Wait, that's it? We just lost? Throw the red flag Marvin! We need to challenge this shit, because losing is not fucking cool. Don't they realize how early I had to wake up this morning to come tailgate? I'm talking still dark. Three hundred dollars on beer, hamburgers and brats, down the tubes. Seriously, fellas I'm still drunk as a skunk and frankly I'm really fucking confused. Last week, now that was a game. Obviously you heard me screaming my lungs out and responded with a big W. My well placed "Marvin for president!" and "Palmer for president!" cries were undoubtedly the fuel to your fiery fourth quarter rally. This week was no different, trust me. I went to the doctor on Wednesday just to have my vocal cords checked out. Just a milde tweak, but I'm still in game shape. So what the hell happened out there? I even stepped it up a knotch this week. That's right, I know you saw me. Row Q, Seat 7. It took hours to paint half my body black and the other half orange. I had to do that shit last night and sleep in it. One good set of sheets ruined. But you know what? It would have been totally worth it, for the win. Because I'm a team player, that's why. Twelveth man, homeboy!!!! But now I'm just a drunk guy covered in body paint. And seriously, why the fuck didn't I bring a shirt? Look, drunk guy covered in body paint celebrating a win: awesome. Drunk guy covered in body paint looking sad after a tough loss: pathetic. And you know what the worst part is, now I have go home and wash all this shit off. It's quite symbolic, really. I'll be trying to cleanse myself of the shame of this defeat while at the same time trying to figure out how to get paint out of my belly button. Oh yeah, and you know what color black and orange mix to make? That's right, brown. Brown like the big turd you guys laid out there on the field today. Goddamnit, I thought we were a team.
P.S. Michael Vick, you suck.