Post by def on Dec 14, 2019 23:19:48 GMT -6
Strange gibberish coming through the FAX machine...it is too late, the whiskey is running low and I fret a late night run in the drizzly freezing sleet and snow on a cold Saturday night. But what the fuck? I have AAA and crazier things have happened where the ghetto meets the meadow...and the fax machine won't quit...it's like strange directions from some far off planet...
Take the Over...
Driskell is better than Blough...
The whole team is on the IR, they are thinking of calling up The Washington General to play football in Lions uniforms...
The catastrophe known as Lions Football continues with no end in sight. From 1958 until now, a blistering pace of futility only parallelled by religion itself. It is a known fact that more people have died in religious wars than have waited for the Lions to win a Super Bowl, but not by much. Generations of families have perished at the hands of bad passes, untimely fumbles, agonies of defeat, horrible coaches and dropped passes and this has always been The Lions Way. To keep it close, to instill the littlest of hopes in attempt to drive the die hard fan crazy then whammo! They pull the rug out from under us, like Lucy pulling the rock from Charlie Brown, he falls for it every time, face first into the muck of the playing field like a heroic loser. And that's what the Lions are: heroic losers and then some, they amp up every year, show promise then about mid season the big whiff comes, only to recoup their talent and moral for next year's paycheck and another wretched draft pick, much further down the trough than anticipated. At this rate, we will go from in the running for Burrow, to the 3rd rated QB on the list, whatever hash Mel Kiper Jr. is smoking these days. All I know is that no QB from any Michigan school is worth his weight in nickels so head out West, where they can practice 2/7 and 365 days a year.
The roads haven't been salted yet and already I have swerved to avoid at least three bucks in the last two weeks. They come out at night when the evil humans are done roaming the streets. They are tame beasts here, often seen galloping through the parking lot or front lawn and once a week some poor buck will be sideways on the side of the road, tongue hanging out and blood all over the pavement. It's bad enough looking out for police when making a whiskey run at midnight, but add in unruly bucks into the mix and it's a proverbial recipe for disaster.
My bookie seems to think the over is a lock. So I am going with that even though I told him Blough could fold like a cheap suit at a moment's notice, but then again he could blossom. I find that if I bet on the Lions I always lose, but when I don't bet I lose too. So I am betting the OVER, a case of Old Crow, the good shit, when the world is a little salty and the air too cold to breathe. And to any Bears fans, that cocky smirk on Trubinsky's face said it all and I hope that asshat throws 3 picks and is benched, because he doesn't deserve stardom. He is a cock smoker.
That is all for now. Time to hit the road before the liquor store closes.
Take the Over...
Driskell is better than Blough...
The whole team is on the IR, they are thinking of calling up The Washington General to play football in Lions uniforms...
The catastrophe known as Lions Football continues with no end in sight. From 1958 until now, a blistering pace of futility only parallelled by religion itself. It is a known fact that more people have died in religious wars than have waited for the Lions to win a Super Bowl, but not by much. Generations of families have perished at the hands of bad passes, untimely fumbles, agonies of defeat, horrible coaches and dropped passes and this has always been The Lions Way. To keep it close, to instill the littlest of hopes in attempt to drive the die hard fan crazy then whammo! They pull the rug out from under us, like Lucy pulling the rock from Charlie Brown, he falls for it every time, face first into the muck of the playing field like a heroic loser. And that's what the Lions are: heroic losers and then some, they amp up every year, show promise then about mid season the big whiff comes, only to recoup their talent and moral for next year's paycheck and another wretched draft pick, much further down the trough than anticipated. At this rate, we will go from in the running for Burrow, to the 3rd rated QB on the list, whatever hash Mel Kiper Jr. is smoking these days. All I know is that no QB from any Michigan school is worth his weight in nickels so head out West, where they can practice 2/7 and 365 days a year.
The roads haven't been salted yet and already I have swerved to avoid at least three bucks in the last two weeks. They come out at night when the evil humans are done roaming the streets. They are tame beasts here, often seen galloping through the parking lot or front lawn and once a week some poor buck will be sideways on the side of the road, tongue hanging out and blood all over the pavement. It's bad enough looking out for police when making a whiskey run at midnight, but add in unruly bucks into the mix and it's a proverbial recipe for disaster.
My bookie seems to think the over is a lock. So I am going with that even though I told him Blough could fold like a cheap suit at a moment's notice, but then again he could blossom. I find that if I bet on the Lions I always lose, but when I don't bet I lose too. So I am betting the OVER, a case of Old Crow, the good shit, when the world is a little salty and the air too cold to breathe. And to any Bears fans, that cocky smirk on Trubinsky's face said it all and I hope that asshat throws 3 picks and is benched, because he doesn't deserve stardom. He is a cock smoker.
That is all for now. Time to hit the road before the liquor store closes.
