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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.

It took one day for hard hits to be declared some kind of horrible fucking epidemic by the media. Our own Craggs used the phrase "Human cockfighting," which reminded me of the money scene in Skin Deep. Kornheiser used the term "blood sport" on his radio show, and speculated on people being turned off from football because the hits are just too violent. Rick Reilly, who our man Gourmet Spud said now clearly write all his columns while taking a shit, bitched, "New England's Brandon Meriweather head-butted Baltimore Ravens tight end Todd Heap in a shot so cheap and disgusting that you wanted to switch over to baseball."

That is such a delightful load of shit. No one in the universe will stop watching football because the hits are too hard. No one. Not a single fucking American will tune out due to this bullshit epidemic of roughhousing. Oh no! They hit each other! I'm done with football FOR GOOD this time! For the sports media, concussions are the new hockey fights. You always hear Wilbon and the like tell you that the NHL desperately needs to get rid of fighting, which is the precise opposite of what someone going to a hockey game would want.

No regular NFL fan actually gives a shit about hits being too hard. NFL players have been subjected to shortened lifespans and debilitating injuries for decades now. It hasn't stopped anyone from watching. Deep in your heart, you don't really care. You just pretend to care so that you'll feel better about yourself. You know who has a problem with really big hits? Two kinds of people. ONE: Media people. TWO: Some old lady who never watches football, who sees the hit at the top of her local newscast and is like, "Oh my! Those young men are hitting each other TOO hard!" Combine those two kinds of people and you're basically talking about an Andy Rooney problem.

If the NFL wants to get rid of concussions, they can just make tackling illegal, which they won't because that would be stupid. Instead, they did what they should have done: Throw heavier fines at a few players so that everyone would shut the fuck up and move on to the next story in the news cycle. They can talk all they want about "leading with your head" (how do you not lead with your head? It's on top of your fucking body) and defenseless receivers. Secretly, they know and we know that concussions are an accepted fact of life in the game, just as torn ACLs are. All the NFL can really do is try and make the equipment safer and occasionally raise fines to get the Peter Kings of the world to stop bitching about a supposed problem that could only be truly fixed by altering the game in such a dramatic way that it no longer resembles itself. And that'll never happen. This is why lip service is so useful from time to time.

So let's get to Week 7 in a hurry, so that everyone can go back to not pretending to give a shit about any of this.

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

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Five Throwgasms

Steelers at Dolphins: Keyshawn Johnson on Big Ben last week: "They will open him with arms." Indeed they will, Keyshawn. They will totally open him with arms.

Also, James Harrison is a drama queen and a pussy.

Eagles at Titans: They interviewed Ryan Howard on the phone during the Eagles game last week. Hey FOX: Eat shit. If I wanted to hear about baseball, I'd watch baseball. Quit pushing your little NLCS on me. I know damn well you're bitter that it's not your turn to air the ALCS and have the Yankees on all week. But that's not my problem. I would like a ban on all phone interviews during any football game in progress. Has anything important ever been said during one of these calls? FUCK AND NO. CORRECTION: Howard was interviewed in person and not on the phone. My anger remains unchanged.

Patriots at Chargers: I would like to know what the endgame is for Tom Brady's hair. It seems like he's letting it grow longer each week. I think he enjoys flipping it back before putting his helmet on. Looks very dramatic. I'm just curious to know what his goal length is. Is his aiming for down to his ass? Is he planning on sculpting it into a certain dramatic shape? Is he growing it longer each week just to spite people? I'd actually enjoy it if the latter were true. If he were just like, "Call me FAG all you like. I am playing this game in two-foot long pigtails come December."

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Four Throwgasms

Vikings at Packers: I never have any useful football insight for you in this column, which is as it should be. But I do know this: The Vikings have been without their center, John Sullivan, for the past few weeks. They can't pass protect for SHIT without him. So if you see them play Green Bay Sunday Night, and Green Bay doesn't Double A gap blitz the living fuck out of them, then Mike McCarthy should be harpooned and eaten.

Onto Favrepenis: I saw on TV today that Deanna Favre wrote a short section in her first book about catching Brett calling another woman and wanting to leave him after it happened. She didn't, of course. I imagine she's known her husband enjoys playing outside the box for a while now. There's some new book out about Mickey Mantle, and Mantle was a similar kind of guy. He partied. He openly banged other women in front of his wife. He elicited a disgusting amount of knobslobbing from the media. He had extremely hairy arms. Seriously, both those guys have enough arm carpet to stock an Empire.

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Three Throwgasms

Bengals at Falcons: I'll tell you one way to prevent concussions in the NFL: Bring back the motherfucking Kelso helmet.

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Look at THAT head koozie. The Eliminator! Forged in outer fucking space by George Lucas himself! Every other NFL player thought the ProCap was gay. But Steve Wallace and Mark Kelso knew better. I bet they're sitting back and having a laugh together now, sharing white wine on a veranda and solving any number of crossword and Sodoku puzzles flawlessly. If you were an NFL player back then and you didn't wear a ProCap, then you can jolly well pay for your own dementia treatments. The solution was there for you. BUT YOU WANTED TO LOOK COOL!

And check out the ProCap's deformed progeny: THE GLADIATOR.

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As you can see, The Gladiator is a soft-hard-soft design, which is also, coincidentally, the design model of every male reproductive system. More important, that helmet is fucking HUGE. I bet it gives GREAT helmet. You could lower your head all day long with that thing. That's what I really want from the NFL. I want equipment innovations that allow for MORE intentional spearing. Tell me that wouldn't rule.

Jaguars at Chiefs: I got new socks the other day. Is it possible to put on new socks and not immediately go sliding across the hardwood floors in the house, as seen in Risky Business? No, it is not. Floor sliding is mandatory at that moment. It's like skimboarding, only INSIDE.

Redskins at Bears: I got a new kitchen knife for my birthday the other week. It's a Santoku knife.

No One Gives A Shit About Cheap Shots

I don't know what those little ovals on the blade do, but they certainly make the knife 23% more badass. I will almost certainly end up severing multiple fingers with this knife, but I swear to you it is worth it. I treated a pineapple like it was my BITCH. I began chopping up random foods with it simply because I enjoyed the way it effortlessly cleaved them apart. And I chopped really fucking fast, just to show off, even though no one was in the room. I want to sleep with this thing under my pillow. I desperately want to kill someone and use the knife to cut off their head and extremities now. I bet it would be awesome for that. Knives kick ass.

Giants at Cowboys: God, it's fun when the Cowboys are fucking terrible. If they don't win again this year, it may be the greatest season ever.

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Two Throwgasms

Rams at Bucs: Wanna see something classy? Jared, America's foremost producer of horrible radio ads for jewelry, has introduced a line of chocolate diamonds. Just in case you ever married a gal who was like, "You know, I love diamonds, but I really wish they were more like cake." They also have strawberry gold jewelry now, if you're married to the kind of person that buys Cherry Chap Stick specifically to eat it. I guarantee you that Kwinsie Pittsnogle is getting chocolate diamond earrings for Christmas this year.

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One Throwgasm

Browns at Saints: I went to a wedding last weekend (KOGOD!), and after dinner they opened a fried miniature donut bar for all guests to partake in. They had powdered donuts, cinnamon sugar donuts, and plain donuts. I was drunk and stoned at the time, and so stumbling upon this felt like finding fucking oil in my backyard. I was ecstatic. I instantly ran and told everyone around. HAVE YOU SEEN THE DONUT BAR? THERE'S A FUCKING DONUT BAR! I became a donut pusher, demanding friends try the donuts. Savor them. Eat many of them. This is always fun at parties, when you become the food pusher. YOU HAVE GOT TO TRY THIS. FUCKING EAT IT. I'll never get tired of doing that. Bill Buford once described the pleasure of feeding someone like this (paraphrasing): "What other time do you get to put something in someone else's body?" So essentially, I am a food rapist.

Earlier that evening, I went out on to the terrace, because I was drunk and they had a fire pit that I could stare at. I got to the fire pit, and there were a bunch of people passing a weed pipe around. They offered it to me. And few things are better than stumbling upon free weed. I totally didn't expect to get stoned tonight. BUT NOW THERE'S WEED! SCORE!

One last wedding note: One of the fun things about any wedding is seeing all the old people sitting and waiting for dinner during the first dances. Those poor old people. They just want so desperately to eat and then go to bed. No one has the heart to tell them the entrees are coming out at 10PM. You can see the fear in their eyes. Your food is NEVER coming, Wilbur. You may die at this very table tonight.

Bills at Ravens: The Eye Control feature that CBS deploys is fucking stupid. Oooh, look! We can rewind the play a couple of times in a row! We call it EYE CONTROL, and it's a totally jazzy new technology!

Panthers at 49ers: I'm not sure I like actually watching my fantasy players play anymore. It's too painful to try and see them go long stretches without scoring, or making a catch. I'd much prefer checking the league site every so often and discovering that Frank Gore magically got 40 more yards and scored while I was away. That NEVER would have happened if I had been actually watching him.

Cardinals at Seahawks: I went to a bar on Sunday to watch the games and it was located directly across from a Cereal Bowl restaurant. If you ever go to that place to plunk down money for a bowl of cereal, you better be stoned out of your goddamn mind. Even if they add sprinkles or fruit or whatever, no sober person should be dumb enough to pay that high a markup on Lucky Charms mixed with CTC.

Raiders at Broncos: I heard Larry Biel interviewed on ESPN radio last week, which was so weird because he used to work there. I kept waiting for him to be like, " I WANT MY JOB BACK. THAT GUY BUCCIGROSS CAN'T HOLD MY FUCKING JOCK." It's so odd to see old SportsCenter anchors cast away to various local jobs around the country (like Brett Haber here in DC). I liked Larry Biel. He reminded me of Peter Tomarken.

Scott Mitchell Lives
At the bar on Sunday was a Lions fan who was wearing a Scott Mitchell jersey. And it was really worn out and old, which suggested to me that he bought it when Mitchell was the QB at the time, and because he sincerely liked Scott Mitchell back then. Christmas Ape asked him if it was a Mitchell jersey, and he proudly said it was. You have to admire a guy who sticks by his Scott Mitchell jersey that whole time. He's earned the hipster irony.

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

"More Human Than Human," by White Zombie. YEAHHHH I AM AN ASTRO CREEP A DUMMURRLURDUURSTAHHDEDDMURRICNAFREAK YEAHHHHH!

Embarrassing Album I Once Owned That Will Not Fire You Up

"Invisible Touch" by Genesis. The above video is for "Land of Confusion," which was my favorite video in the 1980's that didn't feature breasts. The video was made by the people who did the British "Spitting Image" puppet show that ran in the UK for a dozen years. NBC once aired a 45-minute Spitting Image special in the US that I saw when I was a kid. Wikipedia describes it thusly:

Introduced by David Frost, it departed from the sketch-based format in favour of an overall storyline involving the upcoming (at that time) Presidential election. The plot involved a conspiracy to replace Ronald Reagan with a double (actually actor Dustin Hoffman in disguise). This plan was hatched by the Famous Corporation, a cabal of the ultra-rich headed by Johnny Carson's foil Ed McMahon (in the show, Carson was his ineffectual left-hand man) who met in a secret cavern hollowed out behind the facade of Mount Rushmore. Eventually, their plot foiled, the famous corporation activated their escape pod - Abraham Lincoln's nose - and left Earth for another planet, but (in a homage to the beginning of the Star Wars movies) were destroyed during a collision with 'a nonsensical prologue in gigantic lettering'.

I fucking loved every minute of that special. My folks taped it, and I must have watched it on a loop a zillion times. I remember that celebs who displeased the Famous Corporation were sentenced by Ed McMahon to years of obscurity. I always wonder if Trey Parker and Matt Stone watched it for inspiration before making Team America. None of those old Reagan jokes have aged well, of course. But back in the 80's, seeing those puppets on primetime TV was like a little fucking miracle.

Fantasy Player That Deserves To Die A Slow, Painful Death
Marques Colston, who hasn't scored this year but has gotten enough catches each week to keep you from actually benching him. He has to blow up some week, right? You're not telling me that owning him now is pretty much the same as owning Robert Meachem and Devery Henderson, are you? Oh, God. It is! GAHHHHHHH!!!

Who's The Hot Chick In The Red Zone Ads?
Reader Jim:

Can we find out who that girl is in that Red Zone commercial? I'm trying to figure out whether she's legitimately hot or if she just looks better because she's acting like she loves football in the commercial.

She is legitimately hot, and her name is Anna Colwell. Here's a picture.

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No bikini shots on the Google Image Search, alas. You'll just have to settle for her flawless hair and gorgeous, hypnotic eyes. What's that, Anna? You want me to rob a Jared for you and murder your abusive boyfriend? Okie dokie.

Suicide Pick Of The Week
Last week's suggestions of San Diego, Pittsburgh, and the Giants were 2-1, making me 7-5 on the season. Which means it's like I stabbed you five times over. Again, we pick three teams for your suicide pool and something that makes you want to commit suicide as well. This week, the picks are New Orleans, Baltimore, Seattle, and parents of children named Michael or Matthew who demand you not call their kids Mike or Matt. Listen, Miss Priss. If you don't want people calling your kid Mike, don't name him Michael. You are just ASKING to be defied. I swear, my wife told me she met someone who named her kid Matthew and called him Thew. That is a fucking disgrace, and I won't stand for it.

/Drew > Thew

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.

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"This week, I like the Giants getting 3 points on the road against Dallas. Great news! Berlin has experienced a rise in tourism thanks to a museum exhibit on Hitler. I have always maintained that a Hitler-based economic model could be the key to our economic revival. If we were to place images of the Fuhrer in restaurants, and hotels, and in Congress, we'd soon have enough tourism money to pay for health care for every man, woman and child here in America. Except for the brown ones."

2010 Nazi Shark Record: 2-3-1

Great Moments In Poop History
Reader Eric sends in this story I call THE POOP RUNNER:

Got this from a close friend about a week ago. He's a Marine and is in Afghanistan at the moment. This is the only email I've gotten from him since he was deployed this spring. And yes, this is the entire email. Feel free to edit down if you want, but I don't think there's anything in here that would get us the Geraldo treatment for aiding the enemy.

"This morning I got up at 230 am to set off at 3 am to get way down south on a foot path surrounded by cotton fields with 13 afghan police and 10 marines to ambush the Taliban as they moved around early in the morning.

I had my two fire teams set up in the cotton fields waiting to kill these motherfuckers spread out about 200 meters apart. Somewhere in the middle I sat with my gunny, my linguist and my radio operator waiting patiently and quietly. Around 0630 my guts started rolling. Apparently I had some bad chai tea the night prior… So as I sat there pondering the fate of my somewhat clean drawers, the "grumpy" as we call ‘em, began to deny me the control that I have grown to endure.

I adjusted myself in the wadi, knowing that if I stayed in that position I would surely poop my pants. As I moved to my knees I realized that the poo was coming. To my surprise, I let out a long and drawn out squealer that ended with the sound of a "put-put-put". My pants were clean. My linguist embarrassed. The silence of the morning air broken. I stayed still for moments on end. The "grumpy" began to flounder once again. I leaned over to my gunny, who thought that I was moving around in anticipation of the approaching enemy, and stated "Hey gunny… I have to poop." I moved 60 or so meters into the cotton field and dropped trou. Chocolate pudding with peanuts, right in the rain, paper across my ass, and back to my ambush I went. Funny yes. The Taliban never showed. Later brother."

Look at our man. All business. I couldn't be prouder of our military right now.

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:

Norv Turner*
Wade Phillips*
Tom Cable
Eric Mangini
Chan Gailey
John Fox
Mike Singletary
Mike McCarthy
Josh McDaniels
Marvin Lewis
Jack Del Rio

It's time to bring back our friend Mister Asterisk (*), which denotes a possible mid-season firing. I don't actually think Wade will be fired midseason. Only because there's no one good under him. But Norv? Oh Norv, Ron Rivera is ready at a moment's notice to take over for you and your horrible, horrible acne scars.

Gametime Snack Of The Week

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Beef jerky! I bought some beef jerky at the gas station yesterday, and within two minutes my jaw fucking DIED. I am too old now for beef jerky and chewing gum. My jaw gets tired instantly. It feels like I'm trying to chew through an arm. I need a softer jerky, and that doesn't sound sexual in any way, shape or form.

Gametime Cheap Beer Of The Week

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MOLSON XXX! The beer that shows full penetration! Bobby Big Wheel writes in:

Have you seen Molson XXX in stores yet? I'm pretty sure it's fermented moose piss. I'm still making the transition from a pre-party at a friend's house meaning polite conversation and spinach dip and not dirty 30s and beer pong, so I brought some Molson XXX to a friend's apartment once. His girlfriend decided then and there that I would never be invited back.

That girlfriend is a prude. How can you turn down a SUPER premium beer such as this one? With a 7.3% ABV? A Google Image Search also turned up a promotional Molson XXX beer bucket, with a skull on it. I like Molson's approach. They're done fucking around. They are here to get you drunk and get your penis inside something.

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.

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"Baby, my favorite for the NFL's MVP is Tom Brady of the Patriots! Movie star hair! Model wife! An ambiguous sexual persona! That boy has what it takes to make it in this town! Now, let me tell you about a dear old friend of mine… MISTER MICHAEL DOUGLAS! A lion of Hollywood! Talented? YOU BET! Horny? ALWAYS! I recently saw Michael in Solitary Man. Oscar worthy, baby! In that movie, he plays a creepy old man who sleeps with really fucking hot women. In fact, in every Michael Douglas movie, he plays a creepy old man who sleeps with really fucking hot women. And do you know why he's so good at playing those roles? Because he IS a creepy old man who sleeps with really fucking hot women!

"I remember going out with him in Manhattan once and chancing upon a group of young ladies at a nearby hotspot. I believe it was a sweet sixteen party. Champagne ensued. And Douglas busts out his old, 'What are you getting out of the transaction?' chestnut he lavishes on all the young ones. So we take them back to our room. The Pierre. Top floor. You know the drill with Evans! And ol' Douglas takes one of these fine young lasses into the ironing closet and has his way with her. And the next day, it's all he can talk about. ‘Evans!,' he cries. ‘It's a whole new ballgame with these 16-year-old vaginas! They move so fluidly! I felt like I was fucking on air!' And that exact exchange went right into the Solitary Man working screenplay! I'm telling you, no one does dirty and creepy like my throat cancer buddy!"

Sunday Afternoon Movie Of The Week For Bills Fans

Tuff Turf, faithfully submitted by reader Paul. Watch intently as James Spader serenades Kim Richards with "I Walk The Night". Even a young and coked up Robert Downey Jr. is won over.

Gratuitous Simpsons Quote
"Your mother has this crazy idea that gambling is wrong. Even though they say it's okay in the Bible."

Halftime Masturbation Kit
-For the guys: Danielle Harrington (NSFW). Danielle is hoping to pose nude for Playboy one day. Let's all hope she passes the rigorous standardized calculus test that is required of all prospective Playboy models.
-For the gals: Jim from Outsports.com says I have "zero taste in men," which I found oddly insulting. I KNOW HOT GUYS! FOR REALS! Anyway, he's been nice enough send in links to lots of smoking hot beefers, including Finnish pole vaulter Eemeli Salomaki. Sexy Finns!

Enjoy the games, everyone.