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As we launch this pre-holiday edition of the Perfect Football Weekend™, Denizens, I find myself having lost all respect for one Adrian Peterson of the Minne-haha ViQueens.

No, not because he drew a tiny dollop of blood when he spanked his son a little too hard with a switch.  (As an aside…Steffi Dawn Stewart, I trust you’re not taking it easy on our son when it comes to discipline.  I would hate to think he turned out…well, like you.)

No, I’ve lost respect for the man because he caved in to the NFL and promised “never to use a switch as discipline on any of his children again”.

“I won’t ever use a switch again,” Peterson told USA Today Sports in his first extensive public remarks since being indicted for reckless or negligent injury to a child. “There’s different situations where a child needs to be disciplined as far as timeout, taking their toys away, making them take a nap. There’s so many different ways to discipline your kids.”

[...]

Commissioner Roger Goodell, in a statement announcing Peterson’s suspension, was critical of the star running back, saying, “You have shown no meaningful remorse for your conduct.”

And what the ever-loving fuck  do you  know about “discipline”, Roger Goodfella?  Hell – you  thought it was okay to only suspend Ray Rice two fucking games!!!

Bastard.

As for you, Peterson – thanks for letting us know your kids are now gonna grow up to be just like the doucherifles over there in Ferguson, MO.

See, Denizens, this is what I rail about when I scream bloody murder about the pussification of America.  Peterson’s kid probably had a spanking coming, but because a droplet of blood emanated from his butt-ocks (a little Forrest Gump lingo, there), the metrosexual pansy-assed dickless wonders that make up the Low-Information Lunatic Lickspittles™ of our society clutch their pearls, acquire Teh Vapors™ and decry what, fifty to sixty years ago, this society would have roundly cheered.

And then we wonder how we could have elected an illegal Kenyan bastard to the White House – twice – and then just sit, whine & kvetch when he goes and blatantly violates the Constitution instead of manning up, getting off our asses and going and doing  something about it.

Thanks, A.P.

Dumbass.

Let’s get on with the football.  My Arlington Heights Yellow Jackets have a chance to do what no Fort Worth “hah skrewl” (a little Rush lingo, there) team has done in nearly 15 years:  Win an area football playoff game.

They have Wichita Falls Rider tonight at 7:30 in Mineral Wells.  Rider & Heights look to be pretty evenly matched – they beat White Settlement Brewer by more than did Heights, but didn’t beat Grapevine by as many as Heights did.  They’re capable of putting up points, but they can also give them up, too.  Should be a good game.

Sunday, Andy Dalton’s Cincinnati Bengals come to the Southern Command™ to take on Supreme General Rayegun’s Texans.  If they can keep J.J. Watt out of the endzone (either offensively or defensively), they might have a shot.  Vegas has the Texans as a two-point home favorite, which translates to a toss-up.  I guess it’ll depend on whether Ryan FitzPatrick takes the field.

TCU is off this week, so we’ll have four wildcard games: Rock Chalk to go into Norman and give #21 Oklahoma a scare (and if Kansas does  pull off the upset, they’ll be calling for Bob Stoops’ head before the night’s out), #25 UMinnesota to have a letdown game against #23 Nebraska (and believe me, I’d love for Jerry Kill’s bunch to go in and upset Bo Pelini’s kids, but I just don’t see it happening), eighth-ranked Ole Miss to give Ar-kansas a shellacking in Fayetteville (I will never pick the Hogs for anything, ever), and Liberty U. to get their asses whipped at Coastal Carolina.  (Sorry, Turner – I was gonna pick you…but then I saw whom you were playing, and you couldn’t beat ‘em at home last year, so…(shrug))

We’re back Monday for the recap.  (And it will  be Monday, too – tune into this channel tomorrow to learn why.  (Hint:  This is as close to a countdown  as you guys are gonna get this year.  One.))

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(Hat tip to the Emperor.)

This makes me fucking sick.

Go ahead.

Watch it.

If you fucking dare.

I watched the whole thing.

Now I need some industrial-strength brain bleach.

Ew.  Just.  Effing.  Ew. 

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NHO WHAI!!!!!!!

Yes whai, and if you thought not you’d better go check out this article and then go look up Jeremiah Wright, and Jim Wallis.

Aw, come on! Is that all you got?! >

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Last week, two girls “hah skrewl” (a little Rush lingo, there) basketball teams played a game.  And one team showed obvious superiority over the other.  Perhaps you heard about it.

Kinda reminded me of some of the games I had to witness between my Arlington Heights Yellow Jackets and Fort Worth Dunbar’s perennial Texas HS champion Wildcats.  (For the Uninitiated™, I was the Jackets’ BB manager at the time, so I didn’t have much choice – I had  to watch those debacles.)  In fact, I imagine a few of you SMUT types could probably relate.  Especially those of you who were around for a certain game back in 1989.

Anyway, yesterday – after the head coach expressed disagreement with the wimp-assed apology offered by the school’s excuse-for-a-headmaster – said headmaster canned said coach.

It goes a long way towards showing, IYAM, just how pussified our country has become.  A coach’s team runs it up on an opponent who, quite frankly, shouldn’t even be on the same court with any team in that league in the first place, and that coach gets his ass bitched at and dumped.  Hell™ – as much uproar as there is over this nationally, it’s a damned wonder said winning coach hasn’t yet been accused of child abuse.

Don’t get me wrong.  I’m all for sportsmanship.  But I also think that, if you’re going to play, play.  Dallas Academy’s coach could have chosen to take his team off the floor after three quarters – or better yet, refused to come out after halftime – and the score would have automatically become 2-0.  Two-zip doesn’t quite look as imposing as 100-0, y’know?

But DA’s coach didn’t do that.  He kept running them out there, and they kept trying.  And they kept failing.

And there’s no shame in that.

I mean, c’mon.  This is a high-school game, for Cthulu’s sake.  No one’s fewwings  are going to be long-term hurt over this.  No one is going to suffer some sort of psychosis over being on the short end of a 100-0 score.  For there to be this  kind of reaction to the final score – and for the winning coach to lose his job over it – is just flat-out asinine in the extreme.

But that’s what you get when you’ve become a country full of pussies.

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If you go down the sidebar a bit, just before you get to the StatCounter, you’ll see this:

That comes from a little something over which the pussified Republicans in Snohomish County, WA, got their panties in a slight bunch.

A controversial three dollar bill may have brought Republicans and Democrats together to agree on something.

The bill, which was sold at the Evergreen State Fair’s Republican Party booth in Snohomis County, Washingotn, features Democratic presidential nominee Sen. Barack Obama wearing a headdress, propelling a widespread myth that he is Muslim.

Except I’m not so terribly sure that is is  a myth, y’know?

Some call it a joke, but not everyone is laughing.

Which just goes to show you how linguini-spined the Republican party has become in Washington State.  But then, that’s what happens when the only “principle” for which one stands there is “Ooooooh, pwease wike me – pweeeeeze???”

Obama is, in fact, a Christian.

Yeah, well, that’s  eminently open for debate.

Carol Ronken snapped a picture of the bill, and then called the local newspaper. “It’s racist. It’s disgusting,” said Ronken.

Carol, honeybunch, you’re  full of shit, bitchy and repulsive.  So how’s it feel having invective tossed back at you like that, hm?

Republican county chair Geri Modrell said she never approved the bill, but insisted the bills were nothing more than a very bad joke. She has asked volunteers to put them away.

And had I been a volunteer, I’d have told her to go pound sand.  It’s a damn funny novelty item, and it’s sure to piss off Demoscum.

Which, of course, is why it’s now on my sidebar.

Cheri DeShaw, whose booth sat right across from the Republican Party’s at the fair, said she has heard an earful from visitors.

Oh, I’m sure she has.  And I’m equally sure that she’s faced them with puppy-dog eyes, begging for forgiveness for something she didn’t even do.  And then the Washington State GOP wonders why few like them.

To them, I say this:  Lookie here, chumps.  The Constitution guarantees us freedom of speech – even speech that happens to offend folks from time to time.  No one has a right to never be offended, and the quicker you jackasses up there learn that, the better.  Besides, if you whine and whimper apologies to every buttmunch who ever gets “offended” about something, that’s all you’ll ever spend your time doing.

Not terribly productive, if you ask me.

Modrell said she is working to track down the person responsible, but does not plan to conduct an intensive investigation. She said it is tough enough to recruit volunteers and does not want to alienate another.

“It’s not the policy of this party to use that low level sense of humor,” Modrell said.

Yeah, well, Geri, maybe it should be.  And maybe you should re-evaluate your definition of “low level sense of humor”.

Moreover, you should track down the creator of that bill ASAP.

To buy him a beer.

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Item:  A Dallas banker purchases the house formerly owned by the late Stanley Marcus (for the Uninitiated™, that’s the  Stanley Marcus of Needless Markups Neiman Marcus fame).  He announces plans to demolish the house, citing “energy concerns”.  Maybe it’s a bugger to heat & cool, I dunno.

Because it’s supposedly an historical landmark (why, I’ve no clue – I mean, I know the rich worshipped ol’ Stanley, but really, now), the banker sent notification to the Texas Historical Commission.  This triggered a 60-day waiting period, after which no one had a whole lotta say-so in whether he razed the house or not.

Item:  A number of “preservationists” – i.e, a hornet’s nest worth of fucking nosy-assed busybodies who apparently have nothing better to do than wring their hands in severe angst over property that’s not theirs and try and tell the owners of said property what they ought to should must  do with said property, scream bloody murder about the proposed razing.

Aw, come on! Is that all you got?! >

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(Hat tip to the Emperor.)

And not to put too fine a point on it, the formidable Frank J’s wife, the equally formidable SarahK, delivers a roundhouse steel-toed boot to the Professional Victim Nation™…which, apparently, now includes the Rutgers nappy-headed hos their own selfs.

I mean, really.

Meanwhile the Rutgers women’s basketball team appeared Thursday on the Oprah Winfrey show to discuss the controversy. “Not only did he steal our dreams, he hurt our character of Rutgers University, our state, and all who have been associated,” Rutgers Head Coach C. Vivian Stringer said on the show.

Good Gawd A’mighty™, tell me they didn’t just do that.  Please  tell me they didn’t just go on Okrah Ofrah that fat-assed broad’s collective vibrator-jerk and throw their own little pity party???

F.E.J.F.E, as far as I’m concerned.  Fuck the entire lot of ‘em.

Imus was right.

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Not that I’m a fan of Don Imus, okay?  Quite the opposite, in fact – I think he’s an asshole.

But, c’mon.  He’s getting all this (the latest being his canning by (P)MSNBC) for “nappy-headed hos”?

Puh-leeeeeeze.  Isn’t there enough real  news going on without this Salacious Sideshow of Suckitude™?

And a quick bitch-slap to the Rutgers bitches – who apparently have led the absolute most sheltered lives in recorded history, despite the fact that they go to school in frackin’ Noo Joisey, for fuck’s sake – because their widdle feewings are hurt:

In their first comments about Imus’ remarks, the team talked Tuesday about how the insult stung. Some of the women wiped away tears as their coach, C. Vivian Stringer, criticized Imus for “racist and sexist remarks that are deplorable, despicable, abominable and unconsionable” the day after they reached the NCAA finals.

The young women, half of them freshmen and eight of them black, expressed incredulity at how someone they’ve never met could say such a thing about them.

“All of our accomplishments were lost … we were stripped of this moment by the degrading comments made by Mr. Imus,” said Heather Zurich, a sophomore forward.

Don’t get out much, do you, bimbos?

Hell, I’ve been called every vile name in the book, and even some that ain’t  in the book.  (Google “Lord Spatula” if you don’t believe me.)  You don’t hear me  whining about “racist and sexist remarks that are deplorable, despicable, abominable and unconsionable”, do you?

Grow a pair, ladies.  Grow several pair, in fact.  Move the fuck on and forget about it.  Your pissy-faced reaction to all this has given it a shelf life at least one week longer (and still going) than it would’ve gotten otherwise.

Damn, but our society has become pussified. 

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