more natural tie-in, for some reason.

In any case, Peyton Manning = ALIEN. In case you doubt me, here are some things that are YOUNGER than Peyton Manning.

  • Led Zeppelin's last THREE albums
  • Star Wars
  • The Seattle Mariners and the Toronto Blue Jays
  • Me, The Purple Pimp

I fell asleep during the seventh inning of the Dodgers' game last night, about 10:30ish. I can barely stay awake to watch a Monday Night football game anymore, let alone play in one. I wake up with mysterious aches and pains and bruises, and I'm not the one getting hurled to the turf by 300 pound D-lineman dozens of time a week. At least as far as I know. It might be like that movie "Wolf," where Jack Nicolson goes to bed every night, werewolfs it up, and runs through the forest ripping the throats out of deer til dawn. Only instead of getting to hang with Michelle Pfieffer and James Spader, I'm morphing into J.J. Watt's tackling dummy, which is much less glorious.

So yeah, Peyton Manning is definitely ANCIENT. He may be an ALIEN. So my thesis is proven; QED motherf**kers!


The Purple Pimp Presents: Teams and Players That Are Good at Football and Will Probably Be Good at Winning Football Games

Welcome to the first TaPTAGaFaWPBGaWFG of the year! With about a third of the season down, five teams have separated themselves from the pack. Because of the divisions they are in, only three of these teams can make the playoffs, so it's going to be an interesting ride.

1) Canton Cougars - It's a tough break with Julio Jones getting injured, but they still have the best receiver in football-- only he plays Tight End. Also, LeSean McCoy is putting in a strong case for MVP consideration. At least, he would have a shot if there weren't ALIENS in our midst. I mean, Peyton Manning took his chronic neck problems and magically gave them to David Wilson instead. How is that fair? Anyway, Canton is a deep, talented team that's all putting it together at once. They are good at football, and that's what it takes to get to #1 on the TaPTAGaFaWPBGaWFG.

2) New York Lynx - You're one of those people that skims the introduction and scrolls down to the bullet point list, aren't you? The Internet is the Best.

3) D.C. Dinosaurs - Congrats to James Bruney. First for getting married. Second (and most importantly) for trusting ALIEN medical technology. Last year, he let ALIEN Doctors operate on Adrian Peterson's knee. That worked out pretty well. This year, as the playoffs roll around, Gronk is the one to get beamed into the Mothership. The ALIEN version of Dr. James Andrews will wave his laser pointer scalpel around and blast him with healing energy rays. Then Medicine occurs. Funny enough, this is also how ObamaCare works.

4) Orlando Oracles - They've put up only seven points less than New York. With a non-ALIEN QB, no less. Drew Brees is one of the few guys I can think of that played well in college, busted out in the pros, then went back to being good when he joined a pro team that wears the same uniform as his college team. Black and gold is an oddly specific color combo, too; it's too odd to be random. We need Nate Silver to do a study on this. With MATH. If I owned the Jacksonville Jaguars, I would change my team colors to cream and crimson, and exclusively draft guys from Alabama. Maybe even give Rolando McClain another shot. (Bad phrasing. Sorry.) Come on, Shad Khan! You have the money to make this happen.

5) Miami Mafia - Aaron Rodgers is turning into 2007 Peyton Manning. You remember, "Cut That Meat" Peyton Manning? For at least a couple years, we collectively forgot that Manning was an elite player. He was on during the commercial break of every sporting event, selling us cars and LCD televisions at low low prices. He was part of our background noise, not someone we tuned in to watch and appreciate. It was only when he went away for a year that we realized it. That's the way life is in our media-saturated society; we need to remember to slow down to appreciate what we have and embrace each moment of each day. Enjoy each sunny day, as all they inevitably fade into the dreary dusk of autumn, then the harsh darkness of winter...*

*Rick Reilly is a front-page columnist for He also delivers human-interest features for ESPN’s Monday Night Countdown and essays for SportsCenter. His latest book is called "Pretending to Be Profound: Some Sappy S**t I Word-Vomited On a Page. And Also Sports. Yeah, There's Some of That In Here, Too. You Guys Like Sports, Right?" It's the perfect Fathers' Day gift that your dad will toss in a closet with those Jim Nantz books about the spirituality of golf and everything written by Mitch Albom, ever. Buy it now!*


The Purple Pimp

Thursday, December 20

Merry Pimpmas! A Super Bowl Preview by Special Guest Blogger Santa Claus

Ho ho ho and joyous Kwanzaa. To quote Admiral Stockdale, "Why am I here?" Well let me tell you.

My friend the Purple Pimp called me up last week and asked me to write his playoff preview for him. "Santa, you've gotta help me out," he said. "I've been on the straight and narrow for months. No tequila. No coke. No uppers, downers, screamers, or laughers. I go to church every week. Well. Temple. Or whatever they call it; I still kinda suck at being a Mormon."

"Every week? I KNOW when you're awake... Remember who you're talking to."

"Well, not EVERY week. But I did go to Salt Lake City and see the Tabernacle Thingy. And come to think of it, am I even allowed to talk to you? Are you sacrilegious? It's still unclear to me."

"Of course you can talk to me, homie. Think about it. I'm a white dude of European descent. I buy a massive amount of toys to celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ. I'm basically just a right-wing capitalist Bible nut. I even have a massive spy network to determine whose been naughty. I'm George W. Bush in a fur suit."

"I'm with you except for the last part. Actually Mormons are pretty paranoid about government spying. I think it has something to do with the government of Missouri trying to execute them all in 1838. And haven't you read Cleon Skousen, or heard about the NDAA or Agenda 21?"


"Anyway, Santa, I didn't come to argue politics. If I wanted to do that I would've talked to Krampus instead. That dude, beating you with sticks or dragging you to Hell if you don't get with the program. And his name anagrams to "Markups," which is undoubtedly a reference to Quantitative Easing and inflation, so he's probably Obama."

"You're just saying that because Krampus is black."

"First of all, yes. And second of all, stop changing the subject. My point, and I do have one, is that I need you to write my MFL preview. I'm on a different path now. But I'm also afraid. I feel that if I start writing about the MFL again, I'll start falling back into bad habits. Even thinking about the MFL brings up fond memories of getting tanked on Hennessey and trolling Dion on web forums on a Wednesday, or getting tore up on Lambrusco and shrooms during Monday night football, or that viewing party where I drank about fifteen martinis and started swashbuckling strange women with little plastic olive swords.

'Avast, me beauty! Now that is the finest pirate booty I have ever seen. Wanna make my Roger Jolly? I'll swab your deck if you walk my plank. ARRRRRR!'

I just don't think I can handle it, Santa. Santa with your nose so bright, won't you write my blog tonight?"

"I think you're confusing me with Rudolph."

"Oh! That makes sense... You don't have a shiny nose. Or join in reindeer games. 'Cause you're a person! The song makes so much more sense that way!"



So what could I do? I don't want to enable more bad behavior and pirate puns. And who knows? Maybe after a few more months the Pimp can ease back into the job, like when people get out of rehab and have to keep a plant alive for a year to show that they're responsible, then buy a pet, then eventually start dating again. (My entire knowledge of rehab is from that Sandra Bullock movie I saw on HBO at five in the morning in 2002. And I was drunk at the time, so I could be wrong.)

I don't mind writing the column, anyway. I have plenty of time for d*mn sure: I'm pretty much retired at this point. Nobody in America or Europe believes in Ol' Santa anymore, except for a couple hundred of those Cleon Skousen-loving f*ckers in Utah and a few dozen Hungarian Lutherans. Moms and dads decided years ago to start buying presents themselves, which is fine by me. More free time and less money spent building toys at the workshop. Win-win. Oh, I still visit parts of Latin America and Africa, but they always have civil wars going on. It adds a level of excitement since I have to dodge missiles whenever the sleigh gets near the No-Fly Zone and then rappel in and do some Tom Cruise Mission Impossible sh*t just to deliver fruit cake and gingerbread men.

And kick the Kony military guys in the nuts. Not because it's part of the being Santa gig, but because it's the right thing to do. I don't even leave those f*ckers coal, because you could burn that, and that heat has value. F*ck them. Then I go jack it in San Diego. Just kidding. I'm kidding. Seriously.

So what do I do with all this free time? Whatever I want, basically. Drinking forties and racing snowmobiles. Smoking pot and playing Call of Duty. Elf tossing. Vicodin and scotch and watching the Price is Right.

"You can't play the Cliff Hanger game for sh*t, you stupid whore! Guessing $280 f*cking dollars on that godd*mned popcorn maker? That's like forty nine bucks, tops. What kind of fantasy land are you living in, Quantitative Easing Inflation World? I'm glad the mountain climber fell off the cliff, I really am. He's plummeting to his doom right now, much like my faith in humanity. Yodel-ay-heeee! Oh well. Maybe you'll get lucky on the wheel and make the Showcase Showdown. I'd love to see that; I can't wait to see you guess $72,000 on a camper and a jet ski. My cousin owns both of those on he's on welfare. #fiscalcliff"

We also play a lot of paintball. A lot of paintball. A few years back the elves and I decided to build a massive replica of the first level from Metal Gear Solid. It's f*ckin' great! You haven't lived until you've zip-lined over the rampaging elf horde-- dodging fire the whole time--, rushed their semi-automatic paintball turret, seized control, mowed down three dozen of the f*ckers, unzipped your snow suit, and jerked off on their "corpses." The last part isn't really necessary, just a little house rule we have. After the game, Mrs. Claus makes us cocoa and pot brownies. The people covered in the least amount of semen eat first: I call it First Come, First Serve. Get it?

They say Christmas comes but once a year, but Father Christmas is known to come a lot more often than that. Ho ho ho.

Being able to do crazy sh*t is the major advantage of living in the North Pole. Sure the weather sucks, but the only neighbor within a hundred miles is Super Man, and he pretty much keeps to himself. I guess it would be a pretty ineffective Fortress of Solitude if he had people over every night for a Luau, now wouldn't it?

Speaking of which, on the weekends, we like to have a few friends over and watch the MFL. Or at least I pretend to watch the MFL; mostly I just tune in for the cheerleaders. Especially this time of the year, when they're dressed up like me, in slutty red fur-lined suits.

Oh, baby. You're a naughty Santa, aren't you? I'll slap you with my candy cane and rub tinsel all over those titties. Pour some egg nog between your legs and -


get you an officially licensed Halo 4 Master Chief action figure. Because you have been really trying this year. I know it's tough being a big brother and the man of the house now that dad's moved out. You're doing a good job, little buddy. Santa will be happy to put you on the Nice list.


Sh*t, that was a close one. That Mrs. Claus, always sneaking up behind me when I'm on the computer, like some sort of computer porno ninja. Last year I got her a necklace with jingle bells on it ("it's festive") just so I could surf youporn in peace. After six hundred years of marriage you'd think she'd be cool with my Asian schoolgirl foot fetish, but apparently that's the line she's unwilling to cross. Drugs and alcohol? Yes. Screaming obscenities at The Price is Right. Yes. Jerking off on elves (it's a dominance thing, not a sex thing)? F*ck and Yes. Jingling my bells to Sailor Moon cosplay? Surprisingly off-limits.



So the first thing that jumps out at me about this game is that both teams entered the league at the same time. Kinky. Maybe the league's down for some DVDA. You like that, don't you MFL? The Iowa Hawgs made the playoffs their first year and came within a whisker of beating the eventual Super Bowl champs. Then they fell into a funk while the Miami Porpi built some excellent teams that couldn't quite get over the hump.

Hehe. Hump.

Great names, huh? The Hawgs became the Wheelers. Presumably this is because Flint had an auto industry back in Old Timey days, and is not a tribute to the moving vans that went from Iowa to Fort Wayne and then to Flint in just six years. Honestly, the name reminds me of the Wheelers from the third "Wizard of Oz" book. Cyborgian monstrosities with wheels for hands and feet, who were immortalized in that "Return to Oz" 80's movie as a bunch of 50's style greasers that will turn into Tron cycles to travel hundreds of highway miles at breakneck speeds to date-rape you, like some sort of dystopian Robo-Roethlisberger. Pretty hot!

Miami became the Mafia, because... um, it's Bad Ass, I guess. The Mafia was never a huge part of Miami culture or anything; maybe a little bit when Cuba was one big gambling resort and Fredo was watching donkey shows with Johnny Ola. But that was 60 years ago, not in 2K7. Probably a "Sopranos" thing. It's like when "Jurassic Park" was big and Toronto named their basketball team the Raptors and made their mascot a ball-handling dinosaur with sweatbands. If Miami's mascot were a roided up James Gandolfini snapping a football like Pat the Patriot, then I might respect that, and would definitely have them as the favorite.

As it is, it's pretty evenly matched. So here are the keys to the game, and /or sh*t I just feel like babbling about:

QB: Advantage Fort Wayne

Brees vs. Rodgers!!! This is like watching an episode of "Chopped" where two super high-end chefs match up and it's hard to find fault with either of them. Then Aaron Sanchez says that the perfectly cooked veal cutlets lacked a Molē spiciness, and Alex Guarnaschelli is like "the plum compote needs more salt," and finally Ted throws his arms up and is like "the judges feel you didn't use enough of the Mystery Basket Goat Penis."

Rodgers has been a little off his game all year, so I give a slight nod to Brees. But it isn't like Rodgers will cut himself trying to shell a lobster and bleed all over his plate, getting an automatic DQ. This will be close.


Speaking of "Chopped," these guys are a Mystery Basket. On paper, LeShoure and RunDMC are awesome. But you have to match them with other ingredients. Like the Christmas-themed "Chopped" that Mrs. Claus and I watched the other night. The mystery basket included fruitcake. Now, fruitcake is the sh*t's tits. It's the reason that I'm so rotund, er... "jolly." But it's pretty d*mn hard to incorporate a fruitcake into a seven-ingredient five-star meal.

It's already cake and candied fruit and nuts and brandy. Add it to a salad or a stew, and it's pretty f*cking useless. By itself, it's great. The Lions and Raiders throw the ball too much, so mixing Fruitcake in there doesn't work. Bryce Brown is an MFL starter because the Eagles are so godd*mn awful, all they can do is shove fruitcake down your throat. Maybe they should change their name to the Philadelphia "Mrs. Claus' Cooking." ZING!

--Oh sh*t, she's reading over my shoulder, isn't she? F*ck. Come on, honey, it was a joke! I swear! Stupid computer ninja... Guess I'll be sleeping on the couch and won't be stuffing her stocking anytime soon. Maybe I'll just do some hate-masturbation to photos of Chef Amanda Freitag licking a spoon or something. Spooooooooooooge!--

Anyway, Chris Johnson is like one of those gourmet fruitcakes made by monks that cost $15 a pound. He's so good that you use him as croutons in clam chowder and he still can be decent. At the end of the meal you're like, "I can't believe I paid fifteen f*cking dollars when I could barely even taste the godd*mn fruitcake amidst the clams and crème fraîche and f*ckin' curry (because they always put an Indian chef on there to be all big city ethnic-fusion cuisine and sh*t)." But the fruitcake's still there, and probably will get six points for the Miami Gandolfinis.


I don't see how Greg Jennings and James Jones could be more alike. They're 6-foot, 200lb small-school speed guys drafted a year apart by the same team. Is this something from "The Prestige"? Or are they like the kids in "Parent Trap" where they trade places once in a while, just like the Manning brothers? Sh*t, Peyton is gimped up and sucks, while Eli is on top of the world. Let's change it for a year and see if anyone notices. Maybe that's what the Bruneys did: I thought D.C. was a contender, not Flint.

I had a whole thousand words about this, but then f*cking Dave had to ruin Bruney Bowl for me. Thanks, d*ck.

And speaking of "The Prestige": theoretically, if you made a clone and then f*cked him, would that be considered gay, or would it just be masturbation? I wonder. Theoretically. Because I'm interested in Theory. Not because I have the elves working with David Bowie Nikola Tesla on a clone machine, mind you.

I love me some me.

TE: Advantage Miami

Remember when a Tight End was a big lumberjack-looking guy who stayed in and blocked? And it was a minor surprise whenever he’d run a five yard buttonhook in front of the bewildered middle linebacker? Oh snap! Moosejaw Boudreau actually caught it for a first down! Holy anus on a Triscuit! Yeah, those were the days. Then we got Tony Scheffler H-back types who were just bigger wide receivers that didn't help much in the run game. And then there's Aaron Hernandez, who is a f*cking manhorse.

Hell, if I could get the fertility drug from "Junior," I would have Aaron Hernandez's baby. Think about it; he'd be half Schwarzenegger Santa, half Awesome Football Star. He could spend one day a year flying on a sleigh delivering presents and broken-English one-liners, and the rest of his time catching touchdowns and getting sweet tattoo sleeves. Sh*t! This is the best idea I've had since the Flying Reindeer Joust. Get the elves on the phone; we're converting Santa's Workshop to Santa's House of Experimental Fertility Drugs (and Also Roofies, since I doubt Aaron Hernandez is willing to do this).


Quarterback, Halfback, Tight End: those are all references to where the players line up. But "Kicker" refers to what the guy actually does. I like it; it makes it easy for the casual fan to figure out. Sorta like that game "Draw Something." What do you do in this game? Ah, I see. When I was a kid I had the patience to learn the ins and outs of a complex video game, but now that I'm older my attention span isn't nearly as sharp. Which would I rather play, "Draw Something" or "Skyrim"? I mean, what’s a Skyrim? Is it a person, place, or thing? Is it a sex move? I bet it's a sex move. Maybe I'd play it if it were called "You're a knight-looking guy so press your X button to hit things with your sword or if you are a wizard lady you can press Y to shoot fire and eventually you get special dragon magic so then you can press the upper right button and are all like ROAR ROAR ROAR PEW PEW PEW," but unfortunately I don't think that title would fit on the box.


All-in-all, I have this game as a push. (Oh Baby Bay, Bu-baby baby. Push it. Push it real good. Da-da-da-da-da-da da-nah-nah-nah.) But obviously that can't happen. Or can it? It's 2012! Mayan Apocalypse and sh*t!!!

Assuming we don't explode in a cosmic fireball, I like Miami to win it on a Dan Bailey kick as time expires. Because who doesn't like a little Bailey's to cap off a winter holiday weekend? Expect Dave Wills to Irish Cream in his jeans over the win. He's Irish, right? Or... Wait... Is he like Tom Hagen, or like Henry Hill in "Goodfellas" where he can be part of the Mafia but can never be Made since he's not full-blooded Sicilian? Or... sh*t! Joe Pesci gets whacked in that film. Pesci translates to fishes, and that's pretty similar to Porpi. (Yes, I know they're technically mammals. But I'm on a roll here.) Are the porpi getting whacked this weekend? The Detroit auto industry is affiliated with Teamsters, and those guys know how to do some whackin'. Jimmy Hoffa. Allen Dorfman. Whackin'. Whack-a Mole. Whack-a-Molē. F*ck you, celebrity chef Aaron Sanchez!

Santa needs to re-think this.

In any event, it's been fun writing this column for you. If you don't like it, then just remember: I can see you when you're sleeping, which is an opportune time for Santa to choke a poor fool to death.

But Whatevs; the holidays are a time of forgiving, even if you're totally and unequivocally wrong. So I exclaim to you, as I log off this night. Merry Pimpmas to All, and to All a Good Night!


Santa Claus

Wednesday, September 26

I'm Sorry I Pooped on Your Statue

Dear friends, family, fellow citizens, and people who have followed my recent arrest and incarceration through the media and Internet (especially you, RichardSm0ker69: your pithy YouTube comments got me through this lonely time indeed.); Dear ladies and gentlemen of the jury, members of the media, and the Honorable Harold T. Stone, presiding:

Per the advice of my attorney, in accordance with the law and customs of Michigan City and the great state of Indiana, it is with a heavy heart that I must offer an apologia.

I'm sorry I pooped on your statue.

In my defense, I must stress that it was not my intention to poop on said statue. I mean, what sort of lunatic would set out to do such a thing? It isn't like I have a bucket list and "Poop on the Washington Park Civil War Monument" is on there, right below "Swim with Sharks" and right above "Sky Diving." Certainly not my intention.

To uncover my true motives, you must consider a few key points.

1) First, let's define our terms. What is a statue, anyway? The monument at the entrance to Washington Park commemorates the heroic effort of thousands of soldiers and sailors during the darkest days of our Republic. Did I in any way mean to desecrate the memory of those brave men? Of course not. Desecrate America? Hell no!

The bronze figure at the top? You know, the one with the bad-ass flaming fire sword of fire? She's called "Victorious Peace," and is an abstract representation of Freedom and the Triumph of the American Way. According to the artist, she's swinging that fiery fire sword to vanquish our Divisions and Intolerance. Maybe if it were a statue celebrating Division and Intolerance, then yeah, maybe I'd poop on that, possibly while wearing a Guy Fawkes mask. But I would never poop on Freedom!

Also, please keep in mind that the statue is fifty feet off the ground. There are far better, more accessible places for me to poop if I were so inclined. The World War I monument, for example, is only thirteen feet high. It's also more out-of-way, which makes it perfect for a clandestine poop-and-run. If there were a statue I wanted to poop on, that would have been a much better choice.

Really, the only reason I was on top of the big monument in the first place was to get away from the tigers.

2) For my next point, let's consider the act of pooping. Do people ever really WANT to poop? Not really. It's kind of gross and unpleasant: I'd rather not have to do it at all. Especially since they opened the "Jamaican Me Crazy" Caribbean restaurant down the street and I've been eating extra spicy jerk goat three meals a day for the past two weeks. I think it's even spicier on the way out than the way in, somehow.

I even nommed down a jar of those Fiber Choice tablets to try to get regular again (you know, the ones that look and taste like giant chalky SweetTarts), but it's to no avail. It's like a poopalanche: everything is calm on the mountain for days at a time, but once it gets going, there's no stopping it. You just need to send out a St. Bernard with a flask of brandy around its neck a couple days later to look for survivors.

Not my favorite pastime. And when you consider that really, I didn't so much poop on the STATUE as poop on MYSELF while I was CLIMBING the statue, you must ask yourself: What sort of person wants that? To dangle precariously from the Flaming Justice Sword of a fifty foot bronze liberty statue; white Bengal tigers nipping at your heels; blasting a jerk goat poopocalypse on yourself, the police, and the paramedics below; all the while babbling gibberish about how it's Whitey's fault?

Let's just say it wasn't my finest moment.

And, finally, let's consider this mitigating factor: I was extremely drunk on hand sanitizer.


See, it all started on a hot August day. Let's call it August 25 for the sake of being accurate. The Indianapolis Colts were playing the Washington Redskins in NFL preseason, and I couldn't wait to see Andrew Luck and RGIII face off. It took some doing, but I was able to convince Dr. K to take time off from his medical practice to join me in Indy. I also was able to convince Mr. W. to take time off from his Mistering practice, as well. We were All In Threes, like the Three Floyds, the Three Amigos, the Three... well, you get the picture.

Mr. W. was in rare form during the car trip. At one point, some fixed-gear-bicycle riding hipster in a stocking cap (it's August, you tool!) and a Japandroids T-shirt blew through a stop sign and I had to jam the brakes to avoid blasting him all over the pavement.

"What's the matter, Pimp? Didn't see that guy in your peripheral vision? You couldn't turn your head twelve degrees to the right, huh? For the duration of this trip, I shall call you... Peyton Manning."

On the replacement referees vs. the normal officials: "It's like your girlfriend decided to cut the tip off the condom instead of just poking holes in it with a safety pin."

And when we drove by a grade school that was promoting their annual "Sausage Fest" fund raiser, he made an hilarious but unprintable Jerry Sandusky joke.

It made for a fun trip down, and when we arrived at Lucas Oil Stadium, I was pleasantly surprised. We got a parking spot just a few blocks away, and it was free! Something told me this must be my lucky day.

"This must be your lucky day!" exclaimed Dr. K.

We walked to the stadium, giddy with excitement.

"I am giddy with excitement," said Dr. K.

"Wow! It's like you're reading my thoughts. And also six years old. Are you psychic, and did you play football without a helmet in high school?" I asked.

"No. But I think those Pez I found in your back seat might be rancid or something."

"Oh sh*t! You ate the bath salts-- I mean... the Pez. Yeah, the Pez. You'll be okay, little buddy. Just think of the rabbits, and living off the fat of the land."

"OK, George."

Why were there bath salts on my back seat-- and not in my belly-- you ask? See, I've been listening to Glenn Beck a lot lately and toying with the idea of voting for Mitt Romney this November, so I decided to try the straight-edge Mormon thing for a while. So instead of getting totally ripped on weird non-FDA approved chemicals and Jack Daniels in the car, I was tossing back 8 ounce mini-cartons of grade school cafeteria Vitamin D milk instead. It was better on my driving, and milk has calcium in it and helped with the jerk goat irritable bowel stuff, so yeah, maybe the Mormons are on to something.

But when we got to the stadium, I was the one who wanted something stronger than milk, maybe some "Pez." You see, the Stubhub user I bought my tickets from neglected to tell me that the game was taking place in Landover Maryland, 595 miles, 10 hours, 23 minutes away. (I Googled it.)

Dejected, I sat on a curb with my head in my hands, suppressing a crying jag.

"You look dejected, suppressing a crying jag," said Dr. K.

"Yeah, little buddy. I guess I f**ked this trip up."

"It's OK, George." Dr. K. gave me a sloppy hug. He sang. "I love you. You love meeeeeeeeeeee. We're best friends as friends can beeeeeeeee... Get it? You're wearing purple, so you're like Barney the dinosaur. And I'm wearing green, so I'm like your best friend lady triceritops that has a pink bow in her hair. Baby Bop? Something like that... I always wanted a pink bow in my hair, but society's strictly-defined gender roles dissuaded me from doing it. I mean, I like the vaginas but I like the pretty bows too... I hate society's judgment... But I love you, Purple Pimp."

"Thanks, Dr. K." I was regaining my mojo. "Let's make the most of today. Let's take this bull by the horns. When life gives you lemons--"

"Let's have a lemon party!"

"Err... something like that. Only not. Let's go to the casino instead." So off to Michigan City we went.

On the way, Dr. K. was intently texting on his cell phone. I figured he was sending crazy bath-salt-influenced poetry to Jodie Foster or whoever but the reality was much worse: he was beckoning my new nemesis.


I met him in the bathroom. Not a Jerry Sundusky joke.

Things at the casino were dead. I was losing money like crazy, and not even having a good time doing it. Blackjack wasn't working for me, and I still can't figure out craps, other than the fact that it has "crap" in the name and you can place a "come / don't come bet," which makes me laugh like Beavis every time. This sucks. Is this how it always is? Wait, Maybe when you aren't drunk or high, the casino is kinda boring? Then what do Mormons do for fun? Help their fellow man? F**k that. I excused myself and headed to the restroom.

Mid-pee, a scrawny, Mark Titus -looking mofo walked up to me. "Are you the Purple Pimp?"

I ignored him, since I've been served a number of restraining orders and subpoenas by answering that very question.

"No, seriously. Being an MFL blogger is like being a cop. If I ask you, you have to tell me. It's the law."

"Actually, no. No, it's not. But it's nice to meet you, Club Trillion Chronic Wasting Disease. How's the Spongiform Encephalopathy treatin' ya? " (I'm an assh*le when I'm not drunk.)


Well then.

"It's cool. I'm one of Dr. K.'s friends. You can call me Whitey."

"Not an expert, but DAMN THAT'S RACIST!"

"No, not "Whitey." Those are my initials. Y.T. They call me [inaudible]."

I think he said Bug Rifler, or Dung Waffles, or something like that. Honestly I didn't care. At one point I think he said it was Young M.C. However, this was not the gentleman who requested that I Bust a Move back in 1989, so I think I mis-heard him. Later, I asked Dr. K. to clarify but he was in full-on Bath Salt mode at this point-- probably with a flip-top Reach toothbrush head if you asked him. Sorry about that, Little Buddy. And I hope you kids heed this warning and never eat bizarro candies off a stranger's back seat.

"A stranger's back seat" is not a Jerry Sandusky joke, I swear.

Anyway, back to our story: Mr. W. was CRUSHING it at the Blackjack table, and Dr. K. was dancing shirtless on top of the bar to the music in his head. (I told security that he was The Gronk, so it was cool.) I was bored out of my skull and wishing the Blue Chip took bets on things like "Number of dudes I could punch in the head before security gets here." Whitey must have noticed my melancholy sad-face.

"Cheer up, Pimp. Why don't I buy you a drink? #PIMPJUICE"

"No thanks, bud. I'm doing the Mormon thing and avoiding alcohol today. Mormons rock. They are devoted to humanitarian aid. Why, did you know that since 2001 the Church of Latter-day Saints has made donations of more than 300,000 wheelchairs in 101 countries? This is not a burden but a blessing, for "when ye are in the service of your fellow beings ye are only in the service of your God" (Mosiah 2:17)."

"Errr... OK. I guess I figured you'd be more fun to party with. #DISAPPOINTED. Wait, I think I've got it! Mormons can't get drunk on whiskey... But you know the bathroom we were in earlier? The book of Mosiah is silent on the matter of ingesting hand sanitizer. #LOOPHOLE."

"Hrrrrm... are you sure you aren't the cartoon devil that appears on Donald Duck's shoulder?"


"Hand sanitizer it is! Let's do this. LEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEROY JENKINS!!!!!!!!"


And so, citizens of Michigan City, Jurors, Your Honor, Bull Shannon, Markie Post, friends, family, et. al.; let me reiterate that I am sorry for pooping on the statue. It was not my intent, and I am truly sorry.

All I remember after that point involves stealing a motorcycle and ramping it over the zoo fence after hours; hearing the exotic birds mocking my wipeout landing; releasing the snakes and reptiles to silence them; then realizing that I had a sh*t-ton of giant snakes and reptiles roaming unsupervised and that I had to take swift, decisive action. That was when I built a make-shift bridge over the moat to the monkey habitat so they could help me hunt them.

Apparently I didn't learn the lesson from that "Planet of the Apes" documentary*, because they soon overwhelmed me and went on their own rampage.

*How was I to know that movie was factually accurate? The actor who played the monkey was Andy Sirkis. Circus monkey? Come on. How is that not made up? Before you know it, the letters in the Federal Reserve Chairman's name can be rearranged to spell BANKER. Wait, what? Ben Bernanke's full name anagrams to "He's Nobleman Banker." So, um... Errrr... Alex Jones and a tin foil hat, stat!

So what is someone to do to combat a rampaging horde of damn, dirty apes?

Mother. F**king. Tigers. That's what.

I planned this part out, sorta. I thought about releasing the bears, but they're pretty un-tame-able. I saw "Grizzly Man." No thanks.

Lions maybe? Nah. They would probably be like Matthew Stafford and do really well for a couple mauling sessions and get drafted high in the mauling fantasy league, then injure some obscure muscle so Feline Shaun Hill would have to come in and be significantly less effective at mauling things.

What about tigers? Bingo. I like tigers. They are bad-ass. I also read the "About Our Animals" info plaque on the cage and saw that one of the tigers was a female named Zena. I have a housecat named Xena, who is the cuddliest cuddlestick best little baby cat-friend in the world, so I figured that Tiger Zena and I'd have a similar rapport.


It was only after opening the cage that I realized my error. And so, after running faster than Usain Bolt (anagram: "Blue Stool Stain"), I found myself dangling from your city statue. I must admit, it is a fine statue. Not to butter you up, but if I were to commission a statue, I'd present yours as an example to my sculptor-architect guys as the epitome of the thing to sculpt-architect.

I wasn't hanging from the statue because I wanted to statue-hang (the new Tebow-ing?), or because I wanted to disrespect the FREEDOM it stood for; it was because Baby Zena was trying to maul me and I had to climb out of mauling distance.

The same with the pooping. Not intentional; sorry about that.

Also, FYI, the monkeys slung way more poop than I did. They're like nature's little fecal cannons or something. When they eventually take over the world, reality TV programming will be pretty poop-centric. Replaced with "Celebrity Throwing Poop at Donald Trump," "Crap on The Bachelor," and "Here Comes Honey Poo Poo."

For now, if you guys want, I can help you round up the snakes and reptiles. How hard can it be? Give me a net and some rubber gloves and I'll give it a try. The monkeys would assuredly throw feces at me and I don't know how I'd handle that. But I can give it a shot if it means a lighter sentence. I mean, I'm a giving person. I'll give of myself to make things right with you.

Ultimately, I throw myself on the mercy of the court. If you could let me go with some community service that would be great. I would like to be a good Mormon and spend several hours servicing the community.

You know who else spends hours servicing the community? #YOURMOTHER

Whoops! I apologize for that; I've been spending time with a bad crowd. You know, the type that twitters.

Anyway, please be a bunch of Uncle Jesses and have mercy. I mean, he was on General Hospital and sells Greek yogurt, so you know he is a voice of Prudence and Wisdom. And if you could get me out of the hoosegow by week four so I can blog again, that would be cool too.


Thank you again for your consideration, and have a great day!


The Purple Pimp

Friday, December 23


The title says it all: I should just leave the column blank.

But I won't, since I may be wrong. And if I don't provide evidence to back it up then people will start talking. Readers will wonder if I'm really analyzing and predicting, or if I'm just lobbing darts at a dartboard or having Gwildor the trained spider monkey pick the games. Or lobbing darts at Gwildor the trained spider monkey. (He's so cute when he dodges like that.) And if the Pimp doesn't provide witty analysis, you say, then why should I bother reading the blog page instead of searching the Internet for bestiality centerfolds and Betty White nip-slip photos?

In fact, I was at Sundays' MFL playoff viewing party when a young man asked me, “Hey Pimp: why should I bother reading the blog page instead of searching the Internet for bestiality centerfolds and Betty White nip-slip photos? You haven't even written anything lately.” First, I explained tabbed browsing to him. Really kid, you can do both at the same time: it's called multitasking. CTRL+T, b**ch. You could have Googled that in about three seconds but didn't, and I am chagrined by your lack of initiative and can-do spirit. That's why we're losing all our manufacturing jobs to China.

As for the second part, um, yeah. I haven't written much lately. I wish I had a good retort, but the truth is that I'm just like you: I am very lazy.

So lazy that when I need to microwave something for five minutes, I could very easily hit the “+one minute” button five times, but instead I'll just hit four-four-four and then enter: it saves me a keypress. And why 4:44 instead of five-zero-zero, which makes more sense? Because I'd have to move my finger to a whole 'nother button, that's why. That sort of thing leads to repetitive stress injuries and arthritis, and I will not be spending my Golden Years with a mallet finger just because you want your Hot Pocket heated all the way through, you ungrateful bastard.

Luckily the Chinese Purple Pimp isn't very good at MFL analysis so I'm outsource-proof for now.


So let's talk about the game, then, huh? It looks like it will be a tight contest that will go down to the Monday night game. I'm actually planning a viewing party if you feel like stopping by, but unlike last week's party it will not be at the Purple Pimp Mansion. Things got out of hand after David Stern found the psilocybin I had stashed in the vegetable crisper, then started dipping his balls in people's drinks and saying their cocktails were hereby voided for “basketball reasons.” Then Jeannie Buss hiked up her skirt and “salted” the commish's margarita, which I'd never seen a chick do before and was quite frankly fascinating and terrifying. It took a lot of politicking on my end to smooth things over, and I don't think I can deal with cleaning another mess up again now that I'm out of psilocybin and Sam Hurd stopped answering his pager.

No, this party will be at the electronics section of Wal-Mart. We're going to grab some recliners from the furniture aisle and Coleman coolers from sporting goods and chill in front of seventeen big screen TVs. If the employees hassle us we'll tell them that we're there for Green Tuesday-- you know, December 27, the biggest shopping day of the year. Black Friday and Cyber Monday are soooo 2009, amiright? Hey, David Stern, can you believe this guy? Not knowing about Green Tuesday and sh*t. N00b.

And then I'll get back to surreptitiously drinking scotch from a Vernor's ginger ale bottle and go to town on a delicious Jimmy Johns sandwich.* (Hey, if Simmons can shill for Subway and get them to fund his website, then maybe the MFL should get in on the endorsement game, by gum!** And speaking of buying gum, have you tried Big Red lately? Delicious, nutritious, full of fiber. Give your taste buds a cinnamon flavored orgasm with the official gum of the MFL***, Wrigley's Big Red.)

*Sorry, Dion: Jimmy Johns paid us more.
** Using copious footnotes is also part of the website branding strategy, though I don't understand how. Maybe I'll ask Chuck Klosterman.
***Speaking of fantasy football, I hate it when ESPN considers a player a “linebacker” or “defensive back.” I play in IDP leagues, so I need to know if he's eligible at outside linebacker, inside linebacker, corner, or safety, you insensitive twat! It's like when 311 put out the album “Music.” Yes, I know it is music: I'm buying this thing in a f**king music store. Tell me what kind of music it is, or the themes of the album, or at least how the songs are all fond remembrances of how you were fifteen and tripping balls on peyote and having a picnic with centaurs under a bridge and then got a handj*b from a jabberwocky in the alley behind a Motley Crue concert. Calling it “Music?” It's like when the protagonist drinks “BEER” brand beer in a movie too low-budget for product placement deals. Had “Music” actually been handy-cam footage of Peter Falk and Bea Arthur fighting with broadswords, then I would have been impressed by how clever the title was.


Anyway, here is the breakdown. Like Sean Connery said in The Rock, “Losers always whine about their best. Winners go home and f**k the prom queen.” And like Nicolas Cage said in real life, “He robbed my Fudgesicle.” (Seriously, if you didn't get that reference take a few seconds and click over to It is significantly weirder than anything I could make up. I'll wait.)


Matt Ryan vs. Tom Brady

Speaking of Nic Cage, who named his kid Kal-El after Superman, it's the battle of two QBs with four first names combined. Well, I guess “Brady” counts for one-half; it's one of those trendy traditionally-a-last-name-but-I'll-use-it-as-a-first-name-to-make-my-kid-stand-out names, like Austin or Cooper. With these kids starting to matriculate into the MFL like Colt McCoy and Landry Jones, we'll soon be overwhelmed by douchey-named Brosephs. What ever happened to traditional names like Bill and Bob and Jim and Gartrell and Montavious? Anyway, Slight Advantage: New York.

Running Back

LeSean McCoy and Ray Rice vs. Arian Foster and Reggie Bush

That's more like it: names I recognize. Ray, Reggie, and LeSean are the names of saxophonists who might have toured with Prince back in in 1984, not this naming kids Blake and Turner bullsh*t. Though I admit that “Arian” is a little weird, and it makes me think of Hitler. If New York wins, I think they should change to brown uniform shirts and refer to themselves as the “Arian Nation.” Intimidating? You bet! The Oakland Raiders have nothing on the Fuhrer. Advantage: Canton

Wide Receiver

Calvin Johnson and Julio Jones vs. Hakeem Nicks and Jacoby Jones

… And here's the big mismatch. CJ might well be the best receiver in football right now, and Hakeem Nicks capped off a disappointing year by dropping two touchdowns last week. Meanwhile, Julio Jones' elite speed makes opposing corners look like Super Mario. “WTF D00d?!” you may be asking yourself, since apparently you talk to yourself in the same tone of voice you use to troll web forums. But chew on this: when he isn't stomping turtles on the noggin, Mario sort of sucks. In every game Bowser rolls his troops into the Mushroom Kingdom, kidnaps the Princess, and then HAS ENOUGH TIME TO BUILD ELABORATE BOOBY-TRAPPED CASTLES before Mario springs to action, presumably decades later. Meanwhile, Jacoby Jones, another of the last-name-first-all-stars, is not an all-star at football. Big Advantage: Canton

Tight End

Jimmy Graham vs. Rob Gronkowski

Two of the league's breakout players going head to head: should be great. But why is a player with a Polish / Jewish last name starting for the Arian Nation? Fuhrer-- er, Coach-- MaWhorter has a lot to learn about institutionalized racism. It's like how journalists are going gaga about Andrew Luck being the next Peyton Manning, even though the current Peyton Manning might not be finished yet. No matter how you good you are at footballing, there will never be another Peyton Manning. And no matter how good you are at genociding, there will never be another Hitler. Slight Advantage: New York


Mason Crosby vs. Steven Gostkowski

They are both really effing good and will score a lot of points. One is named Mason, but I'll ignore it. Advantage: Push


Chicago vs. Baltimore or San Francisco

Devin Hester is dinged up which will hurt Canton's return game, and the ballhawking Balto/SF defenses get to play against the greatness of Seneca Wallace and Kellen Clemens. (Seriously, what the f**k, Naming People Police?) Advantage: New York


So there you have it. This will be another compelling, hard fought Super Bowl. Call it Parvo Bowl, call them LOLCats, but one will emerge as the true Beast of the East. In a slugfest, I like the Canton Cougars to prevail 33 – 29. As the clock ticks to zero, jubilant players will rush the field and douse Coach Tim Jones with a bucket of Wild Stallion energy drink, official orange vitamin beverage of the MFL. The Commish will hand the MVP trophy to Matt Ryan, who will mug for the cameras and say, “I'm going to the MFL's favorite theme park, Land-World-Land: the Namiest Place on Earth.” Arian Foster will realize the error of his ways and change his name to Tolerance and Understanding Foster, but go by “Jack.”

But then again, what do I know? I'm just a kid with a dream.

And a spider monkey. And lots and lots of darts.


The Purple Pimp

Sunday, October 9


First of all, let me pay tribute to Al Davis, one of the most influential people in American football history. Not only was he instrumental in merging the AFL and NFL, making aggressive passing and reckless defense a bigger part of the league; not only did he sue the NFL in 1982, putting anti-trust and other lawyer stuff on the table that let teams threaten to move and bilk tax payers out of billions of stadium funding; not only did he popularize sweet black and silver Starter jackets, which I may or may not have owned during my Pretending to Be Ice Cube and Knocking Over Liquor Stores phase; but he did it all while being a cranky curmudgeon who wore satin running suits because WHY THE F**K NOT. THAT SH*T IS COMFY.

In honor of Al Davis and NWA (not Northwest Airlines, the other one), I present “The Al Davis Rap Tribute.”

I'm Al Davis / I owned the Oakland Raiders
We wore all black / Bad-ass like Darth Vader
Your teams got erased / We punched you in the face
Got crazy superfans with spiked pauldrons and a mace

F**k Pete Rozelle / I was born to raise hell
Drafted cokeheads and thugs / Who ran really well

I'm Al Davis / I owned the Oakland Raiders
F**k all you player haters / Dressed up like fancy waiters
Bury me in black track gear / You thought I was crazy
But who's laughing now, queer? / 'Cause I just won, baby!

(Mad Rapper: hit me up. We'll go double platinum with this sh*t.)

So R.I.P. Al Davis. From what I hear, the family plans to bury him in Oakland, sue to move his body to a newly renovated cemetery in Los Angeles, then move him back to Oakland years later.


1) Hank, bro, what's up with playing the Hitler card? For an older southern guy who thinks “Angry Birds” is what his Rowdy Friends call their disapproving wives after coming home from a Sunday tailgating and gulping moonshine from Mason jars, it certainly sounds like he's a veteran at trolling web forums. It would have been easier just to post a link to “Obama's Official Job Creation Web Site” and make it point to 2 Girls 1 Cup. So now I guess the official Major Broadcast Network Football Song belongs to to the lovely, talented, and noncontroversial Faith Hill, who would never do such a thing. In fact, I bet her computer is full of pictures of her husband and kids, and maybe a Favorites menu that includes Jesus, Guitar Center, designer boots, and LOLCats.

2) Speaking of JC, I feel bad for Tim Tebow. People like to rip on him just because Jesus is his co-pilot. Well, sh*t, Jesus is my co-pilot too: I have Him ride shotgun and steer after I've gotten obliterated on cognac and am leaving the club at 4 AM. Between you and me, Christ is not that good at driving and tends to veer into oncoming traffic. But then again, He grew up 2000 years before there were cars, and I don't think He even has a license, and oh-- He also died for our sins, so I think I'll give Him a little slack.

3) Drafting a lightly-regarded rookie who turns into a fantasy stud is like listening to an indie band before they get big. In the preseason I snagged Denarius Moore for $100K in a league with a $60 million salary cap. It feels like I've been circulating his untitled EP on cassette tape (because mp3s are too mainstream and easy) and now I see him on the cover of SPIN, proving my fantasy football / indie rock cred. Denarius Moore makes me want to wear a tight-fitting green plaid shirt and Buddy Holly glasses while listening to Fleet Foxes and smoking research chemicals at an abandoned warehouse party.

4) On the flip side of that, I was totally wrong about Cam Newton's quarterback skills. I figured he would be Vince Young 4S. We had Vince Young 1.0-- “OH SH*T IT'S VINCE YOUNG,” college Vince Young-- who was ground breaking. He took all the things we loved about Kenny Stabler and Randall Cunningham (the Mac, the iPod) and brought it to the next level. Pro Vince Young (iPhone 3G and 3GS) was disappointing, but by 4G (2010 post- Kerry Collins Vince) we learned to accept its limitations and root for its strengths. I figured Newton would be the Vince Young 4S-- the exact same thing as Vince but a little faster and more powerful. But Cam is iPhone 5 or even 6 or 7.

If there is one thing I've learned about football over the last few years, it is “Don't text pee-pee photos to impress girls you don't know.” Not really relevant here, but worth remembering. If there is a second thing I've learned, it's that elite quarterbacks win titles. Missing on Newton makes me feel extremely stupid and embarrassed: it's like when I threw Amanda Knox's welcome home party at Perugino Restaurante Italiano's “Murder Mystery Night.” I guess what I'm trying to say is Great Job, Arkdale!

Anyway, that's it for now. R.I.P. Al Davis and Steve Jobs. But remember: Death always comes in threes, so unless you count Amy Winehouse we've got another one coming. And before you put down money on Keith Richards (-500) or Sean Connery (-200), remember that they are the “public teams,” like the Packers or Patriots. You get much better odds if you go with a Jimmy Carter (+500) or even ol' Hank Williams, Jr. (+2500). And since some dirty lefty Wall Street Occupier might decide to Occupy Hank's eye socket with a crude shiv made of recycled Mother Jones magazines, I think we have a solid bet there. (And if you're really bold, tease that with the reality show “Casey Anthony's Day Care” becoming a real thing (+700).)

Until next time...


The Purple Pimp

Friday, December 17

Playoff Preview: By the Power of Grayskull, Grab Your Bag: It’s On!

My least favorite random corporate slogan this year has to be SouthWest Airline’s “Grab Your Bag: It’s On!” This was part of a promotion they started called “Nuts About SouthWest,” which features a photo of a 6 ounce foil package of in-flight peanuts being busted open and shooting into the camera, which in the advertisement presumably is your eye. They were all like, “We’re hip and edgy. Our ad has a double meaning. On the one hand we’’re talking about you carrying on luggage: on the other we’re talking about you cupping your genitals like a gangsta rapper. And check out this photo of a delicious snack you’ll get on the plane. But guess what? It’s also a photo of DEEEEZ NUTS IN YO MOUTH!”

Needless to day, this did not work at all. I was so upset, I wrote them a strongly worded letter.


Dear SouthWest,

Please do not waste my time making jokes about genitalia. That’s MY job. Get back to what you’re good at, like giving me cheap tickets to Vegas and not flying the plane into the side of a mountain.

Yours Truly,

The Purple Pimp


But people are always doing things that make no sense. For example, I grew up watching Saturday Night Live. As a baby, I’d fall asleep as the giant wood console TV with the rotary dial and the bunny ears antenna blasted out the latest Belushi and Ackroyd masterpiece, my parents laughing their behinds off, probably while drinking some Colt 45 and smoking funny cigarettes. (My parents were much cooler when Carter was president.)

Steve Martin was always my favorite guest host. He was a Wild and Crazy Guy, he was King Tut. He did monologues with a fake arrow through his head and played the banjo while deadpanning about banging Morgan Fairchild. I didn’t know what banging or Morgan Fairchild were, but I knew it sounded AWESOME. Steve Martin was my hero. Then when I was eight years old I found a hard back copy of his 1979 book Cruel Shoes at a garage sale. I immediately purchased it and was speechless.

Scratch that: this was certainly the first time in my life that I swore. WHAT IN THE SON-OF-A-WH**ING C**K F**K IS THIS S**T?

See, Steve Martin decided to write a book of artsy, postmodern short stories full of social satire but devoid of humor. Talk about misunderestimating his audience! Much like Blue Oyster Cult’s “Don’t Fear the Reaper,” which exponentially increased my fear of the Reaper, this book was a failure.

The lesson I learned from this is: find what you’re good at and do it to death. Don’t deviate, don’t reinvent yourself. Or like the Ghostbusters said, don’t cross the streams. If you start the night with Jack and Coke, don’t slow things down with a couple Guinness and three gin and tonics and then do tequila shots out of a stripper’s booty hole. Smoking chronic might be okay, but throw meth and salvia into the mix and you’ll soon be eating out a knot in the hardwood floor because the Floor Knot Elf Queen promised to tell you who your real parents are if you make her ding. (Spoiler Alert: Man-E-Faces and Evil-Lyn from “Masters of the Universe.” Orko watched, due to some hilarious magic trick gone wrong that blundered open the bedroom door. Also, he is sort of a perv.)

So being the Purple Pimp, I had to test the limits of this theory. Not because of the scientific method, but because I’m sort of stupid. So in college I wrote an academic paper analyzing Dr. Dre’s “B*tches Ain’t S**t.”



HYPOTHESIS: Ladies are not squat. They are loose women of questionable morals and / or prostitutes. This song was written by “Dr. Dre” Andre Romelle Young. He is not a medical doctor, so he must have a Ph.D., probably in literature.


1) Women lick on these testes and fellate me. I leave afterward because I do not want to engage in conversation.

2) I used to know Eric “Eazy E” Wright. We would drive in our car and have sex with these women. Seeing each other’s dongers was OK because we were in a band, and double teaming prostitutes is the sort of team building exercise that increases band morale.

3) These women later engaged in oral relations with other men in exchange for money. This is different than when we paid them for sex. They cannot survive on the street alone.

METAPHOR: Eazy E is like these women because he did what our manager and record label wanted in exchange for more money and preferential treatment. I did not do what they wanted because I am stubborn and sort of a c**k. This broke up the band.

SNOOP DOGG PART: Snoop Dogg had his heart broken: his girlfriend cheated on him with his own cousin while he was in prison. As a result, he killed everybody. He is Snoop Dogg, so this is not only acceptable but somehow a good thing.


As the narration fades into the dénouement, one of the “b*tches,” Jewell discusses aggressive fellatio techniques and how she “don’t give a f**k.” Though regrettable, the struggle for survival overwhelms the b*tches’ adherence to societal norms and moral behavior. This is exactly like Blake’s mystical-visionary "The Tyger". The poem is about the question that most of us asked when we first heard of God as the benevolent creator of nature. "Why is there bloodshed and pain and horror?" The Tyger is a relentless predator, an unstoppable destructive force that is the opposite of the gentle kindness of the Lamb. But still, is it really "evil" for a tiger to eat a lamb, or is it just part-and-parcel of our world?

“What immortal hand or eye, Could frame thy fearful symmetry?” Tigers inspires a certain horror and a sense of awe, that we are in the presence of a transcendent mystery at the very heart of creation-- and a certain terrible beauty. Or, as Snoop Dogg might say, “Don’t hate the playa: hate the game.”


Cringer was a little wuss cat who was afraid of everything, even Orko. And Orko sucked worse than, well, the things Jewell describes in the dénouement of “B*tches Ain’t S**t.” But due to circumstances beyond his control, Prince Adam got the Power of Grayskull and turned Cringer into BattleCat, a fearless warrior who also is a Tyger. Tygers are bad-ass: BattleCat will murder you even faster than Snoop if you bang his girl while he’s in the muthaf**kin county jail. So is Cringer “good” and BattleCat “evil?” Or is the Power of Grayskull “evil” for changing him? The Power of Grayskull lets He-Man BattleCat defeat Skeletor, which is a “good” thing, so that can’t be it. Maybe things just Are.

Looking back on it, “He-Man and the Masters of the Universe” was probably the first Saturday morning cartoon that successfully combined theatrical naturalism and an Émile Zola-esque sense of determinism with the romantic mysticism of German Sturm und Drang. This was embodied best by Man-E-Faces, an actor / superhero who was simultaneously an emotionless robot and a passionate ape-demon thing. At one point a magic potion brought out his ape-demon side and compelled him to help Skeletor fight He-Man, so at various times he was “evil” and “good.”

Also, he had sex with your mom {{citation needed}}


Obviously, this was an A+++ paper and was inducted into Bill Simmon’s Sweet Academic Paper Hall of Fame Pyramid, along with “Statistics Are For Losers: We Just Win Football Games” by Raheem Morris, Esq. and Jaaaaaaash Freeman.*

*”Bill Simmon’s Book of Sweet Academic Papers” is now available in paperback at a bookstore near you.


Changing gears... This year’s MFL playoff teams know who they are and play to their strengths. They stay out of the Cruel Shoes Zone.

All four teams match up well against each other, so this will be fun. Though it will be a little odd because they each do the same thing well, all run the same game plan: pound the football with the running game. New York has Vick, Foster, and Jammal Charles, Chicago has the Forte / Mendenhall / Stewart / Tolbert four headed monster. Iraq has BenJarvus Green-Ellis, Peyton Hillis, and a frisky Christopher Ivory, and Pittsburgh has...



Like Sesame Street told me, One of these things is not like the other.

Pitt is the complete opposite: Drew Brees led the MFL in TD passes, the receivers are good, and K Matt Bryant finished as the MFL scoring champ. The runners are horrific. If it weren’t for the midseason acquisition of Lynch, they’d be the worst rushing team in the league. On one hand I applaud them because they know who they are: they don’t try to rely on Mathews, Lynch and Shonn Greene-- if those dudes sniff the end zone it is a bonus. But it also makes them the most vulnerable, since a big day by an opposing RB will end them. Although they are the #1 seed, I like them least to win it all. Perhaps their running game was what Derek Anderson was laughing at.

Meanwhile, Iraq has the Law Firm and the D-Bag Clothiers. Really, doesn’t Peyton Hillis sound like a store in the mall where you pay ninety dollars for a sweater? And Chris Ivory has been on fire since he started going by “Christopher Ivory,” which is definitely the name of a designer label with some sort of elephant-framed-by-an-African-sunset logo. They also have WR Austin Collie, which is either a women’s college in Rhode Island or the name of a dude who would wear some Peyton Hillis jeans and a Christopher Ivory hooded sweatshirt to a frat party.

KEY MATCHUP: Drew Brees vs. Joe Flacco. Brees usually tosses it but has had a few games where he “manages the game” and doesn’t put up any points, handing it off to popped collar and puka shell necklace enthusiast C Ivory. Flacco does the opposite and is willing to work the clock and only throw when he has to, but a coupleß times they’ve gotten into shootouts and he’s held his own, slinging it around for three or four scores. If Brees doesn’t have a big day or if Flacco keeps up, then Iraq will win this one.


The Chicago Ravens got the monkey off their back, won the division, and even beat up arch-rival Missouri twice. Heh, I remember back in 2001 when then- Kansas coach Roy Williams reached the Sweet Sixteen after weird let-down collapses the last few years. He opined “We had a big monkey on our back, and we reached up and jerked him off there!” Keith Olbermann, who at that point was an hilarious sports anchor instead of a serious political bloviator, rolled the clip and opined “If I say what we’re thinking, we’d all be fired.” Anyway, I like Chicago’s runners but their QBs are awful. Maybe Coach Bonk will make things interesting and turn it over to Jaaaaaaaash Freeman. Although Jaaaaaash is not about statistics, so Chicago’s sorta effed either way.

On the other hand, New York somehow got it done this year due to a guy his college team nicknamed “Fumbles Foster,” and a dude who goes by the alias “Ron Mexico” and was recently released from federal prison. Huh? Spin my Inception totem: this cannot be real. Fumbles Foster sounds like a bad guy from the Warren Beatty “Dick Tracy” movie where Madonna cut her hair in order to look like a whorish Marilyn Monroe. And I think Ron Mexico is an “actor” on one of those POV adult web sites where the brah talks to the camera all the time about how totally rad it is to bang a college girl, right on it’s all good, brah, and totally ruins it for me.

Wait-- I got it, this is a fever dream where everyone is in your Grandma’s basement eating jam thumbprints and talking Russian, and there’s a chalkboard and suddenly you’re teaching a college physics course, but when you look up every student is Flavor Flav. In this scenario Mike Vick is really an undercover FBI informant and there will ultimately be some crazy Last Boy Scout sniper assassination stuff going down on the field.

Or maybe I will be going down on the field, due to the salvia. The Floor Knot Elf Queen said she’d reunite me with my Dad-E-Faces, this time for reals...

KEY MATCHUP: Matt Forte vs. Arian Foster. They get it done between the twenties, but will they find the end zone? When their teams get close they tend to look for their wide receivers or bring in a change-of-pace back who scores. They’re both big play guys, and if someone breaks one it will open up a very tight game. Forte has a big advantage as a receiver, so that might be the difference.


So I like Iraq and New York to duke it out for the title, with New York a slight favorite. A Lynx is sorta like a Tyger, so that will be my pick. (In case you got here late, Tygers are bad-ass.) But wait, Scraps make me think of Scrappy Doo, who was a dog, and Snoop Dogg is also bad-ass like a Tyger. And Mike Vick does not get along with dogs, so just maybe... Wow, my head really hurts thinking about this. Time for some Colt 45 and Saturday Night Live re-runs. Then I’ll get the Sterilite Ten Gallon Tote of He-Man action figures from the garage and break out The Chronic. Then I’ll break out The Chronic, the album by Dr. Dre. I love playoff time! By the Power of Grayskull, Grab Your Bag: It’s On!


The Purple Pimp

Tuesday, October 12

I Reject This Reality and Substitute My Own

It takes a person with impeccable self-honesty and strength of character to admit when he’s wrong. I am not such a person. For example, strippers have stolen my wallet more than I’d like to admit. But does that stop me from getting private dances in the Lil Darlings Champagne Room? Of course not. At the very least I should get a wallet chain, but do I? No way, Jose: I don’t want those dancers to think I’m a Juggalo.

Another example: this MFL season. Just a few weeks ago I figured that Canton would be undefeated. Just a few weeks ago I thought LaDainian Tomlinson’s career was dead. Just a few weeks ago I figured the best Peyton was Manning, not Hillis. Just a few weeks ago I thought Ben-Jarvus Green-Ellis were the dudes representing the soon-to-be-Ex Mrs. Purple Pimp in her quest to get half the Purple Stuff.

Just a few weeks ago I had no idea what Brett Favre’s dong looked like.

I like my version of reality better.


This reminds me of a conversation I had a few weeks ago with my bud Michael “The Situation” Sorrentino. As always, our discussion centered around boobies and ripped abs, but somehow it took a metaphysical turn.

The Situation: Rock hard abs are good, brah!

Me: Indeed. But isn’t it weird that we don’t have ribs all the way down our body? I mean, they protect your lungs and heart... why don’t they protect your stomach and intestines? If you’re out on the Savanna and some velociraptor rips open your stomach, you’re going to die, same as if he slashes your lungs out.

The Situation: I envy your grasp of evolution and the basic prehistoric timeline-- velociraptors? Seriously?-- yet I have to disagree. No ribs make you more flexible, so you can gather food and duck away from, um, the-totally-not-existing-at-the-same-time-as-people-velociraptors. You feel me, brah?

Me: But what if we put our stomachs in our chests, too? We’d have all the benefits of flexibility, but none of the drawbacks of having raptors claw out your guts and totally ruin your $#%&. Also, we’d have gigantic boobs.

The Situation: Boobs are good, brah.

Me: Heck yes! Ever since 1492 when George Washington shot Genghis Khan with his laser sword and rode his velociraptor across the Bering Strait to found America, our country has been dedicated to the three B’s: Boobs, Beer, and the Ben Folds Five. Having stomach breasts is the American dream, really.

The Situation: And you were a History Major?

Me: George Washington also punched a cherry tree in the face because it looked at him queer, but that’s not related to the point I’m making right now...

The Situation: And again with the velociraptor? What, are you twelve and just seeing Jurassic Park for the first time?

Me: Dude! The velociraptors in Jurassic Park were so cool that they managed to kill Samuel L. Jackson, and he was Shaft, and survived those serpents on the aircraft. ENOUGH IS ENOUGH! I HAVE HAD IT WITH THESE MFing VELOCIRAPTORS IN THIS MFing DINOSAUR THEME PARK!

The Situation: Um... yeah. I do not accept your larger hypothesis. However, The Unauthorized Biography of Reinhold Messner was one hell of an album, brah.

Me: Well, I guess we both feel that, dogg.


But really, I prefer my reality. How cool would it be to have boob-stomachs? You could take your wife to Old Country Buffet every night for a month and she’d transform into Christina Hendricks. Alternate Favre would be sexting not Jenn Sterger, but ESPN’s Shelley Smith. You could eat an entire pizza during an MFL football game and stare awkwardly at yourself in the mirror the next day as if you hadn’t seen giant stomach boobies in two months. (Come to think of it, the last time was when THAT HARPY CINNAMON STOLE YOUR WALLET AND RAN UP EIGHT GRAND ON YOUR AMEX CARD. Maybe you should go to Hot Topic for Juggalo Gear after all.)

So I guess my point is, as Ben Folds once sang, “Alice, the world is full of ugly things that you can’t change.”

While Pete Rose is getting his bat corked by a jailbait Korean PlayBoy bunny, Tony Gwynn gets diagnosed with parotid cancer. Its the same kind of rare throat cancer MCA from the Beastie Boys came down with a year ago. And yet Fred Durst is still alive and “rapping” and making sex tapes... Oh, and doctors have no idea what causes this type of cancer.

It could be environmental, so the Cuddle Bear fabric softener you use on your MFL licensed Slanket (the blanket with sleeves) (TM) could be slowly killing you. Cancer Juice could be in the air, the food, the water. Heck, this cancer could be completely random, so think about that when you try to sleep tonight. Steven King once had a nightmare about parotid cancer. However, the dream was so scary he decided NOT to write a book about it.

Luckily, from our sample size of Tony Gwynn and MCA, I surmise that the risk of getting this cancer seems to proportionately increase with how awesome you were in the early 1980’s and me having your poster on my wall as a kid. So you’re probably OK.

Unless you happen to be Batman or Stringfellow Hawk. And if you are, I’m flattered that you’re reading my column right now. And also, you’re f#$%ed.



Fort Wayne at MISSOURI
DC at Orlando (DC is in CAPS not just because its an abbreviation but because it is also my PICK)

For as good as LDT has been, the favorites should win these games handily so let’s talk about something else. Intentional or not, Jon Bruney changed his team’s abbreviation this year from IOW to the Internet Meme FTW (“For the Win”) this offseason. I’m not sure how much that will translate into actual Ws, but new mascots Dramatic Chipmunk and Cigar Guy should help.

Along the same lines, there’s a gentleman running for Congress in my district this year named Richard Pfeill. I volunteered to make an online town hall website for him, but I insisted on calling it Pfeill Blog. I did not hear back from the campaign, for whatever reason.

Iraq at CANTON
CHICAGO at Arkdale

All four of these teams should be in the playoff hunt until the end. Cedric Benson’s bye week will be just enough to tilt that game in Canton’s favor, while the Ravens’ running backs will be tough to beat. I love Forte and Mendenhall this year: if women followed the MFL like they follow celebrity gossip, US Weekly would make them a power couple and call them “Fortshard” and have a derogatory name for their backups like “Stwortis.”

When I win the lottery I plan on creating an LLC called “The Scrooge McDuck Money Bin Foundation.” I will then donate my winnings to zoos worldwide, just so there will be plaques in public places saying things like “These Beluga Whales Are Made Possible Due To a Generous Gift From the Scrooge McDuck Money Bin,” and little kids would think to themselves, “wait a minute, is that a real thing?” When I win that money I will also make sure there is something tabloids call a “Stwortis.”

NEW YORK at Miami
DOWAGIAC at Pittsburgh

I’m lumping these two games together for one reason: head coaches MaWhorter and Russo compete in another fantasy league that counts not only individual defensive players, but also individual special teams guys. Last week, Dion played the team who had Tennessee’s Marc Mariani. With two minutes left, Mariani broke free for a fantasy-deciding kickoff return touchdown, only to be hauled down from behind by the kicker. On the next play, Missouri Peregrine Chris Johnson scored to win the game against the Spears. I think we see who has Lady Luck on his side.

If it were up to me, it would have been like the Buffalo Wild Wings commercial where they use sprinklers to put the game into overtime, but instead with velociraptors cruelly murdering Dallas kicker David “Ferris” Buehler before he could make the facemask tackle. No hard feelings, man, but rather than tackling that dude you should be playing hooky at Chez Quis with Cameron and Sloan and pretending to be Abe Froman, the Sausage King of Chicago (Sausage King of Hattiesburg is apparently taken).

Reality stinks: I like my own version better. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to drink complimentary Moet et Chandon with my fiancee, Shelley Smith, and if I’m lucky maybe get a handy onto her ginormous stomach-boobs. But in your world, I’ll probably just shotgun a quart of cough syrup, get my wallet stolen again at Lil Darlings, and SMS Jenn Sterger photos of my Stwortis.

Living the Dream, baby. Living the Dream.


The Purple Pimp

Wednesday, September 8

Purple Dranks Are For Pimps, I Guess

Its hard to believe that it's been nine months since I last wrote about the MFL. People ask me, "Where were you, what were you doing?" Let's just say that, in retrospect, sipping Purple Drank with JaMarcus Russell was a bad idea.

But let's start at the beginning. I was running late for my flight to Miami for last year's Big Game, and the "All Christmas Music, All the Time" FM radio channel wasn't helping my mood. Now don't get the wrong impression; I like Bing Crosby as much as the next guy, but when I sprung ten grand to retrofit 7.1 channel surround speakers into my Dunham Coachworks Cadillac Eldorado, I figured the HD radio wouldn't conk out at the first sign of snow and only tune in the grainy analog der Bingle singin' bout Jesus being born channel. Partly my fault for not charging the iPod, but really, HD receiver? I guess its ironic since a dead analog channel is called "snow," and actual snow causes my digital channels to die. It would have been even funnier if the only song I got was 1992's "Informer" by Canadian reggae musician Snow, from the album "Twelve Inches of Snow," but sometimes life isn't fair or funny.

...Informer, you no say that's who I'm gonna blame a licky boom boom down...

Anyway, I barely had time to call my bookie and put in my picks for the Duluth Club Team Presents Winterfest nine match semi-pro water polo parlay, then wolf down a quick Cinnabon in the airport terminal. After sprinting to the gate for boarding, my stomach let me know that the pre-flight Cinnabon was a bad idea. The thing that really p***es me off most about post 9-11 security isn't the metal detectors, or having to put Listerine in little 3 ounce containers, or even having to remove my belt and making me feel like the subject of a General Larry Platt ditty: it's the restrictions on food and drinks on the plane. I mean, I understand that I can't take my loaded Desert Eagle on the plane anymore (I could do that before, right?), but not being able to carry on ten Cinnabons and wash them down with a quart of scotch makes me feel that the terrorists have won. It also increases the chance that I'll buy every d**n one of those mini liquor bottles off the beverage cart.

Which I did, of course. Actually that was pretty fun, since seeing the tiny bottles in my hand made me feel like some sort of giant. After five or six I was all like "RAWWR! I am Drunken Shrek on a bender! Hey... Wanna hear a joke? Why is Pinocchio so popular with the ladies? Because they sit on his nose and scream "tell me you love me!" Get it? Cause he's lying... What did Cinderella say when she got to the ball? GAG! ..." For whatever reason, the mom of the six year old sitting across the aisle did not find this nearly as funny as I. Ultimately I think it was my impression of Eddie Murphy in a Tijuana Donkey Show that made her call the stewardess, which is why we made an emergency landing in Atlanta. Officially they said the stopover was due to snow flurries, but unless their radar navigation system was designed by the same dudes that built my HD Radio, they were just looking for an excuse.

Also, the plane took off again without me.

I should have know something was up when I was the only one to de-plane. (The stewardess said we had two hours and there were free Cinnabons inside. "Oops we baked too much," my eye.) So I was standing inebriated at Cinnabon, sick to my stomach, having missed my flight, no luggage, no money, no gun, and most importantly no more booze; the crooning sounds of Bing Crosby's "White Christmas" blaring from the PA, echoing like fire ants crawling through my aural cavity, marching past my ear drums and burrowing into the depths of my brain, deciding then and only then to give me a heapin' helpin' of stingy, venomous, red-bottomed alkaloid pain. That's when He appeared, like a 6-foot-five-and-a-half, three hundred twenty pound guardian angel, only if guardian angels wore Oakland Raiders jerseys and guzzled Hennesey from a repurposed Capri-Sun juice pouch. Needless to say, JaMarcus and I became fast friends. He taught me valuable life lessons, like how to falsify a codeine prescription, and how a waking coma makes you kinda enjoy the latest Animal Collective CD. It wasn't until August when I woke up next to the animatronic Big Bad Wolf in the Little Red Riding Hood house at Deer Forest that I decided to turn things around.


Anyway, I'm clean again, or at least clean for me. Only booze, salvia, Adderal, Mr. Smiley, and whatever coolness Paul Gray OD'ed on from here on out. And now its time for me to get back to writing about the MFL, the most addictive drug of them all. And unlike Tha Drank, it doesn't make me want to listen to atonal indie music and hibernate for six months in a petting zoo in Coloma Michigan. So without further ado, here are my things to watch this year.


  1. Missouri
  2. Arkdale
  3. Chicago
  4. Fort Wayne

Mere moments after shocking the world on his last minute Super Bowl winning score, Adrian Peterson found out he was traded. He joins Chris Johnson in what could be the greatest collaboration of guys-in-their-prime since Lennon and McCartney. For you younger readers, think "Amerikaz Most Wanted" Tupac and Snoop Dogg, or Ted Nugent and Tommy Shaw in Damn Yankees. (In this case, Miles Austin is a workmanlike presence like Night Ranger's Jack Blades / George Harrison / Warren G.) Their quarterbacks are unproven, though, and Arkdale is lurking. The Varks abandoned their "Peyton Manning and a bunch of inexpensive guys" gameplan, and now have a solid roster front to back. If Missouri stumbles at all, Arkdale could ride new arrivals Steven Jackson and Ronnie Brown to a division title. Chicago has a solid lineup that lacks explosion besides Forte, Mendenhall, and David Akers, and didn't do much to improve besides adding Mike Sims-Walker in a trade. Fort Wayne added Manning at a bargain price, but it will be year or two before they surround him with enough talent to compete. LaDanian Tomlinson? He's like the US economy: stellar from 2002 - 2007; a little bloated and slower moving by mid 2008; and ready to completely collapse in 2010. We need to get him on HGH and whatever vodka / Vicodin / horse steroid mixture they have in the water back in Hattiesburg so he can make a proper comeback and skip trainging camp every year.


  1. Canton
  2. Pittsburgh
  3. New York
  4. District of Columbia

Canton is clearly the class of the league. Jones-Drew / Rice isn't quite as good as Missouri's tandem, but they have two great receivers and a solid Matt Schaub. Their trade for Kaeding puts them over the top, since he will give them a consistent two to three more points per game, plus one "Mark Chmura night" where he'll bang seventeen. As long as the main guys don't get hurt, Canton will roll. The rest of the division is up for grabs. Pittsburgh needed a franchise runner to team with Drew Brees and took a big gamble on Ryan Mathews. I think their receiver play puts them just ahead of New York, who made an impressive trade for Frank Gore and Space Ghost. Just a year from expansion, D.C has three solid runners and a great young QB: they could compete for a division crown in the West or Central, but in the East they'll be a .500 team. I think that the three non-Canton teams beat up on each other and the Wild card will come from the Central. Oh, one more thing. The other day I noticed that you can re-arrange the letters in "Dion MaWhorter" to spell "Doin' Whore Mart." Not that has anything to do with where these teams finish, but it is my duty to inform you of that fact AS A JOURNALIST. Also, if they opened a Whore Mart nearby I would totally shop there. But stay away from the Blue Light Special: you could catch something.


  1. Miami
  2. Iraq
  3. Dowagiac
  4. Orlando

I like really like South Bend / Iraq to win the wild card. (Is Tekrit near a south bend in the Tigris river? That would make things easier to remember.) But Aaron Rodgers is one of the five best quarterbacks in the league, and Miami compliments him with three excellent receivers, good depth, and an elite kicker. I'm not sold that Michael Turner will have a bounceback year, but Beanie Wells and Willis McGahee should stumble forward into the end zone often enough to win them the division. Dowagiac and Orlando are improving but don't have the talent to compete week to week with these two. Dowagiac's runners could break some hearts down the stretch, but they won't be a consistent factor... Speaking of Willis, after watching a Gary Coleman retrospective followed by "The Other Guys," I realized that the two brothers from Diff'rent Strokes happened to have the same names as John McClane and the Governator (Bruce WILLIS, ARNOLD Howeverthef**kyouspellit). I'm not sure what that means, except that Gordon Jump would have been shot square in his g**d**ned face before he had a chance to molest Dudley in the Very Special Episode.

(Fade in, Mr. Drummond's AWESOME PARK AVENUE APARTMENT. It is significantly more AWESOME than Arnold and Willis' old digs in Harlem, because Mr. Drummond is RICH AS F@%K. Also, he is WHITE. It is CHRISTMAS. BING CROSBY is singing WHITE CHRISTMAS and s**t.)

Mrs. Garrett: Joy to the world! It is so great to celebrate our first Christmas together! Don't you think so, Willis?

Willis: What the f@$k you saying, lady? I'm just a cop from New York. I got invited to this party by mistake.

Kimberly: Willis... Your language is... uncouth.

Willis: You listen to me, j**k off, if you're not a part of the solution, you're a part of the problem. Quit being a part of the f@$ing problem, b**ch!

Mr. Drummond: Willis! Language!

Sam McKinney: I am precocious, and have red hair.

Mr. Carlson from WKRP In Cincinnati, in a weird-ass role that traumatized me for life: I own a bike shop. I'm going to show you dirty cartoons and molest your friend in the bathtub now. Wo ist meine Hose? Ich möchte ein sandwich Dudley und Arnold!

Willis: F@$k that! Get ready to die, Hans. (Pulls his GUN) Yippie kay yay, MisterDrummond.

Ahnold: Vhat ah you talking about, Bruce Villis? GET DOWN! GET IN DAH CHOPPAH!


OK, maybe the Purple Drank hasn't completely worn off yet. I should probably avoid shady characters at airport Cinnabons for a while. Good thing Super Bowl XIII will be in Chicago, only a short, carry-on liquor-friendly South Shore ride away. The game will probably be played-- featuring Mason Crosby rather than Bing Crosby-- in twelve inches of snow. I can hardly wait.


The Purple Pimp

Tuesday, November 10

A Big Gulp of Brain-Crushing Awesome

So Halloween came in its traditionally fun, sticky, scary way, much like ESPN's Steve Phillips on a 22 year old intern. For those of you still in a Halloween state of mind, I highly recommend the film "Trick or Treat." The concept is simple: Halloween has tradition that you have to follow. Never go out alone, never blow out the Jack-O-Lantern before midnight, be generous giving out candy. And if you don't, bad spririts will spill your entrails on the pavement til it looks like a Jackson Pollock painting.

As I attendeded Halloween parties these past few weekends, I have to say that I Fear for America's Youth. Halloween costumes also have rules: 1) Men dress like Zombies or Batman, or Zombie Batman. (Chasing Zombie Heath Ledger, no doubt.) And 2) Women dress like a Slutty Monster or Slutty Profession. Slutty Devil, Slutty Vampire, Slutty Werewolf, Slutty French Maid, Slutty Nurse, etc. It's easy for an 18 - 35 year old girl to find a costume as long as you have a bustier and some fake blood. Maybe some devil horns or a fantastic wig to round things out. But this year the girls decided to mail it in, dressing up like Slutty Reality TV Stars. So you get Slutty Paris Hilton, Slutty Heidi from the Hills, Slutty Courteney from Dorm Life: people who are only famous because they are slutty, and have nothing else interesting or remarkable about them. There aren't any horns or cat ears or barbed tails to let you know what the costume is-- it's just a girl looking slutty. Maybe if you engaged her in conversation she'd tell you, "Didn't you see the episode of The Real World when blah blah blah wore this outfit when she blah blah blah threesome in the canoe?

Why yes. Yes I do... remember... that. How could I forget. (Question Mark!?!)

Really, where's the creativity in that? You could just make up any story and throw that "threesome in a canoe" part and I'd just nod my head and pretend I know what you're talking about. Because heterosexual men don't watch Reality TV; we're just happy that we can see your vagina through your costume. But sometimes I want a more creative costume. Something that makes you think a little. And there's nothing sexier than a woman with brains. Unless its a woman in a Slutty Mad Scientist costume with brains-in-a-jar, which she later uses as a melee weapon when Zombie Batman takes too much peyote at the party and starts showing everyone his Bat-a-Rang.

Not that I should judge: I showed up in normal clothes, no costume, and started asking random women, "Hey, I left my mask at home. Could I wear you on my face instead?" Damn, I'm smooth.

Anyway, after the past few weekends I was partied out and crashed the best way I know how: by watching MFL Football all day Sunday! The weather was unseasonably gorgeous, so I set up camp on the sun porch to enjoy the fall day. There's just something about stretching out on wicker furniture on an autumn day that feels wrong but yet so right-- it's like smoking a joint in public or peeing outside. It's like you're playing blackjack with The World and decide to split tens on a whim, then improbably win both hands. On this glorious day I was accompanied by my five best friends: four 40" LCD TVs and a 5 liter box of Peter Vella White Zinfindel. Love the boxed wine: on a dollar-per-ounce basis it works out to be the same as what you'd pay for a 7-11 Big Gulp of Mountain Dew, only its a Big Gulp of brain-crushing awesome. The TV lineup was pretty straightforward: three tuned to the most compelling games, the Ocho, the Nueve, and the Diez, plus the MFL's new Red Light Channel (the name Red Zone Channel was apparently taken by some other sports league). Unfortunately the Red Light Channel is not about the Red Light district in Amsterdam, which is why I mistakenly TIVo'd 43 hours of it, but it does show the MFL's scoring plays and highlights, so its got that going for it. Which is nice. Here are a few observations on how things played out in Week Nine.

#1) At roughly 12::32PM The Spears and the Mafia took the field for their pre-game warmups. After getting a Jack-Del-Rio-esque waiver from the league, Miami Mafia coach Dave Wills looked focused, sharply dressed in a four thousand dollar Italian virgin wool suit. His counterpart, Nate Russo, was half asleep, wearing a hideous rumpled Hawaiian shirt and sweatpants combo, combined with sandals and socks. He also had a fantastic case of bed-head, making him look like a cross between Wayne Fontes and a Dragon Ball Z cartoon character. When asked about the nattily-attired Coach Wills by a sideline reporter, Russo responded in a whiskey-soaked growl, "Virgin wool suit? I'd rather use the four grand on hookers and booze, and wear clothes from animals that f**k around." At that point I called my bookie and bet the Mafia +3 / Michael Turner Over 10.5 points parlay. In completely unrelated news, I'm adding a gold-leafed, diamond-encrusted swimming pool to the Purple Pimp Mansion.

#2) Since Miami-Pitt got ugly in a hurry (at one point it was 39-0), I kept my focus on the Ravens-Lynx matchup. They had similar records going in but I see them going in opposite directions; New York has been clicking but Chicago has been dinged up and just can't capitalize on their opportunities. Aside from their kickers, the highest scoring Raven this year is Carson Palmer, 28th in the league, and they don't have anybody else in the top 50. With Matt Forte and Clinton Portis having down years, it will be tough for them to make the playoffs. Missouri has turned it on lately and look like they'll take control of the West: I have an eye on Week 12's showdown to decide the division.

New York's been living dangerously too but keeps finding a way to win. Aside from Nick Folk and Brady, they don't have a consistent third option which could haunt them down the stretch. Addai has been significantly better than I thought, but Marion Barber and Roy Williams have been disappointing. This at least gives Nick Folk a chance to put points on the board, but it makes Adam Stephens want to, well, Axe someone.

#3) I cannot emphasize how nice the weather was this weekend. After a month of cold windy slobber, a sunny 65 degree day was as awesome as it was unexpected. If there is an underrated time of the year, it has to be Indian Summer. I'm still not sure why they call it "Indian Summer," though. Its not like Summer is a holiday that different cultures celebrate at different times, like Chinese New Year; I mean it's freaking summer, the time when the sun is close to your hemishpere and it gets warm. Maybe (and this is the Peter Vella White Zinfindel talking) its because Halloween is Candy Day and Thanksgiving is Turkey Day. In between we need to watch what we eat so we don't blow up like a Macy's Parade balloon. So we starve ourselves dieting for a few weeks. And who was well known for a hunger strike? Gandhi, that's who.

For those of you unfamiliar with Sir Ben Kingsley and Passive Resistance, Gandhi was an Indian. A F@#k the British Imperialists, Forehead Dot and Curry Indian, not a F@#k the American Imperialists, Feather and Casino Indian... Wait, did I just post something potentially offensive on the Internet? Political correctness, Grrr... If you'll excuse me for a minute, I'm going to call up my best friend, RB Larry Johnson for damage control. Just wait til you hear his opinion on renaming the season "Homosexual Summer."

#4) The TV stations, MFL Red Light included, keep showing promos for the soon-to-be-cancelled Courteney Cox show "Cougar Town." I'm not quite sure why they would advertise this during a football game, but it brings up a fascinating point. I thought Canton was Cougar Town. According to Math if a = b and b = c, then a =c. So if Courteney Cox is a Cougar, and the Canton football team is also called the Cougars, does this mean we can also refer to them as the Cox? I say yes. This brings up all sorts of possibilities for the MFL commentators to say inappropriate things, like "Wow, the Cox are really ramming their opponent right now," or "Don't worry about the scoreboard: the Cox love coming from behind." Reminds me of the time I named a fantasy team "Off with my Dad." Even when we lost we were winners, since the other team could only celebrate by saying things like "I was losing late, but then Brett Favre threw three touchdowns and I beat Off with my Dad."

(Hysterically laughing like Beavis...)

#5) Bruney Bowl I was settled, going to Iowa. After a magical first season in 2006, the Hawgs have been down and DC looks like it might continue the Bruney tradition of putting first-year expansion teams in the playoffs. This one was chippy throughout, and Jon's victory might cost James a wildcard spot. It is truly a good thing that they scheduled it for this week instead of two weeks later on Thanksgiving weekend. That dinner would get awkward in a hurry. "Please pass the peas, Jon." "Sure. But who should I pass them to? I got Ma, Pa, Uncle Edgar, Aunt Loretta... I'm like Kurt Warner; I got all sorts of quality options to pass to. Here's your peas, James... And another THREE POINTS FOR THE MOTHERF**KING IOWA HAWGS!!!" I bet that's what happens during the holidays at the Manning household when they play touch football in the back yard.

Peyton: Okay Cooper, run a Z31 T5 water buffalo. Forty three thirty two. Tango Alpha Skeletor Boba Fett. BREAK!!!

Cooper: What?

Peyton: Oh, I forgot. Somebody didn't play in The... National... Football... League... I'll dumb it down a little for ya: just run a slant pattern in front of Dad.

(After the touchdown...)

Eli: Nice try, Pops. On this one I'll scramble around and throw it up for grabs, and you can catch my desperation heave off the top of your head.

Archie: But son, Cooper's giving me a huge cushion. What if we throw a quick out and get a first down?

Eli: Sure. That's the kind of GENIUS playcalling that won you the Super Bowl against one of the only two undefeated teams ever, right? Oh wait, that was ME. You never even went to the playoffs. Desperation heave on three. BREAK!!!


Only five weeks left, and things are sloooowly coming into focus, like when you hear a Monday morning alarm clock after an entire day wolfing down stale clearance Meijer Halloween bulk chocolate and nonstop MFL football and Peter Vella boxed wine. Miami is definitely the team: they have the consistency I mentioned last time, and they can unload on teams much like ESPN's Steve Phillips on an intern. (And no, that joke does not get old.) New York is second, with Mizzou improbably taking the third spot. After that it's a Vickesque dogfight between Canton, Pittsburgh, and Chicago. Despite this week's setback, I like the Cougars' Schaub / MJD / Mason Crosby combo to light up the scoreboard and make the wildcard and possibly challenge for the division title. They have a horriffic schedule with Miami, Missouri, and New York in the next three weeks, but I think Canton can take two of the three and prove that Tim Jones' Cox can hang with anybody.

(See what I did there?)

Hehheh heheheh heh heheh. "Settle down, Beavis."


The Purple Pimp

Sunday, October 11

Megan Fox Is Six-Foot-Eight and Has a Knife

Something's been bothering me for the past couple weeks, and it wasn't until the MFL trade deadline that I figured it out. Now let me put this delicately: the Purple Pimp has been with many women in his day-- fat women, skinny women. Classy women, sketchy women. Young women, Bea Arthur. (Before she passed away. Actually while she passed away, but that's a whole 'nother story.) What's been bothering me is the Megan Fox cover of Rolling Stone magazine.

Now apparently Megan Fox is the greatest thing since b***jobs and peanut butter, and has the ability to give you the other two. (Now clean up and make me a sammich!) Assuming she doesn't stab you with a broken beer bottle and pee on your lifeless body first. She's the craziest tattooed Hollywood chick with gigantic baby-feeders this side of Jon Voight's daughter. And on the Rolling Stone cover she's showing inner-thigh no-underpants cleavage, which is the rarest and sexiest cleavage beside the almost-forbidden, accidental, maybe-you-saw-it-on-the-beach-when-there-was-a-big-bikini-rocking-wave Underboob. And yet, this Rolling Stone magazine, easy-on-the-eyes pictorial and all, is buried on my end table underneath a worn six-month-old Lindy's NFL Draft magazine and the issue of SPIN with cartoon Eddie Vedder on the cover.

Does this make me gay? Or just really enthusiastic about sports and Pearl Jam (the band)?

I was talking about this with my pal Willie Aames the other day, and what he said makes sense. "Pimp," he said, "Megan Fox is like an Iowa offensive lineman."

Huh? Now I'm not one to doubt Buddy Lembeck, but I was certainly non-plussed. What does that mean? That they'd both start a riot if they take off their shirts?

"No," he said. "We have artificially high expectations for them, but they're only getting by because of unusual talents. They're Outliers, like the ones in that book by Malcolm Gladwell that you only know about because Simmons mentioned it on a podcast that one time and then you found out it was on the New York Times bestseller list and now you mention it ALL THE F***ING TIME since you want to sound smart."

Touche, Willie Aames, Touche.

"See, most college offensive linemen have no idea what they're doing. They just get by on physical ability. Pros draft on physical ability and coach players on technique. You think Andre Smith could block Dwight Freeney's hand-slap to a swim move to a 360 degree spin? No chance. But Andre Smith weighs more than you, me, and Nicole Eggert combined, so he can block non-elite players and will only get better once he figures things out. Most young linemen are like that.

But Robert Gallery fooled them: he was a technique player, yet since he was six-eight and looked like Wendy O. Williams gave birth to Frankenstein's monster, they assumed that he was physically talented and drafted him way too high. He's not; he reached his ceiling during the Rose Bowl against Southern Cal. Megan Fox is the same."

"Megan Fox is six-foot-eight? Holy crap!"

"That was a metaphor, dude. You remember mimeographed worksheets from second grade English class, right?"

"Hated those things. I'd rather eat gruel."

"Regardless-- and note that I didn't say "irregardless," which people like you say to sound smart even though it isn't really a word and makes me want to punch newborn puppies in the face with spiked brass knuckles-- Robert Gallery and Megan Fox are similar. Most young actresses are either very good looking but can't act, or are well-trained actresses who resemble the puppies I was metaphorically face-punching just a few moments ago. Over time Jennifer Aniston learns to emote or Hilary Swank gets soft lighting and Photoshop. They get "coached up." But neither one has the third thing: a personality that puts her in magazine profiles and makes her a super-duper-star. Megan Fox is decent in all three categories. She looks nice. She isn't jaw-droppingly gorgeous, but she's close. She's a limited but decent actress; no Kate Hepburn in Night of the Iguana, but passable for your typical Hollywood Action Adventure flick. And she has a strangely captivating personality."

"You mean the whole I-might-possibly-filet-you-with-a-butterfly-knife-during-sex thing?"


"That's pretty hot."


"So you're saying that, because she has a mix of talents most people don't possess, we overrate each individual talent she has? That we think she's the sexiest woman on the planet because of her decent acting and crazed knifey-ness, even though she isn't as pretty as a lot of models, let alone celebrity chef Giada de Laurentiis (who could make you a super amazing gourmet peanut butter sammich afterwards)?"


"That's pretty insightful, Tommy Bradford. Give my regards to Dick Van Patten and Mr. Powell, you crazy bastard."


After several hours of wildly Not Safe For Work Google searches for "Giada de Laurentiis" + "peanut butter," I decided to reconsider Buddy's thesis and see if I could apply it to the MFL. What do you know? It fits, just like Megan Fox in a spandex jumpsuit.

The question most of you are asking is: where are we at this point in the MFL season? Who knows? Its still early enough that "experts" like Dr. K., Mr. W., and Yours Truly have as much insight as the weird, dodgy, possibly-homeless guy you see every day in the 7-11 parking lot. You know, the guy with a greasy mullet and a pocket full of scratch-off tickets who smells of St. Ides malt liquor and Sausage McMuffin farts who loudly has conversations with himself consisting of "What about that Tony Romo? More like PHONY HOMO! AmIright? HAHAHAHAHA!!! Quarterback... Quarter... back. Quarters. Change. Change'll come in 2012. But what about that Tony Romo..."

There are a lot of questions still. Is Matt Cassel any good? Is Joe Flacco the real thing? What's the deal with Willis McGahee finally being productive? Will Brandon Jacobs bounce back? By season's end, who will have the better passer rating, Ronnie Brown or JaMarcus Russell? By season's end, who will have the bigger breasts, Megan Fox or JaMarcus Russell?

What do we make of Orlando's 3-0 start? New York at 3-1? What about Missouri's stunning decline? Two weeks ago I thought the Mizzou-Pitt game was a Super Bowl preview; now they're both struggling. How about Chicago? MFL teams this year are like Megan Fox and Robert Gallery: each has a blend of unique attributes that makes us jump to the wrong conclusions. With expansion and smarter drafting, most teams have three big time guys and the rest is unpredictable. When Maurice Jones-Drew and Mason Crosby are clicking, Canton will hang 50 on someone and look like the greatest team ever. But when those two have an off day, it's a depressing 15 point defeat. Drew Brees tossed five scores in week one and it looked like Pitt was back to its winning ways. Now days, not so much. A Super Bowl Champion mere months ago, Tony Romo has now legally changed his name to Tony "F My Life" Romo. Why is South Bend 3-1? Because Flacco and Peterson haven't had a bad game or bye week yet. But when they do, Randy DeCleene will be happy that

the games aren't broadcast until 11 PM in Iraqistan or wherever the f**k he is. To watch your fantasy team lose in real time-- the TV tuned to the NFL Redzone channel while your laptop is constantly refreshing the ESPN fantasy scoreboard page-- is about as much fun as going quail hunting with Dick Cheney.

(And yes, that's an old joke. But 1) I'm sure Randy gets a chuckle out of it when nobody's looking, and 2) Harry Whittington is apparently the 50 Cent of quail hunting, but with more atrial fibrillation and fewer Cristal-sippin' fine-ass bitches. I can hardly wait until he and Cheney release diss tracks against each other on YouTube.)

So here's a prediction: going into week five, Miami looks like the best bet to win it all. They have elite players at every position, including a scoring defense, so they should survive even if Michael Turner or Aaron Rogers take a day off. And they have depth, which always comes into play. What if Tom Brady gets roughed up? I don't think Matt Stafford can carry New York into the playoffs. What if the unthinkable happens and Peyton Manning breaks an ankle? The only other QB on the roster is Chad Pennington, who is suffering from something called a Torn Shoulder Capsule. I don't know what that is but it doesn't sound pleasant. On a scale of "getting stabbed" to "getting stabbed while having sex with Megan Fox," I imagine it would be closer to the first one. At least Josh Stuckey got Manning some help with a nice trade for Felix Jones and cap room for a free agent or two.

But Miami's the team, I think. And that means we're one Aaron Rogers injury away from... Brett Favre in the Super Bowl? It could happen. We're gonna kick it old school, going back to the early 90's: fire up the Madden Cruiser, get Willie Aames and Nicole Eggert back on the phone. But not Scott Baio. Screw that guy. We're changing the name of the show: its FAVRE IN CHARGE! Call up ESPN 8; I doubt they'd ever think of doing a story about such a scenario. They barely noticed that the guy un-retired, after all. FAVRE FAVRE FAVRE FAVRE FAVRE. In a twisted way, I'm almost looking forward to it.

And by "looking forward to it," I mean "paint a huge target on my face and call up Dick Cheney. I'll be up in a tree, making quail noises."


The Purple Pimp

Thursday, September 10

Pizza Sex Heroin Christmas

All apologies to Hank Jr., but I am ready for some football. I am an addict and I need my fix.

The problem with alcohol and drugs isn't that they are bad for you; it's that they are Awesome. So Awesome, in fact, that you are always trying to find a different alcohol or drug that is even Awesomer. And that's where people get into trouble. On a Normal Dude scale, you might enjoy a few beers and a whiskey now and again. But then you get into gin and vodka, and then exotic cocktails mixed with Wyld Stallyon energy drinks and NyQuil and A1 Zesty Tex Mex Picante. On a Rock Star scale, you start with pot and E, but then move on to heroin and Oxycontin and zoo-grade rhinocerous tranquilizers. Just ask Michael Jackson. Doctors Arnold Klein and Conrad Murray for the win!

It’s the same for us football junkies. Following college and pro football just isn't enough. We have to get into off-shore gambling and fantasy football. In the offseason we have to find something else that gives us a similar, and possibly better, high. We tried baseball, but it's too pastoral and laid back: we want gigantic humans colliding with other gigantic humans at hundreds of miles per hour. UFC is all right, but there aren't enough guys involved. Maybe if they invent Team UFC with ten guys per side kicking, punching, and eye gouging the living f@#k out of each other, I'd be into it.

(PS: as a quick observation, do you think Dana White would be nearly as badass if he weren't given a girl's first name? I mean, as a kid he probably had to beat down older kids who called him "Kimberly" as if he were Dana Plato from Diff'rent Stokes. When I have a son-- at least one that I know of-- I think I'll name him Mr. Princess Pink Vagina Wussbag. Either he'll be the most hard-assed UFC champion ever or he'll be some shy computer programmer that invents the 2027 version of Twitter. Either way I get to retire early, move to the French Riviera, and snag a hot Czech trophy wife. Sure she'll pile on the credit card debt and start banging the air conditioner repair guy and asphixiate me with a goose-down pillow as soon as I write her into the will, but in this economy really what else can you expect or hope for?

And yes, just for the record, my life goals and expectations are Awesome.)

Ahem. So anyway, over the past few weeks in my currently poor, non-kid-nor-trophy-wife-having state, I've been checking out's free access to Bigpond's Australian Rules Football channel. This thing is crazy, violent, unhinged football at its best. Here in the US we talk about punters-- who are basically one-bar face mask soccer guys who aren't good enough to kick field goals-- hitting the overhanging jumbotron at the new Dallas Cowboys Stadium. In Aussie Rules Football guys are kicking, punting, and also elbowing throats and groin-punching, then tossing back a six pack of Foster's and ju-jitsuing spiders and wrestling crocodiles on the way home. Just a little different. The sport is rugby plus hockey plus an island founded by Extreme Red Bull drinking British convicts who got deported to a southen hemisphere wasteland and decided that, instead of dying immediately like normal human beings, they should rock killer animal and insect faces.

What other sport has something called a "Blood Rule," which says how much you are allowed to hemmorage your lifeforce on the field before you have to receive treatment? In all, Aussie People, not to mention Aussie Football, equals The Coolest Thing I Have Ever Seen.

According to The Internet, which is always 100% factual, the sport was founded by a gentleman named Thomas Wentworth Wills back in 1859. Three awesome facts about T. W. Wills: 1) There is no evidence that he is not related to the MFL's Dave Wills, so lets assume that he is; 2) A hundred years before Haight-Ashbury, he rocked a sweet Jerry Garcia neck beard; and 3) This absolutely indicates he was into whatever 1859 Australian hippie culture there was, which I'm guessing consisted of smoking ground-up scorpion stingers and showing his "cricket bat" to girls with tight shirts and loose morals while a jam band played a forty minute experimental version of "Waltzing Matilda." How else do you explain a sport that changes the color of the ball based on the time of day, or that plays on a field that is the same shape as the ball they use?

Aussie Aussie Aussie Oy! Oy! Oy!

Oh, another great thing about Australian Footy is how they speak The Queen's English and have bizarre babytalk slang. Like, well, "Footy." Really? It sounds like something the Wiggles are going to sing to your toddler about, not crazy people with mohawks two-hand punching each other as the "ruckman" contests a "bouncedown" by "kicking a guy in the gonads." One announcer described a player breaking free and sprinting toward the goal only to get simultaneously head-butted by three six-foot-two two-hundred-twenty-pound guys and fumble at the goal line as, and I quote, "Things seemed easy peasy til he spilled his lollies." Huh? Sophisticated dialogue and brutal action. It's kinda like watching a Tarantino film.

Good times. Aussie Football is great. But in a lot of ways its like Telly Savalas in Kojak giving a heroin addict orange juice and candy bars so he kick for a few days and come down for questioning. American Football is back this week, and I'm ready to mainline the beeyotch. Add the MFL division realignment, and this is more exciting than drugs, fattening food, or boning on a holiday. This is Pizza Sex Heroin Christmas!

So, without Freddy Adu, here are the Purple Pimp's sleepers and busts.


Donald Brown, Running Back, Colts. The Colts spent the 27th pick in the 2009 NFL draft on Brown and he should be a huge MFL player. The Colts let Dominic Rhodes leave in free agency, so they don't have another option behind Joseph Addai. Addai is the featured back and will split the Colts' carries 65 - 35 to start the season, but Brown could be an impressive third down back and an even bigger fantasy factor when Addai gets hurt again, which should happen soon.


Marissa Miller, Swimsuit Model, Sports Illustrated Dot Com.

Oh wait, you mean MFL bust... How about Raven's RB Willis McGahee? After last year's off-season knee surgery he had ups and downs, scoring seven touchdowns but never being consistent. He had a career-low in rushing yards and was replaced down the stretch by goal-line beast Le'Ron McClain. McGahee also had arthroscopic ankle surgery this offseason, and Ray Rice has been tearing it up in the off-season. Heads were scratched when Miami kept Rice for over a million bucks this offseason, but it looks to be a saavy move.


Joe Flacco, Quarterback, Ravens. The Ravens play conservative, run-first football. But now that Rex Ryan is gone and the defense is getting older, they will open it up a little more. Flacco has a great arm and can wing it deep if they want to. It might take a few years to transistion to pass-blocking O linemen and decent wideouts, but he should have a few three TD games this year and can only get better.

Sage Rosenfels, Quarterback, Vikings. If it weren't for the Turnover Game against the Colts, he would have beaten out Schaub for Houston's starting spot all last year. He's a smart but physically limited QB, but can throw TDs and avoid picks most of the time. If it weren't for The Favre, he'd be in my top 16 quarterbacks. As it is, he he looks like the guy to pick up for nickels on the dollar in week five, since Favre will either get hurt or retire days later. And either way, Brad Childress will be replaced next year as Minnesota Head Coach by someone who spent their Dungeons & Dragons Character Points on Offensive Coordinating or Head Coaching instead of on Awesome Moustache Having.

Chris Henry, Wide Receiver, Bengals. As a Human Being, I hate Chris Henry. This thug has been sent to earth from the planet Krypton by his father Jor-El, destined to become Super Thug. Chad 86 and Laveranues Coles are past their primes so SuperThug should get significant playing time as the Bengals' number three wide receiver or better. If he can avoid drugs, guns, and vicious assaulty behavior he will be a fantastic big play guy and could be a top ten TD maker by years' end. Or he'll go to jail, or get traded to Oakland. Oakland's worse.


Cedric Benson, Running Back, Bengals. Good news: he's the Cincinnati Bengals' starting running back. In the last two games of the season in which he ran for 282 yards and a touchdown on 63 carries. Bad news: with Palmer healthy they will throw much more this year, and there's no way they are running thirty-plus times per games. Benson only had 3.5 yards per carry, so unless Andre Smith becomes the next Jackie Slater this will not end well.

Joseph Addai, Running Back, Colts. See Donald Brown.

Ben Watson, Tight End, Patiots. So Watson is a gimp, and his only advocate is Tom Brady, who was hurt last year. As a result he had only 22 receptions and 2 touchdowns (his lowest totals since his rookie season). The Patriots brought in new tight ends Chris Baker and The-Not-QB Alex Smith. Like Bob Dylan sang, "You don't have to be Bill Ayers to see which way the wind blows.'


Tim Hightower, Running Back, Cardinals. Hightower was an awesome unknown free agent pickup who faded down the stretch over the final half of last season. He put up 10 TD's as a rookie in 2008, but was under three yards per carry. At first glance, Arizona's decision to draft Ohio State's Beanie Wells drops Hightower to the bench and he should be dropped immediately. But this also lets him stay fresh and excel as a receiver out of the backfield on third down and as the goal-line back. Hightower won't put up impressive yardage totals, but he could rock out double digit touchdowns, making him the MFL MVP. He is either Brandon Jacobs or Bam Morris; either way I am stunned Jon Bruney has not acquired him yet.


If I had to guess, and that's sort of my job here, I'd project the MFL Division winners as: Pittsburgh, Miami, and Chicago. Last year's Super Bowlers Canton and Missouri are the next in line. They are Awesome, but not quite Vodka and NyQuil Awesome. They might get there, but I have smoked too many ground-up scorpion stingers this evening to know all the wild card scenarios and permutations, not to mention tie-breakers, so I'll keep it at that. Math is hard. With all the realignment and expansion, it will be a slugfest, that's for sure. Have fun this year, and try not to spill your lollies, you wankers. Less than twenty four hours til Pizza Sex Heroin Christmas.

Or, as Kojak put it, "Who loves you, Baby?"

Aussie Aussie Aussie Oy! Oy! Oy!


The Purple Pimp

Thursday, June 25

Pimpin’ Ain’t Easy (Now with 60% more Ether!)

I know, you think that being the Purple Pimp is nothing but sipping Night Train from an Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom Taco Bell collectible tumbler and dorking chubby single moms who have daddy issues and ankle tattoos, but I got news for you: to quote Big Daddy Kane, "Pimpin’ Ain’t Easy." To put it mildly, ever since I turned thirty I’ve been gimpier than Joe Theismann starring in a Whack-a-Mole Game while Lawrence Taylor has forty bucks of tokens to spend on the leg-breaking stick.

Man, I don’t even have to work out anymore to gimp myself. Just the other night I hurt myself IN MY SLEEP. It was weird: In my dream I imagined watching TV with my mom, only we were stuck watching infomercials. After the Snuggy, the Sham-WOW, and the Slap-Chop (You're going to love my nuts!), we saw an incomprehensible commercial for some Chuck Norris Total Gym / Bowflex knockoff. The dude was doing all manner of crazy hamstring-shredding elliptical machine Kung Fu, and my mom said, “Wow, if you buy that you could really get hurt.” Seconds later, I woke up with my right ankle throbbing.

Yes, this is the one and only time I will use “in my dream”, “my mom”, “my nuts”, and “throbbing” in the same paragraph. Unless my dad re-marries with reality TV’s The Cougar, I guess. Or if he marries an actual cougar, since I’d be all about f***ing it, just for the challenge.

Anyway, the great thing about being hurt is what you can blame on the medication. You can say, “I’m sorry, boss, my back tightened up last night and I took a doctor-prescribed Vicodin. I certainly didn’t plan to doze off in that meeting.” What you mean is, “I drank 750ml of Night Train and huffed three-quarters of a can of Valvoline Pyroil Engine Starting Fluid (Now with 60% more Ether!) out of a Bush’s Val-U Land plastic shopping bag during my lunch break. I’m going to close my office door now and stare at the Santana “Abraxas” album cover for a few hours, then leave early to go home and sniff more Ether.

But first I’ll use my manager status to fire Trevor and Bethany, who don’t seem to believe in the mystical world of the golden elephant men and the soul-stealing dragon-bird-people.

Deny the existence of the dragon-bird-people? Good God, man. Have you already forgotten the lessons of Hitchcock? Tippi Hedren barely made it through when them non-dragon feathery sons-of-bitches were engaging in hand-to-hand errr… hand-to-wing combat. It will be a massacre! Indeed this will be a rude awakening for Trevor and B-Train. I’m guessing that they don’t appreciate the “smooth,” rusty-nails taste of Night Train, or sniff the Wal-Mart brand knockoff Ether instead of Genuine Valvoline Pyroil, or that they haven’t thoroughly read the Advanced Dungeons & Dragons Second Edition Monstrous Compendium, that douchebag, and that whatever-you-call-a-female-version-of-a-douchebag.


Whoa! What was that!?! A flashback to that horrible Rona Jaffee “Mazes and Monsters” movie, perhaps. Starring Tom Hanks, an imprimatur of quality. Relax… Relax... Ok, I’m cool. RELAX!!! Ok. Whew, ok no more Ether for me. For now.

But enough about all that, it’s harshing my mellow. It’s summer time, man. Sun’s shining, sweet corn on the grill, Night Train in the cooler. It’s all good… I might head down to the beach later, check out the surf and the sand and the women half my age. Which is a little weird, since I’m thirty-one and would probably end up meeting Chris Hanson on national TV. And, hell, I would have to grow a moustache and acquire a Hannah Montana backpack full of wine coolers and Fallout Boy CDs for the occasion, so that’s not going to happen. Maybe not half my age, then; how about half my age, plus five years? That puts them in the 20 - 21 range, which seems a reasonable ogling/creepiness ratio.

Honestly, man, I can’t believe what a meat market the beach is now.: either I’m getting old, or things changed drastically over the past ten years. These kids-- both male and female-- work out all the time and take vitamins and have eating disorders. They have less body fat than Christian Bale in “The Machinist,” and he’s the freaking Batman, for the love of Mike. And these young people shave everything. Dudes with no chest-hair, like the Bizarro World Tom Jones. Show some pride, dude: a tit-carpet used to be the 1970’s epitome of manliness, and besides, now what is going to make your diamond-encrusted gold necklace medallion stand out? And the girls? Even the Goth-y chicks are in on it: just the other day I was chatting up an eyebrow pierced, flaming red tomato-haired Hayley Williams clone, and used the classy, old-school line, “Nice hair. So does the carpet match the drapes?” (It was the Night Train talking.) To my surprise, she retorted, “Wood floors. Freshly waxed.”


So speaking of vaginas (**PROFESSIONAL BLOGGER SEGUE. DO NOT ATTEMPT AT HOME**), I guess Gisele Bundchen’s is in the news. Mere months from now a miniature Tom Brady is going to pass through said item and enter this world, and eighteen years later is going to lead his old man’s alma mater to a national championship. Hail to the Victors! Go Blue! And then get drafted by the Pittsburgh Spears and win the MFL title and MVP. Or he will shock the world and attend Ohio State, then go to the Canton Cougars, which will make Nate Russo hang himself in a hotel closet like David Carradine except with photos of Bo Schembechler and Peyton Manning strewn about the place. Ahem. Anyway, a part of me hopes that there is some sort of weird scientific event like with OctoMom and Gisele has several kids at once. MTV could shoot a reality TV series about her modeling with a gigantic, Warren Sapp –size belly, and then fold it into a Jon and Kate Plus Eight ripoff.

Then they could hire a wacky housekeeper named Alice and call the show, “The Brady Bundchen.”

Thank you, Funny Bone Comedy Club! I’ll be selling DVDs at a foldout table by the door after the show, and don’t forget to tip your waitress…

So Mrs. Tom Brady’s hoo-ha is probably the most important football news I have to report this summer. Sure we have The Favre donning a Vikings uniform, but I haven’t seen someone this purple and washed up since she got an ill-advised ride home after a night drinking with Ted Kennedy in 1969. (Come on, that’s funny stuff! Where’s your sense of humor, Democrats? A few months ago I got in major trouble with my best chica when Kennedy gifted his pet Bo, a Portuguese Water Dog, to President Obama and I opined “Unsurprisingly, the one factor Ted Kennedy looks for in a canine is the ability to swim.” Silent treatment for the Purple Pimp. Seriously, people, Chappaquiddick was THIRTY YEARS AGO. At this point its water under the-- Oh. Wait. Never mind.)

The only other news is that the United Football League held their inaugural draft. The Las Vegas team drafted a kicker named Andrew Jacas. The sarcasm-potential when pronouncing his name is off the charts. “Way to miss that game-winning field goal, Jacas.” That’s my favorite this-rookie-is-getting-pantsted-and-tied-to-the-goalpost name since Florida State / Miami Dolphins wideout De’Cody Fagg. In all, the UFL teams drafted NFL busts like Michigan’s Chris Perry (again, Go Blue! Get Mr. Russo’s closet-hangin’-belt ready), and pretty much everyone who is rated under 62 overall in Madden 2007, like the spell-checker-breaking Cory Lekkerkerker. In fact I was planning on having ESPN’s Bill Simmons on as the first ever Purple Pimp Podcast Guest, but I scrapped the idea once New York took Bowling Green receiver Steve Sanders and our talk deteriorated into rehashing fifteen-year-old “Beverly Hills 90210” episodes.

“Seriously, Johnny (ED: NOT MY NAME), Ian Ziering is to “90210” what Jerry Sichting was to the 1986 Celtics. He wasn’t part of the Perry/Priestly/Doherty :: Bird/Parrish/McHale big three, but if you needed a sub who could step in and get hot for seven minutes or carry a meaningless episode in November while the rest of the cast rested, he would always drain the open corner jumper. Scott Wedman, on the other hand, was a lot like Boof in “Teen Wolf.” As a matter of fact, I was hanging out at Jimmy Kimmel’s house last week when…”

So that’s it for the Purple Pimp: enjoy your summer, mofos. Single guys: get out to the beach and spend the afternoon drinking Night Train and meeting some fun-bunnies. Married guys: get in the back yard and spend the evening grilling up some sweet corn with your kids. Single and/or married guys: spend the twilight hours drinking some Night Train with your special fun-bunny and making some more kids, possibly while curled up under a Snuggy.

“You're going to love my nuts!”


The Purple Pimp

Saturday, December 20

This Bowl is Super, Thanks for Asking

So some of you laughed when I suggested that Drew Kuespert was responsible for injuring Tom Brady. But after the most competitive MFL season ever, Missouri gets to play the Super Bowl at home. Not that big of deal, right? Uh... While the home fans will be revved up for this one, I am not. I really don't want to be here in St. Louis. Seriously, whoever came up with the idea of rotating the Super Bowl game between the MFL clubs' home stadiums should be beaten with reeds. Its fricking freezing, and boring as heck. Why can't we just have the game in Vegas or New Orleans or Miami every year?

The Super Bowl is not just a reward for the clubs involved; it's a one week party for the fans and corporate sponsors. So tell me, sports fans, would you rather be stumbling down Bourbon Street at Four AM with a head full of Hurricanes and looking at boobs, or blogging on your iPhone while shoveling down Streamliners at Johnny Rockets because everything else closes at Ten?

Does the CEO of Kitty Beef want to spend five days snowbound reading the St. Louis Post Dispatch in the lobby of the Hilton Garden Inn, or does he want to be sipping umbrella drinks on the beach and canoodling with bikini-clad coeds that Mrs. Kitty Beef doesn't need to know about? What about Mr. Leonard Nimoy? This lack of excitement makes him want to two-hand overhand punch somebody.

And what about the journalists covering the game? Thanks to the MFL's meager travel budget, Mr. W and I aren't even near the center of whatever action there is. We're stuck in the Cackling Jackal Motel out by the airport, where the roar of planes descending is only interrupted by the siren song of bed frames thumping against the paper-thin walls. In order to get to the press events at the Convention Center, I have to hop on a bus and spend forty minutes freezing my behind off, stuck next to all sorts of weirdos hacking and coughing and giving me SARS. It's like one giant Germ Mosh Pit.

Just a second... I think the hobo in the Rae Carruth jersey and army jacket just wiped some hepatitis on me while trying to steal my Heartland's Best Value Gin. You want to go, little man? Huh? I didn't think so. YOU DO NOT MESS WITH THE PIMP! RAAAAARGH!

Anyway... Woo Hoo! Party! And this is St. Louis, where there's actually stuff to do. I've seen the Arch (aka The Tall Loopy Thing), the Budweiser brewery (aka The House 50% of My Income Built), and Harrah's Casino St. Louis (The House the Other 50% Built). This is a cornucopia of awesome compared to the last two Super Bowl Weeks in Arkdale and Canton. There is only so much pay-per-view soft porn you can watch, after all. A few hours in your mind starts wandering and you lose interest in the faux-boning and get more interested in the fantastic houses they shot these films in. Like, “Wow, that granite kitchen countertop they're banging on would look great in my house,” or “The tilework around the hot tub is fantastic. I wonder who their contractor is? And what product do they use to remove all the spoo stains from the grout?”

Anyway, my reward for all this is to sit in an ice storm for four hours until my extremities turn blue. Busch Stadium? Not inside the temperature-controlled Edward Jones Dome? Give me a freaking break. Oh well, assuming I don't die, I'll get one of those spank-ass bronchial infections that will make me sound like Tom Waits for a week. And the ladies love Tom Waits.

On to game analysis, which is what they supposedly pay me for. As my fourteen year old, white, wants-to-be-black cousin might say, “Break it break it break it down, yo.”

I really want to slap that kid.


Could someone tell me how Kyle Orton got to be one of the best players in the league? Up until two months ago, the only thing remotely remarkable about him was his ability to consume inhuman amounts of Jack Daniels on a bye week. Meanwhile, Tony Romo has become Drew Bledsoe 2.0 Fantastic numbers early, but disappears in big games. Word has it that Tim Jones has flown Jessica Simpson in for the game, and given her a custom-made pink Peregrines jersey. But Mizzou should be okay as long as he doesn't have to be the holder on a game-winning field goal attempt. ADVANTAGE: PUSH

Running Back

In Greek mythology, Cerberus is a multi-headed demon dog that keeps dead people from coming back to the world of the living. LenDale White and Chris Johnson have spent this season keeping... MFL owners from coming back... to the world of the scoreboard, or something. Damn you, Heartland's Best Value Gin! I almost had a cohesive metaphor there. Meanwhile, Maurice Jones-Drew and LaDanian Tomlinson are the best tandem in the league. And they abbreviate their names, which all the kids love. MJD and LT are BFFs AFAIK. LOL ROTFLMAO. F. U! ADVANTAGE: CANTON

Wide Receiver

This could go either way, depending on which Braylon Edwards shows up. If it is Mr. Hands of Stone, Canton will have a big advantage. But Missouri wins if its the guy who makes absurd leaping left-handed one-handed catches. In a locally televised college game he did just that, and the ex-jock, meathead, vocabulary-challenged color guy exclaimed “Left handed?! He must be amphibious!” The play by play guy muttered under his breath “Yes, he was born with gills but they have developed into lungs rather nicely.” ADVANTAGE: CANTON

Tight End

Jason Witten is one of the best in the league, and anyone who coldcocks T.O. and then talks crap about him to ESPN's Ed Werder is ace in my book. Dustin Keller is solid, but Favre doesn't dump it off to his tight ends, and has been erratic lately. And by lately, I mean the last ten years. Maybe he should start drinking and using horse tranquilizers again. It's like when Aerosmith got clean and started pumping our awful power ballads during the mid 90s. Could you guys please get back on heroin and start rocking again? ADVANTAGE: CANTON

Defense / Special Team

Jacksonville is good, but goes up against an Indy team that doesn't turn it over. Meanwhile Dallas gets to play a low-octane offense with a rookie quarterback. And as Roy Williams gets more familiar with the offense, they will try to get the explosive Patrick Crayton more touches as a kick and punt returner, which is like Dwyane Wade playing basketball against a bunch of third graders. ADVANTAGE: MISSOURI


I hate kickers. They should not be part of a touchdowns only league. If you do your homework and pick LeRon McClain off waivers on the day he puts up two scores, you should win. But if Rob Bironas kicks five field goals for your opponent, it doesn't matter. Kickers are more evil than taking candy from babies, then giving it to diabetic babies. Kickers are always a crapshoot, and it gets worse late in the year when you get swirling winds and snowstorms and drunk homeless Rae Carruth trying to murder them on the bus the day before the game. ADVANTAGE: ?



Canton has the advantage, but Missouri has the home crowd and the sinister Drew Kuespert. The referee crew of Dick Bavetta, Tim Donaghy, and Ed Hoculi will keep it close, but I see Canton pulling it out late on a Mason Crosby field goal. Tim Jones will win his first title, the MFL season will be over, and I can get out of this chilly, forsaken wasteland. Come on, MFL owners, why not just do the next one in Vegas? The weather is better, there is a lot more to do, and we could take a field trip to the Chicken Ranch. (Mrs. Kitty Beef doesn't have to know.) And not only would it be awesome, but the Adult Video Awards are the week after, and I could use some pointers on getting new granite kitchen countertops.


The Purple Pimp

Wednesday, October 22

Rehab is for Quitters

It seems that some of you feel that the last column was a little half assed. I disagree; I think it was more like three-quarter assed, or maybe five-eighth assed. But really, what job requires you be “full assed” anyway? Maybe a pole dancer, but I've met some decidedly unenthusiastic strippers who still make hundreds of Budweiser-and-jam-soaked dollar bills each night. Mostly from me, but that's beside the point.

There were some missed opportunities, yeah. I should have led with “Nailin' Paylin” and tossed in more jokes about “drill here, drill now,” or Joe the Plumber “layin' pipe.” But after rereading it, I think the actual football stuff was decent. I still like the Chicago Ravens, no matter what you guys think.

Some MFL owners posted on the forum that the years of drugs and booze have distorted my judgment on such things, and that I should go to Rehab. Maybe they're right. After all, I have done my share of brain case / liver punishing. (And The Brain Case / Liver Punishers absolutely has to be the name of a rock band. We can get together this weekend in Mr. W's garage and play covers of Melvins songs. E-mail me if you're interested.)

But Rehab, huh? I decided to ask the foremost expert on Rehab, Miss Amy Winehouse. She recommended, “No, no, no.” I trust her judgment. The thing I like about Amy is that, as far as drug ingestion is involved, she goes at it full-assed. It was reported last week that she bought a cotton candy machine, then modified it to dispense delicious, edible, whipped cocaine.

Now that's dedication! The extent of my fun has been “Let's smoke a bowl and watch the Price is Right and get way too philosophical about how Plinko is the ultimate metaphor for the chances we take in life,” not “Let's invent a crazy multi-step Rube Goldberg machine to get high from.” Way to take it to the next level, you Nicola Tesla you!

Amy Winehouse has single-handedly saved Rock n' Roll, even though her songs are neither rock nor roll. Too many modern bands are like The Strokes or The Killers. The music is solid, but they aren't dangerous and unhinged. Amy Winehouse is the Guns N' Roses of our generation. GNR was awesome because they were simpletons from Indiana that didn't understand what hair metal was about. Bands were all image, appealing to teenage boys who wanted to party and get drunk and get laid. It's no wonder we still hear Poison or Motley Crue in strip clubs: they were all about adolescent fantasies of endless one dollar Heinekens and willing bleach blondes with gigantic boobies.

So the guys in Warrant would spend a Wednesday posing for the cover of Hit Parader, pretending to swig fifths of Jack Daniels with impossible top-heavy models. But then they'd go back to Jani Lane's apartment and eat Domino's pizza and play Nintendo Excite Bike and barely stay awake to watch Johnny Carson's opening monologue before going to sleep at 11:42 PM. They were normal dudes most of the time, and only put on the spandex makeup show on Friday and Saturday nights, and when promoting their albums.

But GNR figured that to be rock stars they needed to be drunk and high and bedding big-haired skanks 24/7/365. Slash freely admits to boning groupies, waking up to smoke crack at four in the morning, then writing incredibly scary drug-influenced guitar riffs with Megadeth's Dave Mustaine. Axl was notorious for getting loaded before shows, then freaking out and beating the sh*t out of fans, and then the security guards who interfered with his fan sh*t beating. He also beat the sh*t out of his supermodel girlfriends. Which makes Steven Adler all the more awesome, because he was so out of control he got kicked out of Guns N' Roses.

I have his photo on my wall for inspiration.

Hair metal was all about an impossible partying lifestyle: GNR's music was different, since they failed at living that lifestyle and were brutally introspective about why. See “One In a Million.” Despite me making all this money and being considered amazingly cool, why do I still hate myself? Why do I have to drink inhuman amounts of Jack Daniels in order to sleep each night? Why am I such an idiot? Amy Winehouse's “Back To Black” does the same thing. Critics think I am awesome. I am self-destructive and do dumb things, like heroin and coke, which make me lose my family and friends. Why am I such an idiot? To soothe the pain, I guess I'll do more dumb things, such as heroin and coke.

Now that, my friends, is the essence of Rock and F*cking Roll. Jim Morrison, Jimi Hendrix, and Janis Joplin would approve. At least, they would if they weren't dead from substance abuse. Which is sorta the point. Rock and Roll never sleeps. It just drinks too much and passes out for a while.

And now, actual football related substance, as opposed to controlled substance. This Week's Purple Pimp Power Poll:

1)Chicago Ravens – great runningback play, as mentioned in the previous column. This ad is brought to you by NyQuil for President. “I'm Jeremy Bonk, and I endorse this message.”

2)Iowa Hawgs – Jacobs and Lynch are touchdown machines, and John Kasay and FAVRE FAVRE FAVRE have had been rejuvenated FAVRE. “I'm John Madden, and I endorse this FAVRE.”

3)Canton Cougars – Steven Jackson is back, and LT is starting to get healthy. MJD is on the bench, making for a scary backup option. And surprise – Schaub and Orton have been difference makers so far for a very complete team.

4)New York Lynx – With every East team besides Canton struggling to find offense, the Bears D/ST will win them a few games, and they get the slight nod over Pitt and Miami. Seriously, since Westbrook got dinged its been first team over 20 points gets the win in division games.

5)Pittsburgh Spears – Their offense has been second worst in the MFL this year, but they've found a way to gut it out. But it caught up to them last week with Addai hurt. Good thing they have Rashard Mendenhall to fill in... Crap.

6)Miami Mafia – Apparently the Mannings decided to trade places this year, like in The Parent Trap or Single White Female. And I should have seen the Mewelde Moore thing coming; he used to play for Minnesota. Minnesota wears purple. Therefore Mewelde Moore = Pimp.

7)Missouri Peregrines – Remember the scene in Robocop when the ED-209 freaks out in the OmniCorp boardroom and gratuitously pumps machine gun rounds into the unarmed executive's chest? That's what “RomoCop's” injury did to Mizzou's title hopes.

8)Arkdale Aarvarks – They have a bunch of okay players, a couple decent wideouts, and Peyton Manning. If my drug-addled recollection serves, an MFL team won the Super Bowl two years ago with that formula. Those were the days...

9)Dowagiac Fighting Chefs – (by special guest writer Forrest Gump) My momma always said Brian Westbrook is like a box of chocolates: get the wrong one and you swell up and die. My momma was allergic to peanuts.

10) South Bend Scraps – They have a solid nucleus and should be competitive next year. Philip Rivers is #2 among MFL quarterbacks. Santana Moss is the #7 wide receiver. On the bright side for Pittsburgh, they traded those dudes so they could get Rashard Mendenhall. Crap.

So, for the most part this column has more to do with hair metal than with the MFL. I could have used some lame conceit and compared each MFL team to an 80's band (Dowagiac is definitely Winger: they look the part but just don't rock. Pittsburgh is Motley Crue: they can kill people in DUIs and overdose on heroin, but it never seems to catch up to them. Missouri with Brad Johnson is Van Halen with Sammy Hagar. Chicago and Iowa are Nirvana and Pearl Jam, and come from nowhere to break up the genre.)

But as for Rehab? No thanks. Rather burn out than fade away. Damn the Man! I'll be chilling out in the Purple Pimp Mansion, sipping my dollar store plastic tumbler of Wild Turkey and Diet Meijer Cola, listening to Amy Winehouse and Axl Rose sing about cocaine and sodomy. Cocaine and Sodomy? That should also be a band name. Or at least the title of The Brain Case / Liver Punishers debut album.

It'll be double platinum, baby. Double Effing Platinum.


The Purple Pimp

Thursday, October 16

October Surprise

Contrary to what you may have heard, the Commish did not have me executed over the last column, G-Funk style with the gun held parallel to the ground, sh*t and stuff, money. (I was roughed up, however.) I left it up to Mr. W to provide you with your MFL blog infotainment, but he's been busy with out-of-town family shiznit, so I guess I'll be the first blogger to update in a while. You guys really deserve more. Vote Generic Challenger in 2008!

So let's see, what's happened over the past few weeks? The U.S. Economy pulled a Where's Waldo? and disappeared, sorta like me and Mr. W. The Dow Jones plummeting, businesses closing, job layoffs. Things are so bad, the Two Girls had to pawn their One Cup. (Go ahead, Jay Leno. Steal that joke. I double dog dare you.) Also, almost as improbable, the Chicago Ravens are #1 on the Purple Pimp Power Poll.

Exsqueeze me? Baking powder? Yup, the Ravens. Now maybe its because it is 3:45 AM and I have the flu and therefore am hopped up on a combo of Sudafed, NyQuil, and Franzia Chillable Red, plus whatever random crap is still in my bloodstream from last weekend-- THC, LSD, PCP, GHB, ERA, RBI, Value Over Replacement Player-- but yeah, you heard me.

Right now my mind is jumping from place to place, like the aging hipster forty year old guy with an earring and goatee at the gas station checkout who is almost in line, but hangs about five feet back absorbing the latest Brangelina headlines from US Weekly, then scans the candy rack for Tic-tacs, and then seems to be completely absorbed by a three dollar mini flashlight, but gets punch-you-in-the-head offended if you step in front of him to pay for your New England's Best coffee. So I'm in a good place right now. Not like you read the Purple Pimp due to my laser keen intellect or anything, but I like to bring a modicum of professionalism to the table. “Modicum” is a fun word to pronounce. What!?!

Sudafed is a douchebag.

So why do I like the Ravens? I call it the Sarah Palin Principle: it's so unexpected you should have seen it coming. A year ago Palin started showing up on national media (all I noticed at the time was that Craig Ferguson saw her MILF glasses and thought she was a “naughty librarian”); Chicago acquired gimpy but normally solid Steve Smith and Clinton Portis for next to nothing.

Clinton Portis may or may not have a Naughty Librarian press conference character in the works. I prefer not to know.

In August, we heard rumors about Palin as the Veep pick; in August, Bonk had a tremendous MFL draft. If I were smarter, I'd have predicted it months ago and put Mr. W. and Dr. K to shame. Larry Flynt got the Palin pick right and will make millions: his adult film “Nailin' Paylin” is the talk of the Internet. Google it if you think I'm making it up. Or not, if you're at work. I cannot confirm or deny that there is a horrific gay grandfather porn called “Ridin' Biden.” So for the sake of argument, I'll say yes, there is. Probably in Germany. Along with “My Cane 2008” and “Barack That Ass Up.”


So just about everyone in the MFL is still in contention, so why do I like the Ravens? Two words: starting runningbacks. The NFL has gone wacky with goal-line guys and change-of-pace guys. But Chicago has Portis and Forte, who are in traditional offenses and will get TDs as well as yards. The main problem with the MFL is not “Touchdown Vultures.” Those guys are awesome, as Jon Bruney can explain to you. They are reliable. I can win with a starting lineup of:

QB: Danny Tanner
RB: Brandon Jacobs
RB: Donna Jo “D.J.” Tanner
WR: Stephanie Tanner
WR: Michelle Tanner
TE: Uncle Joey
D/ST: Uncle Jessie
K: Garo Yepremian

No, it's “Touchdown Ninjas,” unexpected guys who leap from the shadows and assassinate your scoring total. Not sure what I mean? Let's say you have Ahmad Bradshaw. You know that on a first and goal from the one, Brandon Jacobs will get the carry. You die a little inside, but know you deserve it since you own Ahmad Bradshaw in a touchdowns-only league. On the other hand, let's say you have Michael Turner. He's run for a buck fiddy already and takes a well-deserved breather on a first down at the opponent's 31 yard line. You're excited that the Falcons are getting close to scoring position and might chalk up six points for you. Then Jerious Norwood gets a carry to the left, cuts back right, and blows through the defense for a touchdown.

You didn't see it coming.

The NFL got a whole lot more explosive these past couple years. Teams are using their first round picks on guys like DeAngelo Williams, Felix Jones, and Chris Johnson. Normally you would think that bruisers like Jonathan Stewart, Marion Barber, and LenDale White would be the must-have guys. But these newbies can score from anywhere on the field, so instead it's a 50/50 crapshoot as to who will find the endzone. And starting them is equally crapshooty. DeAngelo Williams hasn't scored in the MFL in two years, but he exploded for 15 points in week five, on the bench. Last week? Zero.

So welcome to the New Reality, where you cannot predict fantasy football or the stock market. This is unprecedented stuff in an unprecedented time. In a few weeks we will either elect our first black president, or our first female vice president. If I would have told you six months ago that Jeremy Bonk was the best owner in the MFL, you would have dismissed me as a deranged weirdo, probably with a pit in his basement, and also probably an aficionado of lotion and/or baskets. But today?

Chicago Ravens 2008. Yes We Can.


The Purple Pimp

Thursday, September 11


Sasquatch. UFOs. Watergate. They all pale in comparison to the shocking cover-up involved in MFL's Week One.

Let me set the stage... As the cliché goes, it was a dark and stormy night. Only it wasn't especially stormy. Maybe a little muggy. Not gulf coast level muggy, just a little muggier than usual. Kinda like how those Betty Crocker cakes with the pudding in the mix are slightly moister than a regular cake. That much muggier. But stormy, no.

Earlier that evening there was a get together at the friendly confines of Purple Pimp mansion to ring in the start of the new MFL season. Uncharacteristically, your host had turned in early. To be frank, I think it was an unusually tense game of Jarts with Erik Estrada that drained me so. (That Ponch is one competitive bastard.)

The doorbell rang.

Groggy from slumber and slightly tweaked from some cat tranquilizer Alektra Blue told me I just had to try, I figured it was Prince, who had left his diamond-encrusted thigh-high platform boots by the hot tub. “Come back tomorrow, you magnificent purple bastard!” I growled.

The bell continued to ring.

“For the last time, I am not letting you redecorate this place. I saw what you did to Carlos Boozer's house.”

Ring. Ring. Ring.

Finally I relented and shuffled to the door, and boy howdy was I glad I did. My guest was not Prince. She wore a dress that seemed painted on, hugging every curve of her body. If I had to guess, I'd say she was five foot ten. But then again, I'm terrible on guessing people's heights, and my vision was fading in and out thanks to the ketamine. But she was definitely gorgeous, with bright, lively eyes, pouty lips upturned slightly at the corners into a devious smile, and voluptuous breasts. It was the kind of body that made men want to have sex with her.

“Greeting, lovely Femme Fatale I will use as a narrative device in this column,” I said. “How can I help you?”

She sat down on the couch, stretching her perfect, six foot four inch legs. I took one more long glance at all seven foot three of her body, and began to pour two cognacs from the side bar.

“Mr. Purple Pimp. Let me be straightforward,” she said in a straightforward manner. “Tom Brady's injury was no fluke. He's faking. It is a conspiracy of the highest order. I know who did it, and I can prove it.”

I did a Danny Thomas spit-take with my cognac. “What are you talking about? And how would you know? Why are you mixed up in this? You are like eight foot two. You should be in the WNBA, not pursuing conspiracy theories.”

“First of all, I'm five foot four, five seven in heels. Secondly, pay attention. Remember in 1993 when Michael Jordan abruptly retired for no reason at all? After the Bulls had ripped off three straight titles and were a virtual lock for a fourth? And how there were rumors that it wasn't a retirement, but a suspension imposed by David Stern due to MJ's crippling gambling problem. Similar thing here.”

“I'm not sure where you're going with this, Miss, but I don't like it. And you're sure you're five four? I have a measuring tape in the kitchen junk-drawer if you don't mind. I mean, I was way off, there...”

“You see, the Patriots were too good last year. Brady and Moss shattered records. They piled up Eff You Touchdowns, turning close games into blowouts. They ruined both NFL football for non-Patriots fans, and fantasy football for non- Brady and Moss -havers. So the league had to do something. Enter SpyGate. The NFL conveniently closed the SpyGate investigation and destroyed the evidence, barely slapping the Pats on the wrist. But a bargain was struck.”

My mind was reeling, tossed around like a pinball in a pinball game being played by someone who was really good at hitting all of those rubber bumper things and then slapping the ball back with the flippers to get a ludicrously high score.

“You see,” she said, “Brady isn't hurt. He forfeited this season as punishment. Goodell made it clear: take a Sonny Liston dive, or the league will strongly consider taking your Super Bowl titles-- and perfect regular season-- away.”

“But that's stupid. All they have is the unsubstantiated word of a former video assistant / assistant golf pro. Why would Brady agree?”

“The deal was set up a year ago, before the Patriots knew all the evidence,” she said. Five-four? At least she wasn't a midget. Midgets creep me out a bit. Not as much as clowns, but enough to give me nightmares. At least Steven King never wrote a book about murderous midgets. She continued. “SpyGate itself was a setup. Who turned in the Patriots? The Jets, a divisional rival coached by Belichick protégé Eric Mangini. His reward: Brett Favre retires almost six months to the day later, is reinstated by Commissioner Goodell, and is immediately traded to the Jets, just in time for them to contend in the Brady-less AFC East.”

I poured myself another cognac. “Like two tons of elephant dung, this is some heavy sh*t. But what does this have to do with me? I'm just a lowly MFL blogger. Why not break your story to Peter King or something?”

She re-crossed her shapely, decidedly non-midget legs. “First, because you drink like a fish. A fish who smells like Remy Martin all the time instead of Starbucks hazelnut triple latte half caff. People will think you're being humorous and let it go instead of trying to silence you. This lets your column, as non-widely read as is, spread the truth via the Google cache. Oh, and while we're on the topic of silencing whistle-blowers, I suddenly want to take advantage of my second amendment rights. Do you have a gun I can borrow?”

“A hand gun, here in the Purple Pimp Mansion? Never. But my buddy Marvin can hook you up. Wait, he's in Minnesota on business this weekend. I'll have him call you.”

“Never mind, then. So secondly, remember what I said about how this affects not only the NFL, but fantasy leagues as well? Think about how the Eff You TD affects your touchdown only league. Last year, more teams than ever were involved at the trade deadline and contended for the playoffs. Lowly Arkdale went to the Super Bowl. Jeremy Bonk got e-mail! Now lets say that the Brady-led New York Lynx wins 12, and another East team locks up the wild card by week eight. Everyone else loses interest and the MFL suffers. But a Brady-less New York makes both the East division and the wild card an adventure.”

“Go on...”

“Now who would want there to be increased interest in the league, along with the implicit promise that anybody can win? Especially heading into next year's proposed expansion and division realignment? And who has Randy Moss on his team, the same Randy Moss who did not take the Sonny Liston dive like his teammate and should still put up decent numbers even without Brady?”


“Someone who has big time leverage, since in 1994 he witnessed Roger Goodell smoke inhuman amounts of PCP and strangle an alcoholic drifter with a bicycle chain in order to get an erection?”


“Here's a final hint: what drug did Alektra Blue give you earlier this evening? Special _”

I poured one final cognac. When I turned back around, she was gone.

And so I commit these words to paper. Right now, I don't know what I know, if you know what I mean. (And I don't.) But when it comes to conspiracy theories, these things I do know: Watergate happened, UFOs exist, and Sasquatch is real. Oh, and that he's probably taller than five foot seven in heels.


The Purple Pimp