Thursday, December 3, 2009

Dead To Me


Dear Housh, or as you shall be referred to for the rest of my life: Cock-Sucking Pig-Fucking Worthless Cunt-Sucking Piece of shit,

Fuck you, you fucking pile of dog shit. This is what we're paying $8 million a year for?!?! 14 fucking yards against the fucking Rams! Here's a list of people that could get at least 40 yards against the Rams:

Justin Timblerlake
RuPaul
Julia Childs
Tahoe Santa (good for 67 and a touch easily)
My left nut
My right nut
RuPaul's nuts
Ken Ober
Woodrow Wilson
Kiera Knightley
The guy who hit the Balloon Boy balloon with a shovel to get the air out (easily the most underrated savage move of the year)
Malia Obama
The ShamWow guy (who has prolably been raped so many times in jail by now that his asshole looks the black hole Eric Bana used in Star Trek to go back in time 129 years)
The guy from Police Academy that did all the noises
Ted Danson's hair piece
Deon Butler (the third string receiver on the Hawks who unequivocally should be starting over you)
My Mom
My Mom's Mom
My Mom's Mom's Mom
Your Mom
Anyone on fucking earth's Mom

Yes, most of the people on the list don't have the slightest bit of athletic ability. Yes, most are women and a lot of them are dead, but if we put these odds up in Vegas, we'd all win money betting against your dumb fucking ass.

"It's not my fault. It's the play calling. Hasselbeck isn't looking my way. We take what the defense gives us. I'm just running the plays they call."

Oh cut the fucking shit! Which is exactly what the Hawks should do this offseason, cut the fucking shit in the #84 jersey and forget this goddamn fucking thing ever happened.

Thanks,
Seahawk Fans everywhere.



JR

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Now it feels like the holiday season.

tahoesanta said...

Respect.

Caity said...

JR,

You do blind rage like no one else. I don't even know who this guy is, but if I were him I would be sitting in the corner shaking, crying into my jersey, and begging to return to the safety and warmth of my mother's womb. Or the sweet release of death. Well played, sir.

Regards,

Caity