Big Daddy Drew's Thursday Afternoon NFL Dick Joke Jamboroo previews the upcoming weekend of the NFL every, well, every Thursday afternoon.
I do 90 percent of all my NFL viewing from the couch in my living room. Due to a long history of back problems, no doubt exacerbated by my love of Nutella, I cannot sit upright on the couch with any comfort. I must lay sideways on it, with a pillow between my knees. Federal health inspectors have ordered me to incinerate and replace my crotch pillow after every 40 days of use. My wife is convinced that years of accommodating my fat ass have left a sizable depression in the center of the couch.
Mrs.: We have to replace that couch.
Mrs.: Because it's sagging the middle.
Me: No, it isn't.
Mrs.: Yes, it is.
Me: No, it isn't.
Mrs.: Yes, it is.
Me: No, it isn't.
Mrs.: Yes, it is. You keep laying on it, and now it's not comfy to sit on.
Me: Why can't you just love me?
I'm assuming one day my wife will simply replace the couch without consulting me. And I'm all right with that, as that means I won't have to take any sort of action. Because that's what watching the NFL is all about: inaction. It's about spending an entire day doing as little as humanly possible. Work is for the players. I prefer to remain flat and lifeless, like a dried-out Saharan riverbed.
To that end, it's important that you not only try and make your viewing setup nice and comfortable, but that you make it extremely uninviting to potentially distracting visitors and family members. Even if I could sit up on my couch, I wouldn't, because that would be an open invitation to other people to sit on the couch. And I don't want that. I like to monopolize the entire room, so that everyone else feels unwelcome.
I also like sticking my hand down my mesh shorts, like so.
It's important to make sure that wrist extends well past the waistband. You need to get a firm grip on those nuts, or else your wife will come grab them, and force you to do things like look at paint sample books, shop for guest room linens, and such and such. Not cool. Don't forget to sniff those fingers occasionally. It smells bad, but it also smells kinda good. I can't help myself. I'm also a big fan of not showering, talking only to the screen ("Run a goddamn draw, motherfuckers!"), and leaving all the lights off in the room, so that I blend in with the scenery.
I only get 21 weekends of this a year. So, to be blunt, I'm goddamn entitled to act like a college sophomore who's just getting over a bad case of scarlet fever. And so are you.
All games in the Jambaroo are evaluated for sheer watchability on a scale of 1 to 5 Throwgasms.
Broncos at Colts: Bronco Superfan Tim McKernan, aka Barrel Man, is apparently retiring. I don't really understand how you retire from being a fan. It's not, you know, a job. Nevertheless, we should probably pay a quick tribute to Tim, who showed up to every game wearing nothing but a barrel. Which, judging by McKernan's frame, was not something he considered a piece of novelty clothing. On the contrary, it appears the barrel fit Tim like a glove. According to the article:
McKernan had serious health issues in 2003, when an abdominal aneurysm ruptured. "I still don't have any stamina," he said.
I, naturally, am curious as to when McKernan had any stamina to begin with. This guy couldn't drive a 10K, much less run one, regardless of tummy problems. Still, I salute his 30 years of service showing up for games dressed in a barrel, even though no one asked him to, and even though I'm not sure what the barrel is supposed to signify. There's probably a hole in that barrel somewhere. I doubt you want to go looking for it.
Patriots at Bengals: Though it's a long shot, I'd like to see the Bengals pull off the upset here. But, more importantly, I'd like Carson Palmer to find a store that can sell him an upper lip, because I'll be damned if the guy wasn't born without a mustache landing pad. Maybe he and Tate Donovan could share one. When Palmer smiles, he looks like he just smelled a stale fart.
Steelers at Cardinals: Russ Grimm and Ken Whisenhunt vow to strike a blow against Affirmative Action when they host the Steelers and the cocky young black guy who...
But there's additional intrigue to this battle. Kurt Warner, aka "Mark Rypien Jr.," stepped in last week and nearly rallied the Cardinals to a victory against the Ravens. I think Warner was getting a little bit tired of Jon Kitna taking over the mantle of Official Quarterback Of God. Christians, as you well know, get extremely competitive with one another about just who is giving the most glory to God. After all, the Heavenly Father has many, many children. Surely, he has a favorite or two. I bet his favorite sons get first dibs on nailing Miss Elizabeth up in heaven.
Bears at Lions: Sitting in between the false bravado of Rex Grossman and the drunken everyman that is Kyle Orton is Brian Griese. As you may or may not know, I "interviewed" Griese last year before the season began, and "talked" to him point blank about my good friend Jeremy, who had sex with his ex-girlfriend, who was a cheerleader at Florida State. I'd like to think having sex with an FSU cheerleader is one of those things in life you never stop being proud of. But I'd never know. The only time I had a sexual encounter with a cheerleader was when I dressed up as Maria Bello in A History Of Violence and re-envisioned her sex scene as a one-man play.
Bucs at Panthers: Either the Bucs are surprisingly good, or the NFC is just a total shitheap. I think I'll go with the latter.
Seahawks at Niners
Eagles at Giants
Chiefs at Chargers: Michael Silver this week argued, quite well I might add, that the Chargers should shitcan Norv Turner right now and either promote Ron Rivera or rehire Marty Schottenheimer, so that they at least have a chance of regaining their footing for the year. What's astonishing to me is that we're only three games into the season, and Norv Turner has already fucked up so badly that major figures in sports journalism are proclaiming him a complete train wreck. I'm not sure anyone has fucked something up so badly in such a small amount of time. Except perhaps...
Check out this quote Silver got from a former Oakland player:
"That team is a mess, and you know the players are wondering what the hell is going on... They're looking to Norv for answers and leadership, and they won't get it."
And that's from a guy in Oakland! If anyone knows something about fucking up, it's that guy. That place is loaded with shabby leadership. Even in Oakland, Turner stood out as incompetent. Holy shit.
Ravens at Browns
Raiders at Dolphins: Back in the late 80's, I liked to strap on my Walkman, lie on my bed, listen to "The Call Of The Ktulu" by Metallica very loud and go into a deep and dark place in my mind. Just me and my anger. I imagine this game and the four below it can produce the same effect.
Rams at Cowboys
Packers at Vikings
Jets at Bills
Texans at Falcons
Five Players Who Could Fuck Your Fantasy Team Over
• Brian Leonard (RB) - He's starting, but the Rams may not run more than 15 times.
• Clinton Portis (RB) - He's on a bye. My logic is ironclad.
• Antonio Gates (TE) - This is the week LT gets the ball 700 times.
• Steve Smith (WR) - Good Tampa pass D plus girly QB = another dud week
• Marc Bulger (QB) - Oh, NOW you tell us about your 3 cracked ribs? Thanks for nothing, dickface,
Five Players You Might Want To Think About Starting, Only To Have Them Screw You Regardless Of What You End Up Choosing To Do
• Greg Jennings (WR) - No one can run against the Vikings. Then again, running against the Vikings isn't necessary in any way, shape or form.
• Cedric Benson (RB) - Teams in a rut go to the ground game...
• Brian Griese (QB) - ...and, if they're playing the Lions, the passing game as well.
• Brandon Marshall (WR) - I have no pithy remarks about Brandon Marshall.
• Chad Pennington (QB) - His favorite restaurant is Cracker Barrel. And hey, who doesn't like crayon mazes on place mats?!
NOTE: All fantasy advice poorly researched and inserted here strictly to confuse you. Last week I suggested benching Derek Anderson, Reggie Bush, and Anquan Boldin, all of whom scored two TD's. In fact, I STARTED Anderson last week, going against the advice of this column. So even I think I'm a retard. Oh, I also suggested starting Lee Evans, Chester Taylor, and Jeff Garcia. Don't thank me. Just send me a portion of your losings.
Five Potential Key Injuries
• Steven Jackson (groin)
• Steven Jackson Owners (slashed wrists)
• Kevin Curtis (aggravated letdown)
• Kyle Boller (full body vitiligo)
• Rudi Johnson (Kenny Watson)
This Week's Suicide Pick
Last week's suicide pool pick of New England was correct. Now that the Pats are off the board, I'm kind of fucked. We again pick a suicide pool team and a way of committing actual suicide. This week's pick: Dallas, and constructing a guillotine to chop your own head off (credit to Rob Iracane). Let's hear a quote from the police chief on this one:
"I can't even tell you how long it must have taken him to construct," he said. "This man obviously was very determined to end his life."
Indeed. I think there's something truly awesome about making your death your crowning lifetime achievement. Making death life's payoff is a razor sharp idea. That's a life that has a straight upward trajectory, my friends. I think this guy's family should bronze his head, and the wicker basket it fell in.
Gametime Snack Of The Week
Curly fries. Sure, regular fries are tasty. But man, they sure are straight. Curly fries are both delicious and make me feel like I'm playing with a Slinky. The curly shape also provides better ketchup retention, as I can drag the curly fry through the ketchup and sort of fill it up, like a cannoli. Plus, curly fries have spicy shit on them. I don't know what's in the spicy shit. Probably paprika. And suet. Regardless, it's fucking nice. Curly fries look like springs, yet they are completely devoid of springing action, which is exactly how I feel after eating a basket.
Gametime Cheap Beer Of The Week
Bull Ice. Holy shit, you do not fuck with Bull Ice. Take Bull Ice lightly and you will end up lying on the floor of a bread truck covered in blood and sawdust. According to the label, this is "high gravity ice brewed malt liquor." And that "high gravity" claim is no joke. One sip of Bull Ice increases gravity threefold. Your natural attraction to the ground will never be stronger. Think Coldcock was a strong malt liquor? Bull Ice is 8.2 percent alcohol and 91.8 percent wood polish. A friend of mine finished two 40's of Bull Ice once. He immediately went on a five-state killing spree. And he didn't remember a single second of it.
By the way, if you ever wanted to understand just how fucking annoying beer snobs are, check out these reviews of Bull Ice. "Fine sudsy lacing"? What a fucking dipshit.
Sunday Afternoon Film Of The Week For Bills Fans
Nobody's Fool, based on a book by Richard Russo that I have not read. Russo was a professor at my college. And by "professor," I mean "famous guy who is technically on the faculty but hasn't set foot on campus in over a decade." Instead, my creative writing class was taught by Russo's friend, an incredibly nice man who, after I graduated, became a woman. Needless to say, he was not a fan of my work.
Nobody's Fool is a fucking great movie, and not just because Paul Newman gives one of his greatest performances. No, the whole key to the movie's success is the cameo made by Melanie Griffith's tits halfway through. I know Griffith's face and body are now comprised mainly of joint compound. But in 1994, her breasts looked pretty goddamn good. Memorable quote: "You don't need a leg. You need a parrot."
Gratuitous Simpsons Quote
"He's a foreigner who takes perverted videos of you when you least expect it. He's Rowdy Roddy Peeper!"
Halftime Masturbation Kit
• For the guys: Laetitia Casta. Bathe her, and bring her to me.
• For the gals: Aussie actor Guy Pearce, who cleans up pretty nice when he isn't playing a character who's gone showerless for seventeen consecutive weeks.
Blatantly False, ProFootballTalk-Style, Fred Edelstein-esque Rumor Of The Week
WE HEAR... that Fox studio host Curt Menefee has not spoken with biological son Kenan Thompson in over twelve years.
Three Questions Sideline Reporters Should Ask But Won't
• "Reggie, when do you plan on being good?"
• "Peyton! Peyton! I saw into your mind. It was completely devoid of any sexual thoughts. Why am I not surprised?"
• "Rex! What are you still doing here?"
Your Motivational Pregame Quote for The Weekend
"You think I'm some guinea fresh off the boat, and you can kick me! But I'm too big for that now! I'm sick a' taking this crap from you, Leo. I'm sick a' marching into this goddamn office to kiss your Irish ass! And I'm sick a' the high hat!"
Last week, I forgot to correct an error in the Week 2 Jamboroo that said Tony Romo's botched snap against Seattle in the playoffs was on an extra point attempt. It was a field goal attempt. I also traded for Lee Evans last week. I'd like to correct that, but fucking Fleaflicker won't let me.
Reader Andrew Z. would also like me to stop mentioning him in the Jamboroo. He writes:
"I've been bombarded the last two Thursdays with emails, the gist being: 'Dude, you're so gay.' More so than usual."
Noted, Andrew Z. I absolutely will not mention your name in the column again, Andrew Z. No more Andrew Z. here!
Enjoy the games, everyone. Especially you, Andrew Z.!