Big Daddy Drew's Thursday Afternoon NFL Dick Joke Jamboroo previews the upcoming weekend of the NFL every, well, every Thursday afternoon.
Larry Allen plays for the 49ers these days. And even though he's on the downside of his career, toiling away for an absolutely putrid team, Allen still holds the title of the NFL's strongest man. And this isn't some anecdotal bullshit. He won the NFL's Strongest Man competition at the Pro Bowl last year by benching 225 lbs. 43 times. In other words, it was a good toning exercise for him.
Allen has benched 700 pounds before, and he has a partial squat of 900 lbs. What's a partial squat? That's when your wrap up your knees up real tight, lay the bar across your shoulders and begin to squat down only to realize you're squatting 900 fucking pounds. It's not a full squat. But who gives a shit? It's still a pretty spectacular achievement — one that, frankly, I am not able to comprehend with my tiny little brain.
Sometimes we forget just how fucking physically awesome some of these guys are. I remember when being able to bench 135 lbs. in high school was a big deal. As you probably know, a barbell with 135 lbs. is one that has a 45 lb. plate (the biggest plate) on each side. As a guy, you HAVE to be able to do this, because when you're bench-pressing with just a 35 lb. plate or, God forbid, a 25 lb. plate on either side of the barbell, you look like a goddamn pussy. You feel like a goddamn pussy. And you ARE a goddamn pussy. Worst of all, you have to spend weeks and weeks looking like said pussy if you want to be able to the bench the weight that makes you look like a semi-functional male human being that can kill bugs and have sex with other people.
That's why we men tend to gravitate towards the weightlifting exercises that allow us to use the most weight. I know it's better for you to use less weight and go for more reps. But fuck that. The whole point of lifting weights is to LOOK strong. And you can't do that by doing 20 lbs. eighty times on the preacher curl. That's gay. That's why I'm a big fan of shrugs. You just load that barbell up with a shitload of plates, pick it up (off the rack!), lift your shoulders two inches, and then put it back down again. One set, of one. Easy AND impressive. That's working out with your head!
I'm also a big fan of the leg press. You, of course, remember our good friend Pat Robertson, who claimed he could leg press over 2,000 pounds. Well, of course Pat can leg press 2,000 pounds. EVERYONE can. I think the sled on the leg press machine is motorized, for God's sake. Load it up, extend your legs, bend them to 172 degrees (don't forget to let out an accidental fart!) and repeat. That is some strong-looking activity right there.
That's what makes players like Larry Allen so incredible. He's not just bullshit strong like you or me (mostly me). He's strong at the legitimately challenging shit: bench, squat, clean, dead lift, scrotum hang, etc. You know how you or I need a baby to be trapped under a car before we can produce the adrenaline rush needed to lift that car over our heads? Allen doesn't need that baby. He's doesn't need SHIT. He can just pick it up, twirl it around on his finger, then yell out "Grape Ape!" and have everyone cheer.
Allen, as I noted, can bench 700 pounds. That's seven plates on each side, plus a little extra. I'm not sure the bar even goes that wide. He maxed that shit out. When he gets inducted into the Hall of Fame in a few years, he can simply shape the bust with his hands. Even in his twilight, the man is a beast. And there are some in the league who are, if not his equal, pretty damn close.
So here's to you, Larry Allen. You're not as strong as an ox. You make an ox look like Kevin fucking Durant.
It's the end of the bye weeks, so we should be in for a real treat as every team once again takes the... wait a second. These games SUCK! Damn you, lack of quality coaches and consistent quarterbacking!
All games in the Jamboroo are evaluated for sheer watchability on a scale of 1 to 5 Throwgasms.
Redskins at Cowboys: Dan Snyder could go 2-14 every year and be happy about it so long as both those wins were against the Cowboys. Someone needs to alert Lil' Mussolini that this isn't college fucking football. They all count the same, shrimp-boy. Have fun losing by 20. Asshat.
Giants at Lions: Each week, I grade these games on a curve. You can obviously tell from this matchup.
Patriots at Bills: This is the Sunday night flex game. NBC chose this one. You're gonna be seeing a lot of the Patriots at night from now on, considering NBC would be willing to settle for this 30-point shitfest.
Bears at Seahawks: Rex! Big throws! Boners! Interceptions! Fucking! Fumbled center exchanges! Rubber corsets!
Chiefs at Colts
Chargers at Jaguars
Panthers at Packers
Saints at Texans
Titans at Broncos
Raiders at Vikings: And... my favorite team just became unwatchable. Fuck me in the ass with a yardstick.
Dolphins at Eagles
Bucs at Falcons
Browns at Ravens
Cardinals at Bengals
Steelers at Jets
Rams at Niners
Pregame Song That Makes Me Want To Run Through A Goddamn Brick Wall
"Just You Wait", by The Paybacks. The Paybacks are fronted by Wendy Case. Ever wonder what Iggy Pop would look like with no penis and a less stringy physique? Here you go. Wendy ain't the cutest lady rock star in the world (that would be Brett Anderson of The Donnas. Grrr!). She makes Chrissy Hynde look downright feminine. But Case sure knows how to rock with her proverbial cock out.
I'm tired of the women's rock movement being represented solely by Melissa Etheridge, Sheryl Crow and Vixen. There need to be more women rock stars who are willing to debase themselves just as much as men, to the point where they are damn near indistinguishable. Wendy Case can do that. And, even though she's 80 lbs, she could clearly kick my ass in 10 seconds or less. I respect that. Brodie Dalle can only do it in under 20.
Embarrassing Cassingle I Once Owned That Will Not Fire You Up
"Forever," by Kiss. Back in late 80's and early 90's, Kiss decided to take a break from being the world's most overrated band, and decided to concentrate on merely being the world's shittiest one. But man, did I love this song.
When I was in eighth grade, there was a girl I liked. And by "liked," I mean, "stalked for three years." I used to listen to this song on my Walkman, along with various other power ballads, and daydream about the various scenarios in which we would end up together. Being the only two survivors in a nuclear holocaust was a good one. Saving her from being raped was also big. I also liked to fantasize about foiling a terrorist plot to take over the school, ala "Toy Soldiers," and receiving sex from her as gratitude. Those were all solid fantasies. I had issues.
At my middle school in Minnesota, the big thing was asking someone to "go" with you. As in, "Oh, Steve and Stacy are going." I must have asked this girl to go with me 17 times. And every time, she said no. But she always did it in such a nice way that I ended up liking her all the more for it, and trying again and again. So a note to you seventh grade ladies on rejecting an unwanted would-be "goer" at your school: Just be a real bitch about it. Otherwise, you'll never shake that jackass for good. Don't drag that shit out.
As for me, I'm totally over that chick. All my surveillance equipment is now used to track Christina Ricci's daily activities. She strikes me as a far easier mark.
Fantasy Player That Deserves To Die A Slow, Painful Death
Shaun Alexander. Fuck you, Shaun Alexander. I think it's pretty much a hard and fast fantasy rule now: Any running back that signs a big contract extension should dropped five rounds on everyone's draft board. Shaun Alexander, you are the poster boy for getting a lucrative extension, only to immediately turn around and drop right into the shitter. You suck. I hope a crazed fan in Seattle uses the "angler" attachment on his Swiss Army knife to scrape your insides out, you underachieving bastard. You were supposed to have a resurgence this year, you prick. Why aren't you resurging? Follow the script, God dammit.
Five Potential Key Injuries
• Adrian Peterson (knee)
• Al Harris (my unending rage)
• Rex Grossman (prolonged engorgement)
• Matt Hasselbeck (Steve Rushin Lookalike Syndrome)
• Peyton Manning (Antonio Cromartie)
This Week's Suicide Pick
Last week's suicide pool pick of New Orleans was incorrect. That brings my record for the year to 6-4. Just barely above .500. Mind you, this is without point spreads, and cherry-picking the supposedly easiest matchups. In other words, I really, really suck at this. Are you in a suicide pool at work? Stop. You may as well shred your money and make a friendship bracelet out of it. Hitting the number on a goddamn roulette wheel has better odds. You know who won this every year at my old office? The fuckface senior VP who had enough cash to buy 50 percent of the entries every year, then took in a modest profit. Seriously, what a douche.
Off the board now are New Orleans, San Diego, Cleveland, Washington, Chicago, Seattle, Denver, Dallas, Green Bay and New England (Record for the year: 6-4). We once again pick a both a suicide pool team and an actual way of committing suicide. This week's pick: Indianapolis, and jumping off a ten-story building only to be killed by an unrelated shotgun blast coming from the ninth floor window. This is the fabled Ronald Opus suicide, a story that was fabricated by a man named Don Mills, then eventually believed as true by many. The Opus suicide story was one of the inspirations behind Magnolia, a movie made me want to jump off a ten-story building. How's that for irony?
Fucking hated that movie.
Gametime Snack Of The Week
The Snyder's Of Hanover Hard Pretzel. Boy, I sure am hungry. I could really go for something bland! Something that tastes stale! Petrified, even! Something with big salt crystals that can split my bicuspids right in half if I bite down wrong! Mmmmm! Delicious!
Pretzels are the snack food you eat if there's nothing else around. They're the Wednesday night MAC college football game of snack foods. Yeah. They're salty. Great. But other snack foods are just as chock full of deadly sodium, while offering some other flavor as well, like Cool Ranch. Or Sour Cream & Onion. Or just something fucking else. And don't give me those cheddar cheese pretzel nub things as a counterargument. Those things are bullshit. That's just a pretzel trying to be a Pringle. Okay? I see past the ruse. I also resent the fact that pretzel-makers keep trying to trick me into giving pretzels another shot by constantly selling them in new shapes: twists, nubs, rods, sticks, braids, tic-tac-toe boards, Lady Madonna, etc. It's the same goddamn snack, Mr. Snyder of Hanover. The shape does not change its inherent pretzelness. Give it a rest. Man cannot live on texture alone.
The number one reason people eat pretzels is because they are so salty, they make you drink more ("These pretzels are making me thirsty!"). In other words, pretzels are less a food and more a drinking facilitator. They're just like Billy Martin. Now, I'm all in support of that. But I can get the same effect from nuts, or chips, or sesame sticks. And I can get the added benefit of actual flavor. So clean up your act, pretzel. Start figuring out how to taste more like a Cheeto.
(NOTE: This rant does not apply to soft pretzels, especially the Glazin' Raisin pretzel at Auntie Anne's, which is delightful. It's like a Cinnabon. Only it's a pretzel, so it's good for you. Or so I would assume.)
Gametime Cheap Beer Of The Week
Coors Light, the beer that has set beer advertising back about seven decades. This fucking company's shitty ads have littered the American landscape for far too long. Those fucking beer man ads. Those fucking ads for Original Coors with Dan Patrick talking about John Elway while sitting on a porch at some goddamn winter lodge. That one ad with Dr. Dre sitting on an airplane doing...???
That goddamn twins song. Those ads with Pete "Der Fuhrer" Coors walking through the woods like he was a fucking game warden or something. Those ads where everyone at the pool hall busts into an impromptu rendition of "Rocky Mountain High". Those fucking "Tap the Rockies" ads where people are playing beach volleyball while superimposed on a mountain range. Those stupid fucking ads they run now that re-use old press conference clips and make no goddamn sense at all. For years now, I've had sit through game after game featuring this retarded company's misguided attempts to brand itself over and over again.
It's a beer ad. It's not fucking hard. Start with a monkey. Then show some tits. Then make a dick joke. Then cut to product. See? Gold. Yet these guys constantly fuck it up. Coors Light's motto is "The coldest beer in the world!" Do they understand the logic flaw in that selling point? Oooh, it's so cold, we can only measure it in Kelvin! Morons. You know what the coldest beer in the world is? ANY OF THEM. I had a Coors Light once that had been sitting in the car for an hour in late August. It was anything but cold.
So fuck you, Pete Coors. Fuck your advertising, and fuck your cheap, shitty beer. Fuck.
Sunday Afternoon Movie Of The Week For Dolphins Fans
The Apostle. That Robert Duvall was a man of vision. He brains a guy with a baseball bat at a Little League game in this flick, a solid couple years before that type of thing became standard practice among all American parents. I could have done without the kissing scene between Duvall and Miranda Richardson. (It looks like Duvall is trying to eat Richardson's tongue. You can actually see her trying to erase her own memory as the kiss goes on.) But otherwise, this movie kicks ass. Duvall was robbed of an Oscar here. Know who beat him for Best Actor in '97? Jack Nicholson for "As Good As It Gets". That movie sucked. It's real challenge for Jack Nicholson to play Jack Nicholson. Bullshit.
The Apostle is notable for offering a much more sympathetic portrayal of religious folks in the rural South than your standard Hollywood film. That was my only problem with the flick, because religious folks in the rural South are out of their fucking minds.
Gratuitous Simpsons Quote
"Once the government approves of something, it's no longer immoral!"
Halftime Masturbation Kit
• For the guys: "Heroes" star Kristen Bell. Quit toying with Peter Petrelli, you whore!
• For the gals: a shirtless Brad Pitt. Careful, ladies. He'll flake out on you one day too.
Blatantly False, ProFootballTalk-Style, Fred Edelstein-esque Rumor Of The Week
WE HEAR... that Joe Gibbs calls plays for the Redskins first by consulting Al Saunders, then consulting Joe Bugel, then consulting Dan Snyder, then consulting a rosary, then consulting the referee, then consulting his dog Jimbo, then consulting strangers in the crowd after burning a timeout.
Three Questions Sideline Reporters Should Ask But Won't
• "Larry, did you know Drew can shrug upwards of 200 lbs.?"
• "Hey Eli, care for a pretzel?"
• "Coach Belichick, did you enjoy your week off slaughtering children in Sierra Leone?"
Your Motivational Pregame Quote for The Weekend
"I promise you a day of reckoning that you won't live long enough to never forget."
Enjoy the games, everyone.
PROGRAMMING NOTE: Next week's Jamboroo will run on Wednesday on account of Thanksgiving. Change your life accordingly.