Drew Magary's Thursday Afternoon NFL Dick Joke Jamboroo runs every Thursday during the NFL season. Find more of his stuff at his Twitter feed.

Due to matters of convalescence, we go straight to the random crap this week.

The Games
All games in the Jamboroo are evaluated for sheer watchability on a scale of 1 to 5 Throwgasms.




Five Throwgasms

Ravens at Steelers: The bye weeks have started! NOOOOOOOOOOOOO! If they introduce an 18-game schedule but throw in double bye weeks as a sop to the player's union, I will fucking DIE. Bye weeks are horrible. They should have fantasy leagues that credit you with a bye week player's projected points, as if he HAD played. That way, the bye week is like a little bonus in the middle of the season, instead of a horrible trap that ensures your fucking DOOM.




Four Throwgasms

Redskins at Eagles: The McNabb Bowl! So exciting. The only thing more exciting about it is if Donovan McNabb and Michael Vick were a gay couple the tabloids dubbed VickNabb. That would be stellar.

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Were you aware that DeSean Jackson is averaging 24.5 yards per catch? That is fucking INSANE.

Three Throwgasms

Bears at Giants: Whenever there's a close spot of the ball, the ref will call to bring in the chains for a measurement. I have watched football for two or three decades, and in that time I have never seen a ref bring in chains from the close side of the field. Ever. They could be a fucking inch away from the chains on the close sideline. He will inevitably call on the chains from the opposite side of the field, eight miles away. This is a completely unnecessary delay and I'm convinced Dick Ebersol is behind it. Never fails to piss me off. You have perfectly good chains right nearby to measure with, asshole. Use them.

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UPDATE: Readers clarify (because I'm stupid) there are only one set of chains on one side of the field. This is good, but it still doesn't explain how those fucking chains always manage to be a million miles away from the spot. Annoying.

Pats at Dolphins: DANNY WOODHEAD IS A FACKIN' CULT HERO!

Broncos at Titans: More fun notes about having back surgery:

-In the case of most any surgery, you are not allowed to eat or drink anything the morning of the procedure. In my case, I wasn't allowed to eat anything after midnight the night before (or else… GREMLINISM), and only 6 ounces of fluid after midnight before getting cut open. Six ounces of fluid is barely anything. By operation time, I would have willingly drank my own ejaculate. I was so fucking thirsty, I wanted to die.

Fun note for you single ladies: They also won't let you eat or drink anything a day before you get induced for labor, because they don't want you barfing or shitting on the birthing table. That means not only are you in pain while giving birth, but you're also dying of hunger and thirst, and you aren't knocked out to be relieved of such miseries. After my wife had our first kid, she drank six gallons of ginger ale in about three seconds. I am glad I'm not a woman.

-I have not been allowed to shower since Monday. Your self-loathing is directly proportional to the amount of time you have gone without bathing. I feel like a dude who's been dumped by his girlfriend and is still in mourning. No showering. No shaving. Eating nothing but microwave bean burritos. I expect Ron Livingston to walk through the door any second and tell me to get on with my life.

-Before my surgery, I was told to take a shower the night before and the morning of with a special prescription body wash, the same soap surgeons use before cutting you open. This was to prevent a staph infection in my back, which would totally have happened to me if I was a Cleveland Brown.

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The instructions on this body wash read like the Happy Fun Ball warning label. No joke. You aren't supposed to get it on your face or on your genitals, and you have to apply the soap to your body with the shower turned off, so it doesn't spray in your face and fucking blind you or something. So I lathered up a washcloth and turned the shower off. It said to wash with the soap for three minutes. Have you ever stood in a shower with the water off for three minutes? AGONY. I felt like I was dying. I was cold and shivering. I may as well have been living in a Russian prison. So, so cold and lonely. No way I lasted three minutes before turning the water back on. No reasonable human being ever could.

-They didn't tape my surgery. I think they should tape your surgery and then charge you $50 for a souvenir DVD. I'd totally pay for it and then never watch it.




Two Throwgasms

Browns at Bengals: And here I never thought I'd hate a white Browns running back more than I hated Tommy Vardell. And I REALLY hated Tommy Vardell. Goddamn you, Peyton Hillis.

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Lions at Packers: In case you were not aware, Kyle Vanden Bosch wears red contact lenses that help prevent glare. They are terrifying. I would very much like a pair.

Panthers at Saints: Last week, I noticed that Tony Siragusa wears his Super Bowl ring (which is very ugly) on his middle finger. I can't decide which is less classy: wearing an ugly ring on your pinky, thumb, or middle finger. There has to be some kind of Italian white trash hierarchy for this. A middle finger ring looks both tasteless AND retarded. I expect nothing less from the Goose.

49ers at Falcons: The thing I hate about Greg Giraldo dying is that he was extremely funny and, selfishly, I'm annoyed he is no longer around to keep me entertained. That's why I miss Sam Kinison and Mitch Hedberg and Robert Schimmel. They were all really GOOD at making people laugh. Why can't more SHITTY comics die prematurely? How is Ralphie May still walking around at 750 pounds? That's not fair at all. Please God, start killing off less talented comics and musicians. This shit ain't right.

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Colts at Jaguars: I distrust people who email me and the email comes in a totally different font than the emails I usually get. Sometimes, a person will email you and it's all inexplicably in Comic Sans. Or it'll have a background, like scented toilet paper. I do not like this.




One Throwgasm

Texans at Raiders: I am incapable of going to the grocery store at a time when they aren't restocking the shelves. And the store I go to is open 24 hours. I have no fucking idea why they can't restock the shelves at 3AM, when no one is around. I go at peak hours and there is always, without fail, some fucker with a dolly eight miles long blocking half the goddamn aisle. And he's always parked the thing in front of whatever I happen to be looking for. YOU FUCK. YOU ARE COVERING UP THE VICTORIA MARINARA SAUCE AND I DO NOT LIKE IT. And they always give you a look when you try and get past them, like you're the fucker for being in the way. YOU'RE THE FUCKER IN THE WAY GOD DAMMIT.

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Seahawks at Rams: I take my kids to a playground every day, and I have no clue how an American child isn't killed on a playground once every five seconds. The structures can go ten feet in the air, with openings in the panels that a one-year-old can just waltz right out of and pull a Connor Clapton. There's a merry-go-round (not a carousel, just those little things that spin around really fucking fast) that some asshole ten-year-old will whip up to 90 mph while toddlers come running toward it. And every fucking kid's mom is sitting on a fucking bench staring at a Blackberry. They don't even look up. I saw some three-year-old go flying off the merry-go-round and start crying. The dad was 100 yards away playing Ultimate Frisbee. What a fucking ponce. I wanted to shove that Frisbee up his fucking ass when he came running in ten minutes later. I really don't know how kids aren't killed at playgrounds on a more regular basis. It's like a little miracle that any of them survive.

Jets at Bills: I do not care that your car can play an elaborately choreographed drum solo, Lexus. Stick with what you're good at, which is placing your car on a giant gyroscope and rolling a very small ball bearing around the panel seams. Way cooler.

Cardinals at Chargers: The game I watched last week was presided over by Kevin Harlan and Moose Johnston. Every time they cut to the booth, you saw their ties. Kevin's tie dropped about five inches below his belt. Moose's tie ended about five inches above his belt. It was so sad. Both of these men are fully grown, yet have no fucking idea about proper tie length. I wanted to reach into the screen and retie that shit.

Random Note About The Detroit Lions
Gunther Cunningham has terrifying lips.

Pregame Song That Makes Me Want To Run Through A Goddamn Brick Wall

"Dreams," by Van Halen. Like the rest of humanity, I prefer David Lee Roth. But I grew up right during the Hagar Transition, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't wear out my "5150" tape to the point of having to buy another one. Plus, the video features the Blue Angels. LOOK AT THEM FLY! IT'S TOTALLY A METAPHOR FOR HUMAN ACHIEVEMENT! WE CAN DO ANYTHING, DAMMIT! ANYTHING!!!! The only thing cooler would be if the video showed the jets bombing strategic locations around Libya and various international hotspots. I still love this song. The end gets me every time. This is because I'm a HUGE douchebag.

Embarrassing Song I Once Liked That Will Not Fire You Up

"Room To Move," by Animotion. Not to be confused with "Obsession," the Animotion song everyone knows from "American Psycho." This song comes from the Dan Aykroyd/Kim Basinger movie "My Stepmother Is An Alien," which blew. Take it from someone who watched three minutes of it on HBO one afternoon. This is the kind of movie that used to spring up on HBO in the middle of the day. Before digital TV guides, you wouldn't know what movie was playing if you just happened upon HBO when it was starting. You'd have to sit through the opening credits and try and guess before the title came on. If it was a good movie, I could usually spot it pretty quickly. But if I couldn't place the director or the credit fonts, I knew it was probably a horrible movie. "My Stepmother Is An Alien" is that kind of movie.

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Take note of the video setting. Ninety percent of all videos and chase scenes made in the 1980s were filmed in abandoned factories.

Fantasy Player That Deserves To Die A Slow, Painful Death
Reader Adam nominates Knowshon Moreno:

Not sure if you take suggestions for this, but how about Knoshit Moreno. He got hurt on Friday. Before playing the Indianapolis "Gave up 1300 yards on the ground to Houston" Colts. On FRIDAY. Do you know what NFL teams do on Friday? They have a WALK-through. That assmunch missed the game after getting hurt while WALKING. DAMN. Stick your arm in a running garbage disposal, Moreno. You dick.

I have no clue if any of his accusations are true, but he is hateful, and that makes it okay with me. I also like that Laurence Maroney, who BLOWS, has found a way to vulture touchdowns from Moreno. Keep in mind that Denver drafted Moreno 12th overall, and that they go to seemingly great pains to keep him from getting the lion's share of carries. Josh McDaniels is a cock.

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Suicide Pick Of The Week
Last week's pick of Washington was hilariously incorrect, making me 2-1 on the season. Last year, after I picked wrong the first time, I kept making suicide picks anyway. Many of you wrote in to say this was retarded, given that I would have been technically knocked out of any normal suicide pool. This is true. So, from now on, I'll just give you three teams worth considering for your suicide pool each week, and track how those picks do on a week to week basis (NOTE: They will do poorly). And, as always, we'll pick something that makes you want to commit suicide as well. This week, the picks are Tennessee, San Diego, the Jets, and doing a Mat Shot.

If you are unfamiliar with the Mat Shot, here is the gist. At many pubs in the UK, there are little towels sitting on top of the bar to soak up spilled beer, booze, and whatever shit happens to be around and flowing. I stole 900 of these towels when I was abroad, because I'm a good ambassador for our country like that. Anyway, the mat shot is when the bartender wrings out one of those towels into a shot glass and gives it to you. You will boot if you take this shot. I guarantee it.

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.

"This week, I like the Lions getting 14.5 points on the road against Green Bay. Why is the new Twitter so fucking slow? I type in a message like JEWS RUN THE BANKS and it takes five seconds for each goddamn letter to appear on screen. THESE PEOPLE ARE DELAYING MY HATE."

2010 Nazi Shark Record: 1-1-1

Great Moments In Penis Surgery
Reader Matt had his dick operated on. This is his tale:

It started out that I wasn't peeing right...like something was blocking my stream from its full force. After some time, I realized I wasn't going to piss out whatever it was. I wasn't sure if it was a kidney stone or what. It hurt a little bit, but not like I've heard a kidney stone hurts.

I decided to make the dreadful trip to the Oncologist to get this checked out. As embarrassing as it is to have an old male doctor tug on your dick, what follows is surely one of the more embarrassing stories I know that I have seen on Deadspin.

The initial visit: the Doctor comes into the room and starts tugging on my dick and looking inside with his magnifying eyeglasses and a flashlight. Of course, he can't see anything because I have tried this myself many times to no avail. The Doctor says " I need to schedule another office visit where I can put a scope in you penis and take a better look." This, of course, is horrifying to think about, but I need to get this resolved, so I reluctantly schedule a visit for two weeks later.

The second office visit: D Day has arrived. The day someone sticks a periscope in my dick hole. At this point I am not sure what to expect, but I know it won't be good. As I arrive, I am quickly called back to the room by a young babe that couldn't have been older than 23. I was embarrassed because obviously she read what was going to be done to me that day. I figured she would let me in the room and tell me to have seat until the doctor arrived.

But she wasn't the receptionist, but rather, the doctor assistant and instead of leaving, she asks me to take my pants and boxers off and sit in a stirrup like chair because she needs to "prep" me for the doctor.

Next she says that since the procedure would be uncomfortable, she was going to provide some Novocain Jelly, not a novacain shot (luckily?), but jelly. She then proceeds to put on gloves and squeeze the jelly out and starts rubbing my dick with it. This is supposed to (after a few minutes) start to numb the area. I have never tried so hard in my life to not get a boner...I tried thinking of the most non sexual, completely gross things that you can think of. Somehow I managed to not get hard.

Anyways, the Doctor comes in and sticks the periscope in there and this procedure is now being displayed on a video screen for me, the doctor and the assistant to see. It was actually pretty cool looking up inside there. Basically, I had a build up of scar tissue in my urethra from some type of child hood accident...like falling on the middle bar of the bike nuts first.

I later had surgery to remove the scar tissue and had to wear a catheter for a week while it healed. It actually wasn't bad having the catheter in because I could lay around all day and piss and it would just accumulate on a bag...lots too look forward to when we get older. When I removed the catheter it didn't hurt because it just pulled right out, BUT there was a great bonus at the end of all of this.

Not only was I able to pee freely, which felt great, but my hole was stretched out so much from the catheter that I was pissing like a fire hose. I felt like I had the biggest penis in the world for a day.

Is anyone disappointed there were no complications from the surgery? "They butterflied me, Drew. They fucking butterflied me."

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Great Moments In Poop History
Reader Smokey had to take a shit while waiting in line for "The Price Is Right":

I'm sitting in line waiting to be interviewed for The Price Is Right. I woke up at 4am this morning and filled my water bottle with a pouch of Crystal Light Fruit Punch.

Editor's Note: Retail Price: $2.39!

After a few swallows, something felt amiss. We waited in line at the break of dawn, got our tickets, and we're told to come back in 2 hours to start the audience interview process. After eating a hearty breakfast of flapjacks, the rumble begins. I beat feet to the bathroom, release the Kraken, and wipe. That, my friend, is when shit got real. Glancing at the toilet paper reveals a dark, deep, velvety hue of red. It looks like I've had a miscarriage. Absolutely revolting. With any luck I'll win the Showcase Showdown and celebrate by smearing my fruit punch afterbirth all over the losing contestant. Wish me luck!

Let us know how you do, Smokey. Bloody stool is the secret to cracking that show's pricing code!

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Fire This Asshole!
Is there anything more exciting than a coach losing his job? 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:

Tom Cable
Eric Mangini
Chan Gailey
John Fox
Mike Singletary
Tom Coughlin
Jack Del Rio
Josh McDaniels

The Singletary collapse has been especially fun. They can't even fire Jimmy Raye without people ending up confused.

Gametime Snack Of The Week

Sea salt caramels. These things are out of fucking control. I bought sea salt caramel ice cream this summer at the beach. After one bite, I saw Jesus. And you know what Jesus said to me? He said, "Isn't that shit fucking great? Can't believe it took two millennia for us to figure that out, what with the Dead Sea so close by and all. I'm real sorry about that, brutha." Shit is fucking GOOD.

Gametime Cheap Beer Of The Week

MOUNTAIN BREW ICE! Reader Andrew sends in this horrid looking brew from Upstate New York.

This is Mountain Brew Ice Beer, which is sold at the local Stewart's Shops franchise here in New York's capital region. Details on the can indicate it's made by Genesee, and that it's a "very cool brew." It's only a cool $2.99 for a sixer of this stuff. The beer itself is drinkable, but in terms of can design, it's probably one step above a white can that says "BEER" in black letters on it. (Why has no one done that yet?) Lining the bottom of the can are small pictures of different activities you can do while enjoying the beer. They include volleyball, boxing, fishing, golf, baseball, and something vaguely resembling fencing among others. I myself enjoy a nice cold Mountain Brew Ice between rounds of my boxing matches.

Holy shit, that looks awful. As Andrew notes, the Olympic icons on the bottom are brilliantly stupid. This is what Michelob Ultra would be if it existed in 1981. It's gotta be terrible. I MUST HAVE IT.

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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.

"Baby, my favorite for the NFL's MVP is Troy Polamalu of the Steelers! Sad to hear that another gifted comic passed away. Now let me tell you about another gifted dead comic: LENNY BRUCE! Talented? You bet! Funny? As all hell! But Lenny could be a moody bastard, particularly at the end. You already know about his legal woes and how he never shut up about them. And Evans knows this firsthand! Let me set the scene for you. Shutters, Santa Monica. 1966. Lenny and I had just had a wonderful night out on the town with two rising Hollywood starlets. Champagne. Caviar. Smokable sheep innards. YOU KNOW THE DEAL. Well, we hightail it back to my villa for a little nightcap, and the girls decide hey, let's have an ORGY!

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"Now, Evans is no stranger to orgies, believe you me. I've orgied with the best of them: Nicholson, Beatty, Hopper, Spielberg's children. I know my way around a good sex party. So I dive right in and assume Lenny will enjoy himself as well. Well, I'm standing there, dipping my Golden Globes into this girl's mouth, when Lenny taps me on the shoulder. ‘Evans,' he tells me, ‘I need Korshak." SIDNEY KORSHAK. The most powerful lawyer in America! He asks me for free lawyering right during a teabagging! And I tell Lenny, ‘Look Bub, there's a time and a place for everything, baby!' Then he tells me all us Jews are alike and goes storming out of there! You believe that?

"Oh, and I nailed both of the girls. Would you believe me if I told you one of the girls was none other than CANDICE BERGEN?!"

Sunday Afternoon Movie Of The Week For Lions Fans

Black Sheep. Reader Jacob submits this movie from New Zealand about killer sheep. Killer sheep? But where are they coming from, Professor? That I don't know. I just don't know. I really just don't know. I'm afraid I really just don't know. I'm afraid even I really just don't know. I have to tell you I'm afraid even I really just don't know.

/Python'd

Gratuitous Simpsons Quote
" I'm sorry, Mrs. Simpson, but you can't copyright a drink. This all goes back to the Frank Wallbanger case of '78."

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Halftime Masturbation Kit
-For the guys: Michelle McCurry (NSFW). Chick with guitars never fail.
-For the gals: Reader TexasGal submits A bunch of dudes from the Edmonton Oilers. They can high stick you anytime, girlfriend.

Enjoy the games, everyone.