The World Series Can Eat A Bag Of D—ks. Jamboroo, Week 8. Drew Magary's Thursday Afternoon NFL Dick Joke Jamboroo runs, well, every Thursday afternoon during the NFL season. Drew's new book, "Men With Balls," featuring 100% new material, hits stores on Monday but is available online right now here. You can email Drew here. Read him during the week at KSK. There's no Sunday Night Football game this week. And do you know why? It's so you can watch baseball. That's right. The higher-ups at NBC and the NFL decided that you needed a night off from football, "out of respect" for the World Series. I've never understood why networks do this. For one thing, it's arbitrary. There was a Sunday night game on last week during Game 7 of the Sox-Rays series. Why not reschedule that game too if baseball is so goddamn important? Last year, the Rockies and Broncos would have played in Denver on the same Monday night had the Rockies forced a Game 5 with Boston in the World Series. So that Monday night game would have gone on as scheduled, but the Sunday night game gets tabled in deference? Why one and not the other? It makes no sense. Even if it's to placate FOX, it still makes no sense.Furthermore, it's unnecessary. We have DVR's now. You can watch both games if you like. Shit, in today's age, most people would probably prefer to watch both events simultaneously. No one watches one sporting event back to front anymore. You need other shit to check out if the game bogs down. You need options to flip over to: to another game, to news, to porn, to Dog Whisperer, or whatever. Like I can stay on one channel for three hours straight. I'd have a brain hemorrhage if I tried to do that. But the larger point here is this: Who gives a shit if the World Series is on? Seriously, big fucking deal. No offense to the fair editor of this site, whose team is vying for a World Series title, or to baseball fans in general. But one of the reasons I watch football is specifically so I don't have to watch fucking baseball. I reject in total the idea that the sport of football has to be nice or respectful to the sport of baseball. Baseball can go eat a fucking dick, for all I care. Oooh, look everyone! We won the pennant! HOORAY, A TRIANGULAR FLAG IS NOW OURS! AND WE ONLY HAD TO PLAY 5,687 MEANINGLESS GAMES TO GET IT! Good for you. Now go die. This is an open challenge to Roger Goddell and the broadcast networks. STOP CODDLING BASEBALL. We already have boring windbags like Seth Mnookin and George Will around to slob that sport's bat knob and make it feel super neat about itself. FOOTBALL IS NOT RESPECTFUL. IT IS NOT DEFERENTIAL. It's a shit-stomping behemoth that destroys anything that gets in its way. It's time for The Ginger Hammer to put a game on opposite the World Series and give it the brutal ratings flaying it rightfully deserves. Step on that sport's throat and don't let up until you feel its windpipe collapse. Then maybe we'd be spared in the future from Tim McCarver's idiotic musings ("When you're a batter, the first thing you look for is a good pitch to hit."), or 50,000-word articles about what the Red Sox mean to Boston on an existential level. God, baseball can be fucking annoying. If poor little baseball can't stand on its own, if it needs football to move out of the way in order to flourish, then it doesn't deserve to thrive. Sorry, Leitch. I don't want football to respect baseball. I want it to spit in baseball's face and wipe its cleats on baseball's back. Fuck the World Series, fuck baseball, and fuck all that old-timey baseball bullshit. Gimme my football back. The Games All games in the Jamboroo are evaluated for sheer watchability on a scale of 1 to 5 Throwgasms.

The World Series Can Eat A Bag Of D—ks. Jamboroo, Week 8.

Five Throwgasms Giants at Steelers: Oh, and one more thing. I'm getting really fucking sick of Cleatus, the fuckheaded FOX robot, hitting fungo balls during game leading back in from the commercials. Hey FOX, I fucking get it. You broadcast the World Series. You only mentioned it SEVEN MILLION FUCKING TIMES ALREADY. I don't need your gay little robot, who serves no purpose to begin with, hitting pop flies during the break as some kind of blatantly subliminal baseball promo. "Oh loogit! The robot's hitting balls. That reminds me, I better watch the World Series tonight! On FOX!" I swear to God I hope that robot develops the urge to become a real boy, only to end up at the bottom of the ocean for centuries, staring at a frozen picture of his human mom. Colts at Titans: Ready to bury the Colts at 3-4, are you? Ah, but that's just what they want you to believe. No team is better at getting you to think they're finally gonna shit the bed, only to come up with some incredibly annoying way of pulling it out of their collective ass. They've got you right where they want you, America. Chargers at Saints: From swinging London! The big question surrounding the Chargers is: Will Shawne Merriman join the team in Europe? I think he'd enjoy being in England. The girls there are much more polite about being raped, you know.

The World Series Can Eat A Bag Of D—ks. Jamboroo, Week 8.

Four Throwgasms Cardinals at Panthers

The World Series Can Eat A Bag Of D—ks. Jamboroo, Week 8.

Three Throwgasms Bills at Dolphins: I was watching the Fins play last week and lamenting the complete disappearance of the neckroll from the league's linebacking crews. Most linebackers today use the newfangled cowboy collar to prevent from whiplash. But I remember when ‘backers like Carl Banks would tie a neckroll the size of a baguette around their shoulder pads. Looked like a rolled-up gym mat surrounding his head. And then you had former Fins linebacker Brian Cox, who had what appeared to be a barcalounger on the back of his shoulder pads. I miss all the unique contraptions NFL linebackers used to prevent getting their spines crushed. Bucs at Cowboys Falcons at Eagles

The World Series Can Eat A Bag Of D—ks. Jamboroo, Week 8.

Two Throwgasms Redskins at Lions Rams at Patriots Browns at Jaguars

The World Series Can Eat A Bag Of D—ks. Jamboroo, Week 8.

One Throwgasm Chiefs at Jets: If Jay Glazer's report about Brett Favre spilling secrets to the Lions is to be believed (and there's no reason to believe Favre's lame account over Glazer's, since Favre is a proven liar), then I don't ever want to hear another fucking person in the media say one goddamn word about how awesome of a guy Brett Favre is ever again. Anyone who does should be fired on the fucking spot. How is Favre not being fucking pilloried right now? What kind of little fucking BITCH rats out his old team like that? What is this asshole, sixteen years old? Brett Favre is a fucking dingleberry. Literally. He is a small, wadded ball of toilet paper and fecal residue implanted in the sweaty asscrack of another human being. Fuck him. He deserves to be scorned, shunned, and intentionally injured. Fuck you, Brett Favre. You vindictive little shit. I hope your Hall of Fame bust is a goddamn rat's head. DIE. Raiders at Ravens Bengals at Texans Seahawks at 49ers Pregame Song That Makes Me Want To Run Through A Goddamn Brick Wall

"Dragula," by Rob Zombie. You know, you gotta be a really cool fucker to be able to pull off the whole goth horror movie buff aesthetic. Yes, Rob Zombie is a badass. But for every Rob Zombie out there, there are about 100,000 assholes trying to be just like Rob Zombie and looking like complete tools in the process. Like Marilyn Manson. God, I fucking hate Marilyn Manson. I'd piss in that guy's lunch if I could. BONUS Slayer Song Of The Week! "Angel of Death," by Slayer. I was a huge Metallica fan when I was a kid. You could be a Metallica fan back in middle school and still be perceived as being fairly normal. But Slayer was a whole other story. The kids who liked Slayer were kids you generally stayed the fuck away from. Lot of wispy mustaches in that bunch. I remember at least two kids back then who used a box cutter to carve the Slayer logo into their arms. I'd love to see those guys now and see if they're still pleased with their handiwork. There's no way that doesn't come back to bite you in the ass. Imagine 20 years after drunkenly carving SLAYER into your arm and trying to hook up with a girl. Girl: What's that on your arm? You: Oh, that? That's a pentagram and the Slayer logo. "Destroying without mercy/To benefit the Aryan race!" WOO HOO! Now let's make out, baby. Pretty sure that wouldn't go over so well. Embarassing Mixtape Track I Once Owned That Will Not Fire You Up "Save the Best for Last," by Vanessa Williams. Sometimes the snow comes down in June. Sometimes the sun goes round the moon! Wait a second. None of those things ever happen. THIS SONG MAKES NO SENSE, DAMMIT. By the way, I'm not sure there was a hotter woman back in the early 90's than Vanessa Williams. Seriously, go watch that video and tell me those eyes couldn't order you to kill on demand. Fantasy Player That Deserves To Die A Slow, Painful Death Chris Johnson. I think that's the second time this year I've gotten reamed because I played against Johnson. STOP BEING SUCH A PRODIGIOUS YOUNG TALENT, YOU CUM-BASTING ASSBANGER. Five Potential Key Injuries -Carson Palmer (elbow) -Terrell Owens (Puerto Rican Pouting Sickness) -Larry Johnson (brain droop) -Brett Favre (fuckface) -Brady Quinn (Rectal bubbling) Suicide Pick Of The Week Last week's suicide pick of the Steelers was correct, which makes me 5-2 for the year. Off the board now are the Jets, the Giants, Green Bay, Pittsburgh, San Diego, Buffalo, and Detroit. We again choose both a team for your suicide pool and an actual way of committing suicide. This week's pick? Jacksonville, and stepping into an open manhole. Down the hatch you go! Nazi Shark's Vegas Lock Of The Week Lots of sports sites, to demonstrate the arbitrary nature of gambling, like to have animals like monkeys pick games to see if they can outwit their human counterparts. There's no reason we at Deadspin can't also get in on the fun. So we've asked National Socialist German Workers' Party member Rolf, who also happens to be a shark, to pick one game a week. Take it away, Nazi shark. The World Series Can Eat A Bag Of D—ks. Jamboroo, Week 8. "This week, I like Carolina giving 4 1/2 points at home against the Cardinals in an early game. Did you know shark skeletons are made of cartilage? It's true. Know what Jew skeletons are made of? Satan's hardened ejaculate." 2008 Nazi Shark Record: 1-4 Fire This Asshole! Is there anything more exciting than a coach losing his job? Mike Nolan makes it the third coach fired mid-season this year. This is shaping up to be a record season for mid-season terminations. Save some of that firing for the boring offseason, you impetuous owners! I need shit to do. All year long, we'll keep track of which coaches will almost certainly get fired at year's end or sooner. And now, your updated chopping block: Jim Haslett Tom Cable Mike Singletary Marvin Lewis Rod Marinelli Herm Edwards Brad Childress Norv Turner Wade Phillips Along with Norv, ol' Wade makes his long-overdue debut on the chopping block. LOOK OUT, TUBBY! THE DOUBLE-J'S GONNA GIT'CHA! Gametime Snack Of The Week The World Series Can Eat A Bag Of D—ks. Jamboroo, Week 8. Tootsie Pops! When I was a kid, there was a long-standing rumor that if your Tootsie Pop wrapper had an Indian with a star on it, you could turn it in for another free Tootsie Pop. Being a very husky child, this excited me. I ate through a bag of these things and found a whole shitload of them with Indian/star wrappers. I felt Charlie opening the Wonka Bar with Golden Ticket. Or, more accurately, I felt like Augustus Gloop opening the Wonka Bar with Golden Ticket. So I gathered all the "winning" wrappers up and took them to the store. Me: I'd like my free Tootsie Pops, please. Clerk: What do you mean? You want a Tootsie Pop, you gotta pay for it. Me: But these wrappers have the Indian with a star on them. Clerk: So? Me: So that means you get one free. Clerk: No, it doesn't. It just means you got a wrapper that had an Indian with a star on it. Sorry kid. Me: (on the verge of big fat tears) Are you sure? Clerk: Yeah. Me: Can I have one free anyway? Clerk: No. Joke's on that guy. I stole all his porn. One-Sentence Excerpt From Men With Balls "Being a pro athlete is hard, especially when you love cock as much as I do." Gametime Beer Of The Week The World Series Can Eat A Bag Of D—ks. Jamboroo, Week 8. Bud Light. Bud Light makes its return to the Jamboroo. Why? Because I can't get away from their stupid fucking ads all game long. I've seen a lot of idiotic beer campaign strategies in my day, the most egregious of which was the Coors Light "coldest beer in the world" campaign from last year. But this new Bud Light strategy has it topped for overall, mind-boggling retardery. Yes, it's the DRINKABILITY campaign. In a stunning revelation, it turns out what makes Bud Light so unique is the fact that you can drink it. My God! What a discovery! I've never had a beer I could actually drink before. Usually I pick up a beer and say, "God dammit! I can't drink this beer. IT'S MADE OF PURE STEEL!" And then I realize I'm trying to drink an All-Clad skillet. You know which beers are really drinkable, Bud Light people? FUCKING ALL OF THEM. All beer comes in liquid form. It's true! Thus, you can "pour" any beer down your throat, thereby "drinking" it. Amazing. That's science for you. But it gets even fucking stupider. Every ad in this campaign involves some asshole spokesman walking onto the screen and freezing the action, to give you a thirty second dissertation on just how easily one is able to ingest this shitty, awful beer. I especially like that, for one of the spokespeople, they hired that squirrel-cheeked chick in the #22 jersey who looks exactly like every backup lay you've ever had. She's kinda cute, but not really hot. But she appears to be friendly, and she likes drinking, so you always know you can hit that shit later in the night if need be. But I usually get that one jackass who walks up to a gently running garden hose and pipes up, "Wouldn't you rather drink out of this," then gestures to a gushing garden hose, "then this?" Well no shit, asshole. Yeah, I'd rather not get the tap water bukkake. BUT WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT HAVE TO DO WITH BEER, SHITHEAD? NO ONE SERVES BEER OUT OF FUCKING FIRE HOSE. That has nothing to do with what kind of beer you're drinking. He's only talking about how you drink it. Which means Bud Light could be any fucking beer. And you know what? That's exactly what fucking Bud Light is. "Bud Light: It's Any Fucking Beer." Jesus. I've taken the liberty of providing the rest of America's brewmasters with brand new campaign strategies modeled after Bud Light's late-term abortion of a campaign. Are you ready to have your minds blown? "Miller Lite: The Beer With Foam!" "Heineken: It Comes In Bottles!" "Busch: It's Got Alcohol In It!" "Schlitz: The Beer With Very Small Bubbles In It!" "Sam Adams: You Can Drink It Out Of A Glass!" "Natural Light: It Makes You Urinate!" "Yuengling: The Beer You Drink If You Want To Get In A Fight And Piss The Bed!" Retards. Random FKS-Style Tidbit You know, I go a lot of places that have kids these days. That's what happens when you have a kid. They want to go where other kids are, so you follow them around like a little maitre'd. And I'm seeing a lot of kids in strollers these days. I don't mean babies. I mean full-grown KIDS. I swear I see kids who are, like, six years old being pushed around in them. That is fucked. If you've got a kid who is above the age of two, and you're still carting them around in a stroller, you have fucking failed. It's not a stroller at that point. It's a goddamn rickshaw. Why don't you give your moron kid a fucking feeding tube while you're at it, sweetie? That way, he can spend his life reenacting the final hour of WALL*E. Get your sloth kid out of the fucking stroller. Robert Evans' MVP Watch! Time to start thinking about who the leaders are for the NFL's MVP award. So every week, legendary Hollywood producer Robert Evans will join us to give us his assessment. Take it away, Mr. Evans. The World Series Can Eat A Bag Of D—ks. Jamboroo, Week 8. "Baby, there's nothing like a good tennis match. I play every week with Dusty Hoffman at my Beverly Hills bungalow. It helps keep my skin tawny and golden. He's a gamer, that Hoffman. Skilled with a racket? You bet! A match for Evans? Not a chance. But Dusty's always a good sport. Especially in our ‘tennis threesomes' after each match. We bring in a lovely young lass and then go at her from both ends. It's Canadian Doubles, if you will. And ol' Dusty and I like take turns 'volleying' the girl back and forth. Game. Set. Orgasm! "Sexy? You know it! A great workout? I'm still here, ain't I? "Your front-runner for the NFL's MVP thus far is Clinton Portis of Redskins. I like all the funny costumes that young man wears. He reminds me of Peter Sellers. Only he's black. And he's not a total prick." Sunday Afternoon Movie Of The Week For Bengals Fans Tremors. Rednecks getting eaten by giant earthworms? Well prairie shit. IT DON'T GET NO BETTER'N THAT! Or does it? Folks, I present you the majesty that is ActionFan's movie reviews. Ever wonder what it would be like if Kige Ramsey reviewed movies? Of course you have. Well, wonder no longer. Gratuitous Simpsons Quote "Well, that's odd... I've just robbed a man of his livelihood, and yet I feel strangely empty. Tell you what, Smithers: have him beaten to a pulp." Halftime Masturbation Kit -For the guys: The biggest Marisa Miller gallery I could find. (semi-NSFW) Marisa has a husband. That's gotta be a pretty daunting role to fill. Three billion other men on Earth would happily gut you like a pig to nail your wife. I gotta think being married to Marisa Miller feels a bit like running out of a bank after you just held it up. Sure, you're elated. But the fucking walls could close in on you at any second, man. God, the pressure. I hope for that guy's sake he's got some kind of special gift that keeps her locked down. Maybe Dom Perignon comes out of his dick. That might do the trick. -For the gals: Pro surfer Kelly Slater. Nazi Shark and 10 out of 10 ladies agree: Kelly is delicious. Your Motivational Pregame Quote For The Weekend "I'll hit you so hard, I'll kill your whole family." -Billy Howard Enjoy the games, everyone.