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.
This is Anna Colwell, the abnormally attractive young lass from those NFL Red Zone ads that have run all season long. Anna asked if you folks had any questions for her, and indeed you did. Most of those questions consisted of various groaning sounds, but a few of you were a bit more subtle than that. Here are your queries, and Anna's reply. DREW IS YOUR MATCHMAKER.
Reader Patrick: Be honest. What is a bigger turnoff...a married man or an unemployed man?
Anna: Patrick, are you asking because you're married and/or unemployed? I'd have to say unemployed, I like a man who's ambitious. A married man isn't a turn off, it's sweet when I meet a man who is devoted to his wife.
Reader Saint: Please ask Anna if she feels the zone blitz for NFL defenses was a more transformative innovation than the West Coast offense was.
Anna: Saint, well it depends on the team. If you have an experienced qb, dependable receivers, and perhaps a weaker o-line, the west coast offense would likely be a better strategy. A more defensively driven team would obviously benefit from the zone blitz. Personally, I think I like a more aggressive defensive attack.
Reader Jim: I just want to know if she could come to NY sometime soon and watch football with me and my friends and act like it's the Redzone commercial she was in. That would be awesome.
Anna: Jim, would I have to change jerseys every few seconds too? Because that would be exhausting! You may not believe me, but watching a game with me is eerily similar to the RedZone commercial. Just ask my friends and family, I'm can get really intense and LOUD.
Reader Josh: What am I wearing?
Anna: Josh, What are you wearing or what am I wearing? Currently, I'm sitting in a director's chair, getting my bangs trimmed on set...in wardrobe. Sexy right?
See now, wasn't that a productive exercise? Let's get it on.
All games in the Jamboroo are evaluated for sheer watchability on a scale of 1 to 5 Throwgasms.
Saints at Ravens: Whoever thought it was a good idea to mash up "Jingle Bells" and "Our House" by Madness for those Verizon ads needs to be eaten by reindeer. God, that is fucking awful. Mashups like that should merit prison time, especially when they fall into the hands of the advertising industry.
By the way, I mentioned it here but it bears repeating (and extra gratuitous cursing): Medleys are fucking awful. You want to play six songs? Then play six fucking songs. Not enough time to play six? Then have some balls and pick just two. Don't jam them all into one goddamn suite that leaves no one satisfied. I'm already steeling myself for inevitable Black Eyed Peas Super Bowl medley that includes "Paradise City" and "Let's Get It Started," and it's already making me unreasonably angry.
Eagles at Giants: This is the game where Mike Vick shatters his tibia. I can feel it!
Jaguars at Colts: FINISH THEM, DAVID GARRARD! FINISH THEM!
The Jags can win the division two weeks early if they win on Sunday, and that fact alone means they have no fucking prayer of beating Indy. It's just too ideal of a scenario to actually occur.
Packers at Patriots: I talked my way out of a parking ticket the other day, which has never happened to me before in my life. I parked my car, put five quarters in, and then spent too much time wherever I was before heading back to the parking lot. The meter had expired by then, and I saw the meter attendant walking to my car with his little electric ticket maker of death and I started sprinting and shouting, "WAIT! I'M HERE! I'M HERE! I'M HERE!"
The attendant saw me and said, "Today's your lucky day. Merry Christmas." Then he walked back to his car and I felt like I had just won a Super Bowl while simultaneously orgasming.
ME: YOU'RE THE BEST, METER MAN!
METER MAN: Yeah, yeah. (clearly regretting not giving me a ticket)
The only thing I've ever talked my way out of in life is sex, so this was a landmark victory. And there's no fucking way it's ever gonna happen to me again. I wish I had the moment on tape. It was glorious. And I earned the right to have that ticket torn up. If you beat the meter man to your car, you win. There's no way he should be allowed to give you a ticket in that instance. I don't see why the law can't allow for a little gamesmanship on occasion.
Jets at Steelers: One other small victory: I was taking a shit the other day and the roll was low on paper, with no spare roll within reach. And the rest of that roll was jussst the exact right amount I needed to finish my business. No need to waddle over for the second roll. I love it when things even out like that, particularly when it involves my dirty asshole.
Chargers at 49ers: I wanted to see if it was mathematically possible for a 7-9 team to win the NFC West as it stands right now. Here's how the remaining schedules shake out:
49ers: @SD, @STL, vs. ARI
Rams: vs. KC, vs. SF, @SEA
Seahawks: vs. ATL, @TB, vs. STL
Cards: @CAR, vs. DAL, @SF
Both the Rams and Seahawks need to win at least two of three to get to 8-8, and clearly both teams can drop their next two before facing each other in Week 17. In fact, EVERY team in the division could easily finish 7-9 if the Cardinals win all of their remaining games. And with the immortal Jay Feely on their side (scored 22 points last week!), how could they not? Sadly, the Cards can't win the NFC West even if they win out and the Rams and Seahawks tie in that final game (the 49ers would win the division).
Anyway, the point is that a 7-9 team winning the West is still possible and in fact likely. I know a lot of people may bitch about it if it happens, but I think it's kind of cool. I mean, it takes a staggering amount of futility on the part of an entire division to conspire to get a 7-9 team into the playoffs. It's a miraculous convergence of shitty quarterbacking, horrible team management, and Pete Carroll. With Sam Bradford getting better and better, we may not see the likes of the 2010 NFC West ever again. So savor the flavor, everyone. You are watching history being made. Terrible, terrible history.
Chiefs at Rams: Mathematically, by the way, it's possible for a 3-13 team to win an NFL division in any given season, provided everyone else in the division finishes with the same record. It's also possible for a 13-3 team to finish last in an NFL division and miss the playoffs. I hope both those things happen in my lifetime.
Lions at Bucs: The Bucs were nearly screwed last week when the Skins got a fifth down at the end of the game. I enjoy it when refs make historic errors like this. I mean, the last time a team got a fifth down was Missouri/Colorado twenty years ago. A fifth down is rarer than a Hail Mary. It's like seeing a perfect game, only the perfect game is actually a breathtaking display of incompetence. I think the NFL should tell refs to purposely make historic errors like that once a season or so, especially if those errors were to occur against the Steelers.
Seahawks at Falcons: The skinny jeans/tall boots trend for women is quickly spiraling out of control. I went to some school thing the other day and virtually every mom there was rocking skinny jeans with knee high boots. I was like a casual Hitler convention. You ladies fall in line with a fashion trend with alarming ease. You're so easily suggestible. What if Nazi Shark were to tell you this spring's hot fashion accessory will be the leather trenchcoats and red armbands? TELL ME YOU AREN'T INTRUGUED.
Texans at Titans: I saw a penalty for leverage two weeks ago, and another near call for leverage last week. Leverage is on a fucking TEAR. I love rare penalties.
Redskins at Cowboys: Someone posted a picture of Ted Bundy in the comments section of last week's Jamboroo, and there are few things I find more terrifying than pictures of serial killers. They haunt my dreams. LOOK! IT'S TED BUNDY! THAT IS THE GUY WHO DID ALL THAT HORRIBLE SHIT! HIS GHOST COULD BE OUTSIDE MY WINDOW RIGHT NOW! And it's even worse if it's police sketch of the killer in question. I saw a police sketch of Richard Ramirez once. I didn't sleep for a week.
When I was a kid, I watched "America's Most Wanted" all the time. And of course, the show always profiled people who had eluded capture, people who really could be hiding in your fucking bushes. And they always ended their reenactments with a police sketch of the murderer in question. And John Walsh would be like, "If you see Elroy ‘Knifey' Turgo, contact the police immediately." And then I'd spend the rest of the night knowing in my heart that the same guy would break into my room and stab me in the face. That's not a good show to watch if you're a huge pussy.
Broncos at Raiders: I went to work in an office for the first time in a while a few weeks back and I found myself, at one point, without much to do. So I kind of roamed the halls and looked for an office where people were hanging out, so I could awkwardly pop in and then join in, so to speak. I found a place where people were and I walked in and then I just kind of sat there, quiet because I didn't really have much to add to the conversation. And I thought to myself, "Jesus, this is just like being in fucking college again." I went to college before cell phones, so you never knew where your friends were at any particular time. And if you were bored, you'd just kind of wander around aimlessly, roaming the dorm room halls looking for people to hang out with. And then you'd find them and try and ingratiate yourself into the conversation. I was fucking miserable at this. I was always the moron who'd go, "So, what are we talking about?" and then everyone would look at me like I was a fart someone just released into the air. College isn't always as fun as people make it out to be, especially if you lack any discernible social skills.
Bears at Vikings: Phil Simms said last week that someone told him they thought Jay Cutler was a game manager. Simms then said whoever said that knows nothing about football. I call bullshit on Simms. I don't think anyone anywhere has ever called Jay Cutler a game manager. He's the precise fucking opposite of a game manager. If you need a game managed and you see Jay Cutler volunteering his services, you feed him a pound of raw ground beef with a barbiturate tucked inside and you run away. No one said that to Phil Simms. He totally made up that straw man to make himself look good.
By the way, Simms and Nantz's love affair with the Patriots (nee Peetriots if Simms is talking) is spiraling out of fucking control. It's getting uncomfortable. It's going to be a long, long, long AFC playoffs.
Cardinals at Panthers: The Vikings were officially eliminated from the playoffs last week, and it's always a sad moment when you see your team officially starts shutting everything down for the remainder of the season. It's never fun to sit through those last few games where everyone is hurt, and fucking Patrick Ramsey is somehow starting at QB, and neither the fans nor the players really want to be there anymore.
Browns at Bengals
Bills at Dolphins
Pregame Song That Makes Me Wanna Run Through A Goddamn Brick Wall
"2 Minutes to Midnight," by the immortal Iron Maiden, still going strong after all these years. Maiden's last album found its way onto a year-end best list over at the AV Club last year (a list sent in by reader Skye). I'd be far more inclined to read the AV Club on a regular basis if they didn't split every fucking feature into ten pages and load all four thousand hipster comment threads onto each page. Annoying.
Embarrassing Song I Own That Will Not Fire You Up
"Toot Toot Chuga Chuga Big Red Car," by the Wiggles. I'm forced to listen to the Wiggles a lot since I have children, and the thing that irritates me about The Wiggles (apart from the fact that they're, you know, the fucking Wiggles) is that the only thing they sing about are the Wiggles. There are hip hop artists who are less self-referential than The Wiggles. Every song is a festival of meta-ness. They're always singing about Jeff sleeping, or Murray playing the guitar, or that fucking dinosaur of theirs eating roses. They are selfish and disgusting, and I won't stand for it.
According to PollStar, the average ticket price for a Wiggles concert is $33.91. You're not a good parent if you pay that much to go be tortured by this band for two hours. You're just fucking insane.
Fantasy Player That Deserves A Quick Finger In The Ass
Miles Austin. Less than three hundred receiving yards in the past three games. Only five touchdowns on the year. YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE. YOU ARE A DISGRACE TO YOUR FAMILY AND FRIENDS AND IF YOU BELONG TO A CHURCH THEY SHOULD HAVE YOU EXCOMMUNICATED. I was knocked out of playoff contention in Leitch's league last week, which means I will go another year without having won a fantasy football title. I've played this stupid, pointless, annoying, frustrating, agonizing, irrelevant, cocksucking, buttfucking, asstrucking game for 16 years. And do I even fall backwards into a title? FUCK AND NO. No, I just keep on losing, and I just keep on coming back the next year to have a shovel full of shit jammed in my fucking face. GOD FUCKING DAMMIT. I hate you Miles Austin. I hate you and your giant mouth. You've ruined me.
Suicide Pick Of The Week
Last week's picks of Denver, Atlanta, and Pittsburgh were 2-1. The Jamboroo is now 24-10 on the season. 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 Oakland, Tampa, Chicago, and Christmas tree ornaments that refuse to face the right way. We trimmed the tree a couple weeks back, and I always try and make sure the tree is evenly decorated, and that shiny ornaments are hung near lights for optimum shininess, and that all ornaments are facing the right way.
But fucking A, some of those ornaments have no interest in cooperating. Even if you turn them around, or change the hook, or untwist the loop, it doesn't matter. That fucking school bus ornament will still turn away from you like an autistic child. HUGELY FUCKING ANNOYING. This is why I like glass balls (who doesn't?!), and ornaments that have no discernible front and back. They cannot hide from me.
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 Arizona getting 2.5 points on the road against Carolina. SEVEN WINS IN A ROW. Everyone emailed me this week to let me know about the supposed JEW conspiracy to orchestrate shark attacks in Egypt. Don't make me laugh. No shark friend of mine is a Zionist sympathizer, I assure you. That's all just an urban leg…"
AVNER SHARK: So you think it is urban legend, do you?
ROLF: Eric Bana Shark! YOU FIEND! THE STORIES ARE TRUE!
AVNER SHARK: They are. And I shall have Israel's revenge upon her enemies!
ROLF: Traitor! You're a disgrace to your superorder! I WILL BITE YOUR JEW FIN!
AVNER SHARK: (pulls gun) Not so fast, fuckface. You back away now.
ROLF: THIS ISN'T OVER. YOU HEAR ME? THIS ISN'T OVER!!!
2010 Nazi Shark Record: 9-4-1
Great Moments In Poop History
Reader Ben sends is a story I call POOPSCRIPTION REFILL:
When I was a freshman in high school, I was dating a girl a year older than me (who is now my wife). I hadn't yet gotten my driver's license so she was pretty much my chaperone wherever we went. Well it was around Christmas time so she decided that we could go Christmas shopping. We lived in a small town in Mississippi. We have a few fast food restaurants and a WalMart but that is about it. Needless to say, most people in town took the hour long drive to Jackson to do shopping since there were malls that contained clothing not named Faded Glory.
So we head up to Jackson for the day and spend a few hours at the mall. Afterwards we were both hungry and decided we would get a bite to eat. There was a Logan's Roadhouse that had just opened close to the mall so we decided to check it out. It was pretty much the chain steakhouse I expected, but with bonus unlimited Roasted peanuts waiting for you at your table. I ordered the mesquite chicken and devoured as many peanuts as possible while I waited. The mesquite chicken turned out rather tasty. It was smothered in multi-colored cheese with jalapeno peppers on top and left me quite satisfied.
So after leaving Logan's, we hit the interstate for the drive back to our hometown. About the time we hit Hazlehurst which is 30 minutes from home, my stomach is doing things it has never done before. I am bending over agonizing in pain while she is driving. I act like I'm messing with my shoe to try to play this thing off. Well it waxes and wanes the entire trip home. By the time we hit the exit to our town, I can not take it anymore, but I can't let her know that I'm about to unleash hell in my jeans.
The first thing I see is the Burger King. I tell her to pull over and let me run in and get a drink with the excuse that I was thirsty. I try to calmly walk inside but once the door is shut behind me, I am in a slow jog. I get to the bathroom, open the stall door, and sit down. I am about to experience utter joy when I look over. NO EFFIN TOILET PAPER. I jerk my pants back up and at this time, my bowels have disassociated themselves from normal nervous system control. It's coming whether I am ready or not. I bust open the door and am in a dead sprint to the car.
I jump in the passenger seat and am yelling go, go, go. Kim is asking me what's going on and the only thing I can say is RITE AID (a local pharmacy right across the street). The car is still moving when I jump out and bust through the doors of rite aid. I see a worker to my left, but there is no time to politely ask where the restroom is. As I run down the aisle, I yell out "where is the toilet". The worker must have felt me pain as he yelled back, "Double doors to the left." I am unbuckling my pants as I run so I will be ready when the moment comes. My cheeks finally touch porcelain and I let loose what had to be the most explosive diarrhea of my life. It was a moment of such joy that tears honestly streamed down my face. No more pain. No more agony. After finishing and calmly collecting myself, I think of how I am gonna walk out of this place without feeling like an idiot. I decide I should probably make a purchase since I just demolished their bathroom. So I pick up a pack of gum and hand it to the fine gentleman who so bravely gave me directions to the toilet. He never said a word. I will never know for sure, but I have a feeling he had been in my shoes.
A Rite Aid employee let you use the head?! And was actually helpful?
/hates drugstore employees
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:
Wade Phillips (FIRED!)
Brad Childress (FIRED!)
Josh McDaniels (FIRED!)
Reader JobuNeedsARefill wanted Carroll added this week:
As the Seahawks go down 27-7 on ANOTHER Alex Smith TD pass (now 37-7 on a Pick-6 during the time it has taken me to write this), I have to ask why Pete Carroll has not made it on the list for the Jambaroo's "Fire this Asshole".
There are 13 coaches listed. Are you telling me that glorified cheerleader Pete Carroll is nearly in the "better half of coaches" in today's NFL?
Of course not. But you rarely see a one-and-done coach. He'll get another year. Not deservedly, but he will.
Gametime Snack Of The Week
Dunkin' Donuts Pancake Bites! What an innovation. The fast food cousin of Jimmy Dean's legendary Pancakes N' Sausage on a stick, Pancake Bites do away with the stick entirely and are, at their very essence, a pancake-filled donut hole. Irresistible. I've always wanted a donut hole that was filled with meat instead of jelly, and at last my prayers have been answered. It gives me hope that there will one day be a donut hole filled with both meat AND jelly. And cream cheese! It just feels right.
Gametime Cheap Beer Of The Week
LION IMPERIAL! Wait! Waaait! I never had a chance to drink youuu! Reader Jesse sends in this amazing can of horse piss:
Recently stumbled upon this at the liquor store, Lion Imperial. This gem comes in at an expensive 5 dollars per six pack. It is so gross that the makers of this beverage only put it in 11.2 ounce cans.
My second mistake (the first one was actually paying for this shit) was pouring it into a glass. This beer had EXTREME head- so after waiting about 10 minutes for it to settle down, I took the first glorious sip, and my face got hit with a wave of unparalleled awfulness. Waiting for the beer to de-foam made it somewhat warm, which didn't help matters. This crap tastes like melted pennies, with an aftertaste that makes you feel like you just drank a recycled fart. It definitely got me drunk due to the 8.8 % ABV, but at what cost? I would never purchase this beer again, unless I wanted to give it to someone I absolutely hated.
God, look at that can. It's like looking at the side of a van. I MUST HAVE IT. Jesse notes that Lion Imperial comes from Sri Lanka. I think if you drink this with Sri Lankan food your body will turn inside out.
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 Tom Brady of the Patriots! And lock it down! I'm not gonna be changing that prediction any time soon! Now, as you know, the Golden Globe Awards were announced this week. Respected? NOT REALLY! Prestigious? FUCK NO! But hey, it's a shiny object and that's what we live for here in LA.
"I'll never forget the first time I bribed a Globe voter. These Hollywood Foreign Press guys are all repugnant human beings. They're all named Ahmed and they all have soul patches under their lips. And they wear too much jewelry and Old Spice. They terrify me. Anyway, I'm wining and dining this one voter named Ahmed (naturally) over at the Beverly Wilshire. And I mean I really lay it on thick. Champagne? YOU BET! Caviar milkshakes? ABSOLUTELY! And I say to Ahmed, ‘So, can I count on Sliver being there when the time comes for the Best Musical or Comedy noms to be handed out?'
"And the balls on this guy! You know what he says to me? ‘Well, I'm not entirely convinced.' CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT? No one says that to Evans. Even Dunaway didn't say it when I first bedded her, and no one is pickier about her penises than Faye Dunaway! So I take him up to the suite and introduce him to some starlets. Then I make sure there's a goodie bag filled with cocaine and emeralds for him on the way out. And he tells me he still needs convincing! Well, I just told him what was what right there and then. And I don't have to tell you that this Ahmed prick went on to be the President of Qatar's winning World Cup bid! The snake!"
Sunday Afternoon Movie Of The Week For Panthers Fans
The Thin Blue Line. This is basically the only time I've ever seen reenactments actually make a documentary better. Except of course, for "America's Most Wanted." John Walsh really knows to restage a shady meeting in a pool hall.
Gratuitous Simpsons Quote
Lurleen: My name's Lurleen Lumpkin.
Homer: That's a pretty name.
Lurleen: Oh, you think so?
Homer: Maybe. I'm not sure. I forgot it.
Halftime Masturbation Kit
-For the guys: Kyla Cole (NSFW), who is extremely naked.
-For the gals: Jim from Outsports sends in this photo of Broncos wideout Eric Decker. Say, he IS attractive! Wait, did I just say that out loud?
Enjoy the games, everyone.
Photoshop by 289.