Well, well well.
Ain't nobody here but me and the good Lord. I've been trying to get traded off of this blog but Marge won't let me go. But now she's off flying around God knows where, Dodger is out in the woods again gettin his ass kicked by the Green Dude and Karl's off somewhere doing whatever it is he does. That Truman freak is flittin around here but I don't give a damn about some ghost. Jesus is my shield.
Last night I broke into Marge's room in the basement and I slept in one of her hyperbaric chambers. The Player is refreshed and ready to take what is rightfully his. First I went on the Internet to find out the team colors my football team, the, um, Colts -- I mean Cowboys -- and made a few changes.
If Marge won't trade me to another blog, I'll just make this blog my own.
Here's some interesting statistics:
81 -- my receptions last year
1,355 -- my yards last year
15 -- my touchdowns last year
0 -- my Superbowl rings
130 -- my receptions last year if Romo would throw me the damn ball
2,000 -- my yards last year if Romo would throw me the damn ball
25 -- my touchdowns last year if Romo would throw me the damn ball
12 -- my Superbowl rings if Young, Garcia, McNabb and Romo would throw me the damn ball
That's the God's honest proof of what I've been saying all along.
OK, kids. See ya all next time on The Players Blog!
Ain't nobody here but me and the good Lord. I've been trying to get traded off of this blog but Marge won't let me go. But now she's off flying around God knows where, Dodger is out in the woods again gettin his ass kicked by the Green Dude and Karl's off somewhere doing whatever it is he does. That Truman freak is flittin around here but I don't give a damn about some ghost. Jesus is my shield.
Last night I broke into Marge's room in the basement and I slept in one of her hyperbaric chambers. The Player is refreshed and ready to take what is rightfully his. First I went on the Internet to find out the team colors my football team, the, um, Colts -- I mean Cowboys -- and made a few changes.
If Marge won't trade me to another blog, I'll just make this blog my own.
Here's some interesting statistics:
81 -- my receptions last year
1,355 -- my yards last year
15 -- my touchdowns last year
0 -- my Superbowl rings
130 -- my receptions last year if Romo would throw me the damn ball
2,000 -- my yards last year if Romo would throw me the damn ball
25 -- my touchdowns last year if Romo would throw me the damn ball
12 -- my Superbowl rings if Young, Garcia, McNabb and Romo would throw me the damn ball
That's the God's honest proof of what I've been saying all along.
OK, kids. See ya all next time on The Players Blog!
16 comments:
Nice post! It looks like you'll be joining me soon in the spirit world. We'll go for a drink!
Marge gonna be mad you took her blog. Hmmm
Karl, you can be my second in command. You can live in the shed and you can have all the damn french fries and spam you want. First thing I want you to do is get rid of those damn polar bears.
That potted meat's a little loud, I reckon, but I like them french fried potaters. Hmmmm
What the hell is that???
Hmmm. That's one them cats ol' Marge kicked out of the house. They been livin' up in the attic. Hmmmm. They never hurt nobody
Hell! He just threw up! Now he's pickin the eyeballs out them bears and kickin them all over the floor! You get them damn cats out of the house and get your ass back in the shed and take that damn rusty lawnmower blade with you! What do you have that blade in here for anyway?
Hmmm. I'm a fixin' to kill you with it, I reckon
Arhhhhhhh! Damn.
Oooooh! You're here already? That was fast. Mojito?
I'm dead? Damn!
I reckon' ol' Jesus gone be mad now too. Hmmmm
dude, this is some sick and twisted stuff. I love it.
With The Player suffering, we can finally lay a painful chapter of history to bed.
Hey, I still get paid, RIGHT??????
I went away for a week of vacation and all hell broke loose on this blog. I'm just scratching my head...I don't get much of it.
However, I love that Marge's pic is from the movie Brazil (a classic) and that Truman Capote is a long lost dead friend. (I'm jealous of that tidbit.)
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