Your coach:

I was saying booze-urns.

Quick, let’s carry him off! Tip him almost upside down, we want his heart to be higher than the wound, let the blood flow out faster!

You should point out that the original post is actually by a guy called Mike Wallace & Gromit from a Mad Max spoof post on the new NFL dick joke blog [Door Flies Open].

Good point, OSZ, I should have credited myself. #branding

To be honest, I just want an excuse to post this.

Emperor Palpatine just doesn’t look the same in a suit.

Brady looks like he’s craving a Baby Ruth, or perhaps some Rocky Road ice cream.

I’m afraid to look.

I’d call this the worst case of a guy with an unpronounceable name destroying a Jet in New York, but…well, you know.

Taking one last glimpse over his shoulder, Steve Smith lets out a contented sigh and rides off into the Ice Up Sunset.

The Six Million Dollar Dunk.

He was probably just after its batteries. Football season is close, gotta stock up.

Odd, I can’t think of another nation that gets most of the stadium to shout a coordinated homophobic slur every time the opposing keeper takes a goal kick.

I suppose the best solution to not getting your rotors tangled in a clothesline you’re landing next to is to simply land ON the clothesline. So he had that good idea going for him.

He followed it up by threatening to butt fuck the kid’s father, with his mom’s headless corpse on the god damned lawn.

Ha, my brother played high school football with Nichols.

With the rate Hands are going down for being stupid this NFL offseason, you’d think George R.R. Martin was commissioner.

The Cleveland of sports nations. National export is Sadness.

I’m loving the Hotline Miami vibes from this season. The wall of animal masks? A spot where one is missing? Crazy crow mask guy with a shotgun! Give me more!