I swear, last night Dick Jauron looked like he was suffering from five different terminal diseases simultaneously. Anyway, time for your Deadspin Open Mailbag Tuesday. Email me here if you want in.
You can also submit your jokes, stories and questions via Twitter. We'll do this puppy every week. Let's muffdive in, people.
a_trout: I'm a Bills fan. Why does God hate me so much?
My friend, God doesn't hate you. He loves you. That's why he's subjected you to horrible Bills loss after horrible Bills loss. It's his subtle way of telling you to leave Buffalo.
By the way, I'm convinced Leodis McKelvin took that ball out of the end zone last night specifically to get the clock down to the two-minute warning and keep from New England from getting a bonus clock stoppage. Smart play if he hadn't, you know, ruined everything.
Jon: So I am reading the Jamboroo today and I get to your line about the Bills-Pats game being a perfect setup for a "41-0 asspillaging"...and I get an itch. Quick backstory: I'm 24 years old and I'm a former gambling addict.
Pretty sure the "former" suffix can't be applied to that term. I'll bet you $1,000 on it.
I was actually up for the last two years until last football season, when I pushed my luck and blew my bankroll on a few games. I tried to get out of this hole by winning it back w/ borrowed money. My losing streak continued and suffice to say, I nearly flunked out of school, dropped out of school, developed manic depression and OCD, and went into a lot of credit card debt.
That sounds… not good.
Anyways, I started thinking about the Bills-Pats game and started looking at the injury reports, preseason performance, etc. And then I looked at my desk and saw the balance transfer offer from Citibank that arrived in the mail.
As I said before, I have a lot of credit card debt to pay off. So I call the balance transfer offer phone number and speak to a charming Indian gentleman. He says I can get up to $12,000 from the transfer offer.
Don't do it.
I think in my mind, "If I get $11,000 and bet it all and win my bet, then I pay Citibank their $11,000 back and I keep $9,900 in winnings to pay off my credit card debt."
GAHHHHHH DON'T DO IT…
So I told Amil to deposit the $11,000 in my bank account and I proceed to re-open my dormant online gambling account and I bet $11,000 on the Patriots (-10.5). If this turns bad and furthers my life into a deeper mess, I fucking blame you Big Daddy Drew.
Holy shit. HOLY SHIT! I emailed Jon this morning to express my condolences. He did not reply. Either he A) has already hanged himself, or B) is currently purchasing the gun that will be used to kill me. Eleven thousand dollars. Holy Christ. Even Nazi Shark is more conservative with his parlays.
In my experience with sports gambling, the hard and fast rule is that any game that looks like a sure thing will only turn out to be a sure thing if you don't wager eleven fucking thousand dollars on it. If you hadn't bet money on last night's game, the Patriots probably would have won 57-0. That's how gambling works. God knows when you've put money on a game. He senses your confidence. That's when he gets ready to FIRE UP THE DEATHBOLTS. Don't listen to me, or Simmons, or Brandon Laing, or any asshole that tries to convince you that you can somehow be smarter than Vegas. You can't. You will lose.
$11,000. Holy Fu Schnickens.
Chaz: Orzo: pasta or rice?
But it's an annoying pasta shape, isn't it? Ever drain orzo in a colander? No more orzo. Fuck.
Speaking of orzo…
Phillas: Will there be more recipes? The chili one was like a red orgasm in a bowl.
Sure thing. Here's Ina Garten's orzo salad. It's fucking delicious, especially right after you've made it. I'd eat feta out of Lenny Dykstra's asshole.
Mark: Was anyone else uncomfortable with the never-ending man-love that Matt Millen continuously heaped on Tate Forcier?
I'm uncomfortable with anything Matt Millen does. But yeah, he got a little too excited about Fox Forcier Five. If he had split out wide for a Wildcat play, Millen would have spontaneously lactated.
Ethan: So, I'm 14, and I'm bored as hell, and will be for the rest of the school year. What is some cool shit to do in 10th Grade?
I don't know about you, but when I was in 10th grade, I masturbated. A lot. Often to the point of bleeding. And this was BEFORE the advent of cyberporn, so God only knows what would have happened to me if I were a tenth grader today. I'd end up just like Robin Williams' kid in "World's Greatest Dad." Otherwise, 10th grade is one giant quest for three things. Here they are, in order of difficulty to obtain:
If you can get your hands on ANY of those three things in 10th grade, you've had a successful run. Getting pussy, drugs, or booze in 10th grade is the greatest feeling any human being can ever have at any point in life. Scoring any of those things once you pass the age of 21 or so doesn't feel half as good as when you get your hands on them early, before you're supposed to have them. And if you can't get them, I suggest turning to vandalism. I know I'm a responsible citizen now, but lemme tell you: there's nothing better than being young and breaking the law, especially when you don't get caught.
One other suggestion: watch "Intervention" on A&E. It's the greatest show ever. It's hypnotic. Last night, they featured a junkie who turned to heroin and coke after finding out he was on Dylan Klebold and Eric Harris' hit list for the Columbine massacre. Holy crap.
Then, during the episode, you find out the dude's mom is hooked on wine and Xanax. So while they plan an intervention for the junkie, they ALSO plan a surprise second intervention for the mom. They finish the first intervention, then the mom goes back inside, and then they totally blindside her. GOTCHA, BITCH. And she's all like, "What? ME? BUT I'M NOT THE ADDICT HERE!" And they're like, "Oh yes you are, honey." Then she gets carted off to rehab in tears. And the most amazing part is, both the mom and the son are addicts because the dad is a heartless prick. It's beyond awesome. I'll never watch any other reality show.
Bobby Big Wheel: The title "Fastest Three Minutes on Television" is the biggest crock of shit I've ever heard. Anything narrated by Berman is fucking interminable. Those couldn't be a longer three minutes if it was just tape of me on the phone with an ex-girlfriend waiting to hear the results of a pregnancy test.
Do she get artificially sped up during those three minutes as well?
I was caught
In the middle of a railroad track (CUTLER!)
I looked 'round,
And I knew there was no turning back (CUTLER!)
My mind raced
And I thought what could I do? (CUTLER!)
And I knew
I'd be no help... no help to you! (CUTLER!)
Beatin' in my heart
The Pack secondary
Tore me apart
Aw wah a wah wah a waaaaaahhhhhhhhh…
Rob: You forgot Special Agent Oso on your worst list. This cartoon is your regular cheesed-out Japanimation that my kids can't peel their eyes off. He is a "Bond-like" Panda that gets relayed special assignments from this creepy "paw-pilot" that he must complete in three special steps. That song rings through my ears half the freakin' morning. Plus my goddamned nanny had the nerve to fill up 40% of my DVR with this shit so the kids can watch it back to back.
That is a horrible show. More and more kids' shows now consist of nothing but dirt cheap computer animation. There's no more Tex Avery. There's no more Chuck Jones. Worst of all, there's no more violence. Oso never gets his fucking head blown off, like Daffy Duck does. He helps people grow flowers and shit. LAME.
Hank Scorpio: What are your thoughts on salary cap fantasy leagues?
I've heard salary cap and auction leagues are "the way to go." And I would do them. But honestly, they sound like convoluted enterprises that take up shitloads of time. If I had eleven rich friends who could all jet out to Vegas on a moment's notice for such shenanigans, I'd happily do it. But I don't. I have no friends, and no spare money. So fuck you if you do. I don't like you.
Ken: I am the manager of a new FFB league where all the members know each other pretty well, but we have a bit of a problem. As of right now 5 of the 10 teams still have the generic Team (Lastname) as their team name. This can't be acceptable can it? I have been trying to come up with a suitable punishment, and as of now I am leaning towards manually assigning offensive and insulting names to these teams. Do you have any suggestions, either for insulting team names or alternative punishments?
I suggest names that insult both them and their families: Benny's Wife Has A Large Twat, My Mom Has Crotch Rot, and such and such.
LTL: You and Simmons both picked the Packers to win the Super Bowl. Every year there is some sleeper team that hardcore fans jock to show how hardcore they are. These fans pick this team not because they believe it will actually win the Super Bowl but because they think its cool. This year that team is the Packers.
I bet you're actually hoping the Packers make the Super Bowl so you can go on and on about how you've had the Packers in the Super Bowl since week one. You will bring it up at any opportunity. Well, that shit is fucking annoying. You should pick the team that you honestly think is going to win the Super Bowl, even if it's the same team as Peter King and Tony Kornheiser.
No bullshit, if your fucking life was on the line, who is going to win the Super Bowl?
You could pick New England to win it every year and it would be the smartest bet because they have the best coach and arguably the best QB. But they haven't won it in five years, and the last two SB winners were teams that many people failed to predict (particularly the Giants). And the Pats didn't even look good last night. You may as well pick a team from out of left field, because the NFL has had tons of surprise champs ever since the Rams won it all in 1999. So I picked Green Bay because they're good AND to jinx the shit out of them. I do NOT hope they win the Super Bowl. I hope they all die in a collapsed roof accident.
But yeah, with a gun to my head or $11,000 on the line, I take New England. Now piss off with you.
ryanreal: How do you feel about laptops while watching football? Socially acceptable if you're by yourself, less with more people around?
If you're by yourself, everything is socially acceptable. There's no social environment to ruin. Bust out the laptop. Take your pants off. Wear hospital stockings and nothing else. Finger your butt. It doesn't matter.
I guess you can have one out while company is over and you're watching the game, but it FEELS pretty toolish, doesn't it? My preference would be to keep the laptop nearby, so that you can get up incessantly to check it and REALLY annoy the shit out of everyone. Or just get a an iPhone or something. That way, you don't microwave your genitals during the course of the game.
MuffRules: Ever been in a league where a rule is you must use a bench spot on a backup D and kicker?
No. That sounds worse than the Armenian Genocide.
Brianmorse: What does a man need 2 do in order to bribe/convince his wife that $400 spent on Sun Ticket & Super Fan are reqd this day & age?
Make $400 more than the total annual cost of your rent, utilities, food, all bills, health care expenses, child care expenses, and car expenses. If that doesn't satisfy her, kick her in the tit.
Personally, I ALWAYS use the example of worse husbands I know to get what I want. Unlike many husbands, I get up at night to help feed the baby. I don't play golf. I don't grab other women's asses. I'm way better than Chad, dear. He's a fuckhead. Now gimme my football. It's kinda sorta my job now!
matthewtimmons You like heavy metal. I like heavy metal. Why doesn't anyone else anymore? Pussies.
They're too busy making orzo salad. It's a crime.
I think nu metal helped kill off regular metal. Once Korn came around, the market got flooded with dipshit nu metal bands. Traditional thrash got thrown out with the bathwater. Fucking Korn. If I see Jonathan Davis, I'm breaking that alien mic stand over his head and then filling his asshole with joint compound.
Dan C.: if you're talking metal money shot, you have to be talking about minute 3:10 of Pelican – Drought. If you can listen to that with headphones on. Three times in a row. Without turning the volume up each time. You are inhuman.
Is the Deadcast cancelled?
Someone listens to the Deadcast? No, it'll be back. Things have just been a bit hectic lately.
Thomas F.: Doesn't the proliferation and occasional success of the stupid "Wildcat" offense (and it's so fucking stupid that Gary Kubiak even tried to run it and that guy is high-functioning, but unexecutably, retarded) show that someone, preferably with a shitty team, a young coach, and Michael Vick in 2010 (I'm looking at you Tampa Bay) need to try to run a legit spread offense in the NFL? Could it really be any worse than what they already do?
Urban Meyer was blabbing on about this in the Times the other day, accusing NFL teams of not having the sack to do it. But NFL teams already have done it. The Oilers and the Lions both ran the run-and-shoot ages ago, and Ron Erhardt ran a spread formation with Pittsburgh during Cowher's early days. The Pats have gone four and five wide with Tom Brady on numerous occasions. It's not like it would be revolutionary to have a full-on college spread offense in the NFL. All I know is that it would most assuredly fail if you ever tried it with Michael Vick. I KNOW SPORTS AND THAT IS MY INSIGHT.
Hey, let's hear from Nate. He's a pissed off Bills fan.
Nate: It couldn't have been the bloodbath we were all expecting. It just couldn't have been! No, that would have been far too easy. I would have flicked the game off by halftime, shrugged the same apathetic shrug I've adopted for the last five or so years, maybe gotten a little work done, maybe smoked a bowl and played video games, all the while secure in knowing that the shell of bitter cynicism I've spent the last two decades building around myself is justified.
But no! Instead of giving me that kind of peace, this season opener had to be a perfect microcosm of 20 years' worth of Bills fandom: expectations so low they barely exist, slowly brought to life by a performance strong enough to push the scarring, bitter memories aside; surprisingly competent play eliciting that wonderful childish rush of "ohmigod ohmigod ohmigod this might happen;" the momentary twinge of guilt for not believing all the while washed away by the next completed pass or forced punt; followed by the soul-crushing hollow when it's all taken away, reminding you of how fair life isn't, sending you scurrying back under your shell, muttering about another 7-9 season (if you're lucky).
Leodis McKelvin is JP Losman's "athleticism," Doug Flutie's futility, Drew Bledsoe's immobility, Thurman Thomas's lost helmet, Andre Reed's temper tantrum, and Scott Norwood's bad aim.
I'm sure it's too late for the mailbag tomorrow, so I'm not even going to bother asking a question. All that I ask is for you to write funny things tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that, and help me, yet again, to remember why the fuck I spent all summer waiting for this.
SERIOUSLY, OF ALL THE FUCKING THINGS, SPECIAL TEAMS? THE BASTARD RED-HEADED STEPCHILD OF OFFENSE AND DEFENSE, THE ONE FUCKING THING WE'RE USUALLY NOT FUCKING TERRIBLE AT, THAT GIVES ANNOUNCERS SOMETHING TO TALK ABOUT DURING THOSE AWKWARD MOMENTS WHEN THEY REALIZE THEY HAVEN'T SAID ANYTHING NICE ABOUT THE BILLS FOR AN HOUR? WE HAD TO FUCK THAT UP TOO? LEODIS MCKELVIN YOU EAT A BIG BAG OF DICKS. YOU EAT A BIG THROBBING FUCKING BAG OF DICKS AND YOU CHOKE AND YOU DIE. FUCK.
Perfect. Just perfect. This mailbag was a good idea.
Jauron photo courtesy of Confessional Poet.
UPDATE: Jon wrote in: "I am just getting out of shock over what happened. I could completely blame you for this, and some might say that would be irrational...but yeah, I'm blaming you. I hope your vikings choke on Charles Haley sized cock in the playoffs, and I'm probably going to Brazil soon to escape this bankruptcy bullshit that is going to happen. Tell them to try and extradite me then."