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, is available right now in stores and online here, and makes a lovely Christmas gift for the chronic masturbator in your life. You can email Drew here. Read him during the week at KSK. No time for tiddlywinks, people. We've got leather bikinis and other shit to discuss. Let's dive right in to this week's slate of matchups.The Games All games in the Jamboroo are evaluated for sheer watchability on a scale of 1 to 5 Throwgasms.

Five Throwgasms Giants at Cardinals: Anquan Boldin has been tearing it up for the past few weeks while sporting eight metal plates in his face and wiring in his jaw. There's only one way for Giants corner Aaron Ross to stop Boldin, and I know what it is.

Let's see you try and catch balls NOW, tough guy. Jets at Titans: Here are the last two paragraphs of this week's Rick Reilly column on Kerry Collins:

If you look at Collins' face this week, you'll see a big cut on his nose. He was deer hunting, saw a six-pointer loping by, didn't have time to get a good rifle rest on his shoulder, fired anyway and the recoil nailed him. But he got the deer. Figures. He never did like to pass the buck.

Now that's what I call PUN-cuation! Holy Jesus. For real, the man is Roger Dudek made incarnate. Mind you, this asshole makes millions to come up with shit like that. Do me favor, will you? Just stab me in the face. Do it quickly, and don't tell me you're going to do it.

Four Throwgasms Patriots at Dolphins

Three Throwgasms Eagles at Ravens: The amazing thing about Donovan McNabb's ignorance regarding ties isn't that he didn't know about them. It's that he was genuinely ANNOYED that that was the rule. Watch that video again. The guy is fucking seething. He's got that look that says, "I'm not gonna say anything that'll get me in trouble, but you do realize what an outrage this is, yes?" It's as if the existence of ties were the same to him as the existence of the Tuck Rule. Not only that, he fully expected everyone else in that room to be as surprised and angry as he was about it. Like, "Can you guys fucking believe this shit?" I'll never get over that. Panthers at Falcons: I watched Berman do the highlights last week. His nickname for Michael Turner? "Michael Turner Overdrive". He even tossed in a few bars of "Takin' Care Of Business" to drive the point home. First off, that isn't just a dated joke. It's fucking carbon dated. He must have unearthed that joke after burrowing through several layers of sedimentary rock in the Grand Canyon. Second of all, I don't think any person on Earth ever needs to hear that Bachman-Turner Overdrive song ever again. There are certain songs that exist now strictly for use in movies and ads, or as filler on classic rock radio, and are never listened to for pleasure by any living being on Earth. Here are a couple more of them: -"Spirit In The Sky" -"For What It's Worth" -"Smoke On the Water" -"Love Train" -"Turn, Turn, Turn" -"Reelin' In the Years" -"Aqualung" (non-jazz flute version) Anything on Freedom Rock, basically. I think the entire classic rock catalog of the 60's and 70's should just be retired. Will anyone out there miss "A Horse With No Name" if we toss it into a fucking black hole? I say no. Vikings at Jaguars: I'd like to pay a quick tribute to the in-game interstitial shot. You know: the three-second shot of the home team's city as the station comes back from a commercial break. There's something so pastoral, so very soothing, so calming about them. Nothing delights me more during a brutal Vikings loss than to see a quick glance at a giant cherry-on-a-spoon sculpture. It reminds me that there are things going on outside the stadium, things far more pleasant than an actual Vikings game itself. Colts at Chargers Packers at Saints

Two Throwgasms Bengals at Steelers: In the wake of being accosted by a man with a gun, Big Ben apparently now employs a full-time bodyguard. I'd want one too if I played behind that o-line. HEY-O!!!!! Raiders at Broncos: I watched some of the Raiders game last week. To give you an idea of just how fucked this team is, consider the following play. Darren McFadden takes a pitch to the right and is looking to throw a halfback option pass. The only problem is that there isn't a single Raider receiver on his side of the field. Not one. They all went in the complete opposite direction. So not only does this team run plays incorrectly, but they run them in the most incorrect manner possible. One other note: Last week, the Broncos started rookie Spencer Larsen at both fullback and middle linebacker. When I first heard about that, I was all like, "Badass. FUCKING OLD TIME IRONMAN FOOTBALL! YEEEARRGH!!!" Turns out Larsen only played three snaps at fullback. Pfft. What a pussy. Texans at Browns

One Throwgasm 49ers at Cowboys: Some good news for Wade Phillips when he's coaching in the CFL twelve months from now. Bucs at Lions Bills at Chiefs Bears at Rams Redskins at Seahawks Pregame Song That Makes Me Want To Run Through A Goddamn Brick Wall

"Stink Fist," by Tool. "Relax, turn around and take my hand." Yeah, he isn't talking about using your HAND to take his hand. Among all bands, only Tool knows how to pen a song about anal fisting that really makes you think. I'll always think of "Stink Fist" fondly because of this story. Back when I lived in New York, my wife and I were invited to a birthday party for one of her friends. This was one of those typical New York birthday parties that isn't actually a party, but rather a bunch of people congregating at a bar and still having to pay for their own drinks. I fucking hate parties like that. This lounge (named Shine, I dunno if it still exists) was way downtown. Anyway, the wife and I wander into the place, meet and greet a few folks, and sit down to have a drink. It was looking to be an altogether normal, unremarkable night. When suddenly, out of the fucking blue, the lights go down and "Stink Fist" starts playing at an ungodly volume level. My wife clutched her ears. There was a small stage at the front of the bar. When the song started to blast, a smoking hot brunette chick came charging out onto the stage and into the spotlight. She was wearing only a leather thong bikini. She started go-go dancing around for a bit, like a stripper would. Only she didn't get naked. But that didn't matter in the least. I preferred her in the leather bikini anyway. Then, she took out two metal torches, lit them, and spent the rest of the song eating fire. Mind you, I planned none of this. This incredibly fucking awesome spectacle unfolded before me without any advance warning of any sort. I went out for drinks. I got a fire-eating, leather-clad stripper dancing to a song about assfisting. HOLY SHIT. I was in awe. Not that I could tell my lady this. She thought it was the single weirdest fucking thing she'd ever seen. Needless to say, I've yet to convince her to eat fire at home. I demand that every bar in the world have fire-eating leather bikini strippers ready at a moment's notice. They're really quite something. I can't watch any Tool video for longer than two minutes without starting to have day terrors. Why must they always insist on showing me meat? What's that dusty guy keeping in that jar? You know what? Forget I asked. I really don't want to know. Maynard James Keenan, you are one sick fuck. Elbow deep inside the borderline. Show me that you love me and that we belong together. Shoulder deep within the borderline. Relax, turn around and take my hand. Don't do it, farm animals! He won't respect you in the morning! Embarassing Mixtape Track I Once Owned That Will Not Fire You Up

"I'll Remember," by Madonna. I'd like to note that this video is over 14 years old, and Madonna looked absolutely terrifying even back then. For real, she looks like she'd bite your dick clean off. Which is probably what A-Rod is hoping for. This song was the theme song from With Honors, a movie I didn't need to see to know how badly it sucked. It's the one where Joe Pesci plays the rare Magical Homeless Dago to a bunch of whiny Harvard brats. Never trust any Joe Pesci movie where he isn't violently stabbing people with whatever stabbing implement happens to be close by. A knife. A pen. Another man's rib. Joe Pesci is the MacGyver of stabbing implements. I really don't need to see him be a kindly mentor. The night before I graduated dipshit prep school, I went to dinner with my folks at some nice restaurant. I didn't really want to be there. There was some party going on that night. A girl I liked was going to be there. I spent the entire dinner thinking about her, thinking about the moment I would finally get to leave so I could go lay eyes on her, maybe even talk to her, before I graduated and never had the chance to again. After a while, my folks said to me, "You look like you'd rather be somewhere else. Go on. Have a good time." I fucking SPRINTED out of the restaurant towards the party, as fast as a big fatass can sprint, which is not terribly fast. When I got to the party, the girl was gone. She'd headed out. I missed her. This song was the song that was playing at the time. And to this day, hearing it brings me back to sprinting into that party, a feeling I find strangely enjoyable now for some odd reason. Perhaps it was the excitement at the possibility of seeing her. Or perhaps it was relief at the fact that I didn't have to sprint any farther. Fantasy Player That Deserves To Die A Slow, Painful Death Wes Welker. You white asshole. You catch four billion balls a game. Would it kill you to have one of those catches be in the goddamn end zone? Jesus. In fact, I'm had just about enough with the entire receiver crop this year. With the exception of Anquan Boldin and a few others, you people make me want to dunk my head in a bucket of chicken blood. You know who's tied for third in scoring among all receivers right now? Kevin Walter. WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK?! Stop planning your end zone ballet dances and SHOW SOME FUCKING CONSISTENCY, YOU COCKLICKING SHAFTWORKERS. Five Potential Key Injuries -Daunte Culpepper (T-bone steak caught in throat) -Marc Bulger (buried alive) -Joey Porter (douchophrenia) -Ryan Fitzpatrick (double-jointed erection) -Ronnie Brown (webbed buttocks) Suicide Pick Of The Week Last week's suicide pick of the Panthers was correct, which makes me 10-3 for the year. Off the board now are the Jets, the Giants, Carolina, Arizona, Chicago, Jacksonville, 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? Tampa Bay (ride the Lions to suicide pool victory!), and sitting on a lionfish.

Lionfish don't like it when you sit on them. 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 Jacksonville giving 2 points at home against the Vikings. A lot of people think my favorite movie is Jaws, or some other movie about sharks. Not true. My favorite movie is Life Is Beautiful. I love movies with happy endings. Sweet dreams, Mr. Jew clown." 2008 Nazi Shark Record: 2-7 Great Moments In Sports Poop History I got enough great poop stories from the other week, that it seems foolish to waste them. So every week, I'll toss in a new and exciting poop story for your digestion. Take it away, fellow pooper! "At a hockey rink I used to work at the Zamboni driver got into a spat with the rink director about the Z-driver's drinking problem (which was a considerable problem.) The driver was suspended for about a week. Upon his return he wanted to make amends so he brought in a box of donuts and put it on the desk of the rink director. "In this box were several donuts of varying styles including a couple eclairs. Amongst the eclairs was a strange eclair-like donut. Upon closer inspection it turned out to be a perfectly placed log of shit stashed neatly between the pastries. Of course the Zamboni driver was fired (he later pulled another fecal prank at the public works department) but what left everyone stunned was the level of precision with which the "shit-in-the-donut-box" prank was executed. It was so well done the rink director was almost too impressed to can him." -Bob Loblaw The Proper Use Your Illusion Single-Album Track Listing Earlier this week, Leitch spent some time in his column talking about "Chinese Democracy". He then condensed the "Use Your Illusion" albums into one ideal LP. Well, no offense to Leitch, but his track listing sucked a fat dick. THE FUCK DO YOU KNOW ABOUT RAWK, FARMBOY?! "November Rain"? Really? That song eats hog. It was a bullshit Elton John wannabe song everyone else in the band hated. Here's your proper condensed album: 1. Civil War 2. Bad Obsession 3. Don't Damn Me 4. You Could Be Mine 5. Pretty Tied Up 6. Coma 7. The Garden 8. Locomotive 9. 14 Years 10. Estranged Also, Chuck Klosterman reviewed the new album at the AV Club. He said he liked the title track, which leads me to believe this review is, again, some sort of prank. Because that title track is about as enjoyable as "My World". (NOTE: The album is now streaming here. Holy ProTools, Batman.) 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: Jim Haslett Tom Cable Mike Singletary Marvin Lewis Rod Marinelli Herm Edwards Norv Turner Wade Phillips Romeo Crennel Andy Reid Gary Kubiak Jack Del Rio Dick Jauron Dick "Meltyface" Jauron joins the chopping block this week, as the Bills continue to go into the tank. Doesn't Dick Jauron seem like an interim coach, even though he's the real head coach? He's boring, he plays it safe, he's completely lacking in personality. I wish more interim coaches were like Mike Singletary, who clearly thought to himself, "Well, they probably aren't gonna retain me after the season anyway. Fuck it, I'll show everyone my ass." Hey, why not? May as well have fun with it. There's no reason Dick Jauron can't show his melty ass to his team. Gametime Snack Of The Week

People of Earth, I give you Taco Bell's new Fully Loaded Nachos. I've seen ad after ad for Tex-Mex border tragedy during games. The thing that truly awes me about these nachos is that they come in a fucking taco salad shell. That is ballsy. They've completely ignored the rule that says: If you're going to put shit in a fried taco shell, you better have at least some leafy greens in it. Not Taco Bell. They said, "Fuck that shit. We're aren't playing by your rules. WE ARE MAKING A FUCKING NACHO TACO SALAD." You have to admire them for that. You gain ten pounds simply by ordering this fucking thing. I checked the nutrition information. One serving contains 1,390 calories and 83 grams of fat. But it does have 15 grams of fiber. Thus, like any Taco Bell product, it's certain to help keep you more than regular. If you're the kind of person who orders something like this, I really don't know what to say to you. You're beyond help. If you're so fat that you can't order nachos unless the very container they come in is also deep fried, you clearly need to be hoisted to work on a daily basis. One-Sentence Excerpt From Men With Balls "Nobody likes rape, except for indie filmmakers." Gametime Beer Of The Week

Killian's Irish Red. For years, this was my favorite beer. Why? I have no clue. I think maybe because the name Killian made me think of Richard Dawson's character from The Running Man. "Hi, cutie pie. You know one of us is in deep trouble." I always want one of these whenever I see a Denver Bronco's helmet. Random FKS-Style Tidbit I have a toddler. Sometimes, toddlers act up. Now, whenever a toddler acts up, you're supposed to give the kid what is known in parenting circles as the time out. I've asked other parents how to give a time out. Apparently, if the kid is going apeshit, you call time out. Then you take them to a quiet area of the house, where they are to sit quietly for a predetermined length of time. Here's my question: how in the living FUCK do you get the kid to do that? If your kid is so well behaved that he's just gonna go sit quietly in a corner upon your command, you don't have a problem. Okay? Your kid is a goddamn angel. He could probably enroll in flight school if he's that well trained. Like that would work on any real kid. "Hey, time out! Now go stand over there quietly and compose a 5,000 word essay ruminating on your transgressions." Holy fucking shit. If I could get my kid to sit for a timeout, I'd just tell them the whole goddamn day is a time out. "Nope, it's still time out, kid. You keep acting uncommonly poised and disciplined compared to actual children. Mommy and Daddy are gonna go out for Chinese." 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, when you've got it, you flaunt it! Back in '75, the great Sidney Korshak sent me a Rolls Royce for my birthday. Extravagant? You know it! Sexy? As all hell. Now, I already had the Delorean and the Alfa Romeo. But I wasn't going to let that sexy little kitten go to waste! Instead, I used the Rolls as my private getting-around vehicle on the Paramount lot. Hernando was my personal driver, paid for by the studio. Immigrant? You bet! A great friend? The best. So very wise for a Costa Rican. Hernando watched me nail a lot of starlets in the back of that car. That little Mariel Hemingway sure knew how to grab on to a dry cleaning handle. "Your front-runner for the NFL's MVP thus far is Kurt Warner of the Cardinals. That kid's got a lotta mileage on him. But he doesn't let that doesn't stop him! He reminds me of me, in a way. Except that he's religious. And faithful to his wife. And hasn't used a woman's back for resting a coke mirror on. But there's still time, baby!" Sunday Afternoon Movie Of The Week For Lions Fans

Life Of Brian. Perhaps one day I too will have a piece of halibut that is good enough for Jehovah. Gratuitous Simpsons Quote "Dozens of people are gunned down each day, but until now, none of them was important. At 3:00 PM Friday, local autocrat C. Montgomery Burns was shot following a tense confrontation at town hall. He was taken to a hospital where he was pronounced dead. He was then taken to a better hospital, where his condition was upgraded to ‘alive'." Halftime Masturbation Kit -For the guys: Giant photo blog of Victoria's Secret model Adriana Lima. According to the Wiki, Adriana never planned on being a model. Well, isn't that always just how it fucking happens. Don't you ladies just hate girls like this? "I was just tagging along with a friend at an audition! I didn't even plan on trying out! Suddenly, they're sending me to Paris and paying me hundreds of thousands of dollars! I had no idea I had a flawless body and striking, exotic facial features! Isn't that wacky?" You go to hell, lady. While Lima is currently engaged to NBA player Marko Jaric, she also once dated Prince Wenzeslaus of Liechtenstein. Good Prince Wenzeslaus? Good Prince Wenzeslaus looked out on the poon of Lima… When his money lay round about, offered her a Zima… For a small country, that Prince is one big fucking player. -For the gals: Round two with Taylor Kitsch. Pfft. Looks like an overeater to me. Your Motivational Pregame Quote For The Weekend "Let's get stinko." -Tommy Reagan. Enjoy the games, everyone. Aaron Ross MS Paint Job by Tunison.