So there I was…..

tonehhhhh

I woke up about 30 minutes before the Packer game this morning and almost shit my pants ’cause I thought I was gonna miss kick off. So, I got up and got dressed real quick to run downstairs and see if I could catch any fucking weird shit during the pre-game NFL Network. I’m pretty sure Michael Irvin snorted up some cocaine before he made his picks and Jimmy Johnson looked like he was thinking about killing himself after choosing his. I mean, after fucking 10 billion years of being attached to the NFL, I’d probably feel the same way as Jimmy. Michael probably just snorted the cocaine to keep from killing himself. Time to grow some balls and quit, boys, there’s more than just football out there in the world. Arm yourself to the teeth.

Then kickoff happens and I’m scanning. Of course, Dallas doesn’t even make a first down and now I know why Irvin was the only one who didn’t choose the Packers as the winning team…. Oh wait, it’s because he was a wide receiver for the Cowboys and has this gang mentality ingrained into his mind — can’t function in normal society, so becomes sports analyst. Of course he’s gonna pick the Cowboys every time, even if he doesn’t want to.

So, Packers gets the ball and the lovely, talented, and sexy Aaron Rodgers just hands the ball to the 2nd year rookie, Devante (that’s how you actually spell it) Adams and the ball just slides down the field. And my dearest dear makes the touchdown pass to hand the ball off to the Cowboys again. It didn’t even seem like Rodgers really cared about getting the ball down the field because he knew Dallas would underestimate his wittle wide receiver, and Donald Driver protege, Adams. It’s all a mind game, isn’t it?

I noticed that penalties were called on the Cowboys for holding three times in the first quarter and it wasn’t until the last 2 minutes that a pass interference was called on Packers’ Tramon Williams. The dude was literally just running forward and the flag was thrown; the ball wasn’t even headed for the defensive player who they claimed was interfered. I couldn’t help but think that Jason Garrett handed the ref a few hundreds before the play started to call any penalty on the Packers he could. It’s like tipping the waitress. Man, Cowboys, you need to put the reigns on your coach ’cause he’s making you guys look like you can’t win a game unless it’s paid off.

Then the second quarter starts and I’m thinkin’, “How come I haven’t caught any of those facemask calls on the Packers who I know have had some penalties that weren’t called?” and as I’m thinking that, another flag is thrown on the Cowboys for offside. Jesus, McCarthy must have made more investments than Garrett, or maybe he does less heroin. Now, I’m trying real hard to pay attention to the Packers’ defense (no point in trying to pay attention to offense, too busy thinking about Aaron in his spandex), and I can’t help but notice that the cameras aren’t showing any of the players except for the ones who are in the direct vicinity of the ball. So then I’m like, “Alright, gotta pay attention to offense now. Hmph.” Same shit. NFL must have gotten pretty pissed that we noticed that Dallas facemask penalty against the Lions last week. “Adjust the cameras! We can’t have our games called by anyone else except for our NFL henchmen! Give ’em more dope!” — NY Bozos

Packers get the ball again and Aaron misses the snap. Wat? Dude, he didn’t even say “hike,” what kind of long snapper ARE YOU, GOODE?! Did McCarthy hand you a bonus check or did he threaten to kill you if you didn’t make the snap too soon? Probably threatened to kill you if you didn’t take the bonus check; that’s how it works, isn’t it? Aaron looked pretty upset about this whole snap-too-soon, sack-to-fumble fiasco so I was thinkin’, “It’s ok, darling, just remember that one time we met at the beach in San Diego and you told me I was the most beautiful woman you’d ever seen. Hehe.” We grew up in Wisconsin together. 😉

Anyway, I’m sending him all of this positive energy to make up for that shit, ready to look for some more weird shit then I get a phone call from one of my buddies. I drop everything and answer, but I scold him for taking my attention away from the Packers. He laughs and tells me that what he has to tell me is more important than Aaron Rodgers in spandex. I’m like, “Dude, what’s more important than that?” Then he goes on to tell me that some females are lighting me up for the seventh chapter of Heroin Disbursement and the War on Society, saying that what I said happened couldn’t have possibly happened and that there’s no way I survived that kind of torture — that the story was made up and what-have-you. Thanks man, that is more important than Aaron Rodgers in spandex. (No offense, dear. ❤ Pun intended. ❤ )

Now I’m not paying attention to the rest of my beloved Packers game to make this message totally and completely clear: if you have not served in the military, you do not know the first thing as to what goes on in that institution. You cannot even begin to fathom the amount of abuse that active duty and veterans suffer… Especially if you’re a female. So, go on your pathetic little life and keep on thinking you know it all. You go ahead, get your hair, nails, and botox did while sitting around like a little fucking shit waiting for what the next thing your network tells you to spew out of your pretty little mouth. I got a few things I’d like to stick in it too.

In fact, I’d love for you to send your thugs to threaten me so I can turn the camera on and show Cpl Kerkman kill mode ’cause God only knows that you’re too fucking scared to even show your own goddamned face…. That’s if you can even find me, and you won’t, but even if you did, you still wouldn’t show your face ’cause that’s how much of a coward you are. Like I’m the only Marine who suffered that shit.

Shit, if you were a real journalist, you would try to find other Marines who suffered the same abuse and write a fucking magnificent masterpiece about it. But you’re not a real journalist, and you can’t write. Even if you were ambitious and courageous enough to do something like that (like Jesse Ventura: Navy SEAL ❤ ), the Marines wouldn’t talk to you ’cause you’re a fucking nasty, insolent bitch. My Marines love the shit out of me, and you’ll find that out soon. Go worship Satan some more and maybe he’ll give you some more advice on how to be a complete and utter goddamned failure. I hope you get what’s coming to you, and I hope you suffer the same abuse that I did ’cause you deserve it and you wouldn’t survive it, whore.

Also, in case you didn’t notice, I made your ass chewing into a Gonzo sports piece. That’s what real writers are able to do. Plus, I know you didn’t notice ’cause you’re a fucking retarded female who doesn’t think that the NFL matters in society. So much for what you know. Haha, absolutely fucking nothing.

PS: I’m not concerned about Chair Force talking shit. You guys gotta torture Marines ’cause your own fucking nasty selves can’t handle torture ’cause you all look like steamrollers. Lol. Fuck you.

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