Man, the games yesterday were really, really, really bad. I have a purple and black paper bag to put over my head when SP and I go to Lambeau to see the Rodgers-free packers take on the Ravens and Joe Flaccid. The other games were no better- just piss poor play. If I’m ever made King, I will take five actions:

  1. Get rid of all domes and artificial turf.
  2. Have all Superbowls schedled for outdoor stadiums in snow zones.
  3. Fuck parity: no salary caps and reduce the number of teams by 50%. Eliminate any team playing in warm winter climates.
  4. Get rid of the pussy rules that make hard hitting old fashioned football illegal.
  5. Not allow any TV coverage that talks about anthems, social justice, or anything other than football. And lose that horrible chick announcer with the air-raid siren voice, the one who makes my wife scream at the TV, “SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU STUPID TWAT!”

But like Charlie Brown every year, I know Lucy isn’t going to pull the ball away, so I’m going to watch Monday Night Football tonight. Enough ranting, let’s see what’s in the news.

Apropos to my post this past weekend about Dr. Strangelove, it’s time to buy stock in the company that makes CRM-114s. Abandon all hope, ye who foolishly thought that Trump would be less war-bonered than Obama or Clinton.

Do you feel the same contempt that I do about Chris Christie? Do you feel like you couldn’t lose any more respect for him as a human being, that your regard for him is at rock-bottom? Well, here’s a diamond-tipped drill to prove you wrong.

How do you sell out of the “Female Libertarian” costume when there are no female libertarians? Huh? This is some conspiracy shit up in here.

So let me get this straight- Progs make numerous death threats to the EPA boss, then complain when he increases security. Ohhhhh-kay.

A Jewish pedophile? This cannot be.

They named a dog Strudel, then were shocked that he got fat. Humans, hmpf.

And of course, obligatory Old Guy Music. The finest feminist anthem ever written. And seriously, listen to it all the way through. Trust the Old Man.