Sunday, January 20, 2008

Sunday Prayer


Watching the early game today (and maybe the late one) might not be an option for me. I’ve been up all night and need some fucking sleep. I’ve been under the weather for over 2 weeks now. I get this odd feeling that people think I’m “sick” when they see me. Not the cool “sick”, but the literal one. You know, the “don’t go anywhere near that person because it looks like he has HIV” kind. So, before I go to bed, I just want everyone to do me one little favor: say a pray (or two) that either the Giants or Charges pull off an upset. I don’t need to watch a two week Favre/Brady d-sucking marathon where everyone in the mainstream media proves its actually possible to suck the two of them off without touching their dongs.

The two weeks in between the championship games and the Super Bowl are always soo excruciating. If the Packers and Patriots are playing, excruciating turns into catastrophic. Really, nothing is worse than hearing the CBS/ESPN/FOX/NFL Network dip shits talk about the dip shits who will be playing in the game. If I hear one more person call Favre a “gunslinger” or refer to the Patriot’s early season cheating as “Spy Gate”, I’m going to lose my mind. I don’t want to lose my mind, so I need you all to pray to whoever it is you pray to. See, usually I’d just turn off the TV, get a newspaper and/or surf the web, and move on. However, this strategy doesn’t work when the Super Bowl rolls around. Everyone becomes kind of dip shitty with their reporting; even those sources you didn’t think would.

I’m going to pray to Jesus today, but really, feel free to choose your own god. Just make sure you ask for a Giants and/or Charges win. I’m putting all of my hopes and dreams for a “Favre/Brady Free” two weeks on the shoulders of you people, Eli Manning, and Philip Rivers. I don’t like my chances.

Here’s why:

  1. I’m pretty sure Eli has Down syndrome (at least a little bit of it).
  2. Phillip Rivers is better at making an ass out of himself than throwing a football.
  3. We all know nobody’s actually going to pray.

So, I’ll most likely have to deal with it, but just know, you let me down by not praying. I’ll be bed side in t-minus 5 minutes with rosary in hand saying; “Our father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death.” Ha, and people didn’t think I still knew the “Our Father”.

The last part was (at least mildly) sacrilegious. I apologize to any and all holy rollers who read this blog.


Matt Arrowhead

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