Football porn does nothing for me anymore
Nowadays, I find football boring.
Professional football is dissolving before our eyes. Every quarterback is a Nintendo quarterback (a quarterback that has amazing and perhaps impossible statistics), no one runs the football anymore (ever see a fullback anymore?), the only time you can touch a wide receiver is to shake his hand before the game starts, and a majority of the games are high scoring affairs — defenses need not apply here. You can’t even go after the quarterback and bully him like during the ’90s.
Not only do I find the actual football lackluster, but the constant media ritualization around football is fucking obnoxious.
There is this jerkoff TV commercial that comes on where this middle class white guy screams and runs around like a mental patient because he just got the COX bundle. Now he can read his email on an iPad, write emails, and most importantly watch the NFL on his iPad. Apparently it’s not enough to ignore your wife and watch football on a flat-screen HD TV, now you can continue to watch the game while you crap out the nachos with cheese and seven Bud Lights you slammed down your gullet.
I don’t care if I have to take a massive dump! I need to continue to watch the New Orleans Saints! Thank you iPad and COX Communications!
Theoretically he just paid $700 to continue to ignore his miserable existence.
Bud Light. Those beer commercials are so misleading. It’s always some bored asshole walking into a bar, down on life, he opens up a can of Bud Light, and all of the sudden it fucking snows and unbelievably hot broads come out of nowhere and find him so irresistible and interesting. Ever have light beer? Ever drink something that was so horrible that you all of sudden are inclined to punch someone in the face? All light beer gives you the feeling of the punchies. Next time you see a lady friend of yours with a black eye, it’s either spousal abuse or light beer — take your pick. How can anyone drink light domestic cheap ass beer is beyond my comprehension. Oh wait — it fucks you up without spending a ton of money.
I get it now.
Beer commercials, Cox Communications, and then boner pills — the onslaught continues!
I know we live in a society that is obsessed with sex and yet barely has sex, however, enough with the boner pill commercials. We are constantly barraged with commercials about men who are waiting for the “right time,” swallow medication originally researched for blood pressure (Viagra was originally going to be developed for blood pressure), and commence on the gentle plowing of his wife. Notice all the men in the Viagra commercials are older than the pretty younger wives they tote around. Meanwhile, look at real life. Does any man in his 60s really wanna bang his current ball n’ chain? Ladies, is your man still really a prize at 60? Do you wanna do the nasty with him? It’s very telling about where the relationship is when you have to plan your sexual intercourse and wait for the “right moment.”
Let’s talk about my penis and erections.
I can’t wait to lose my erection. I mean it. Do you know how much trouble my penis gets me into? Do you know all the average-looking broads I have slayed because my penis is like a coked-up Sam Kinison? My penis is up all night, it’s always screaming at me, “It’s party time”, and it’s always making decisions for me. Bad ones.
My penis is always in the “two-minute offense” or commonly called “hurry up offense” (thank you Bill Burr for that line), and it’s true. My junk is always like a quarterback hauling ass to score a quick touchdown in two minutes, trying to avoid linebackers. The day where my dong doesn’t make an impulsive and irrational decision is the day I either can’t get a boner anymore or I am dead. Either way in that particular scenario — I win.
We have constant boner worship and obsession in this country. Enough!
Jimmy Johnson talking about the male enhancement pill ExtenZe (this shit apparently makes a two inch penis into a two and half inch penis with “natural ingredients) and how it works for him and it should work for you. Joe Thiesmann is talking about his aging prostate and selling pills. Getting old looks like it sucks and I get how people are going to be bummed potentially getting old. However, seeing old has-been football players and coaches will not make me feel any better. I don’t even care if Bill Parcells (one of my favorites) is selling pills that makes every chick look like Alice Eve (Google her unless you have a heart condition), I am not buying your stupid goddamn pills. When death comes, my bags are packed and my passport is ready.
The constant bombardment of NFL commercials gets old. Isn’t it annoying? I get it — the game is on at 4 p.m. Trust me, I plan on ignoring my wife/girlfriend all Sunday (also Saturday if I like college football — don’t get me started on that either). Not only do you get constant reminders about the game but you also are told to join in on the hilarious hijinks of the pre-game and post-game shows. Just what you always wanted — an hour-long talk show with four guys with brain injuries. Baseball pregame and postgame shows are just as horrible with stupid ex-players and managers who can only catch flies with their mouths.
The sports commentators during the actual games make you want to hang yourself. I want to invent a machine that silences the sports commentators. A guy just scored a touchdown? How can I tell? Is it the idiotic dancing in the end-zone? Is it the score change? Someone tell me please, because I am eternally stupid. We don’t need these guys at all. They explain nothing and can predict the future of the game even less.
Fantasy football is gambling. Yeah, I’m going to take a shot at the nerds who all think they can be a football General Manager. You just gamble — get over yourself.
Football pornography is just like actual pornography. It looks good for about five minutes and then you realize you are naked and pulling your taffy to Jim Nance and Phil Simms trying to explain what an end around play is. Meanwhile, Simms is just happy remembering where he lives without pissing his pants.