WHat they need is the impenetrable defense of the most terrifying forwards/centers lineup in history: the 1991-1992 Bucks. Brad Lohaus. Frank Brickowski. Larry Krystowiak. Danny Schayes. Moses Malone. Dave Popson. Fred Roberts.

Somebody tell him that the Cleveland Browns are not named for the color of his favorites liquors.

“And another brutal thing? The rampant nepotism akin to a Tinsel-Town legacy system that closes opportunities to people of color. Whoops.”

“St. Louis is terrible. Police violence, economic stagnation, shitty sports owners who regularly extort the city into draining its public coffers to build a new stadium for a third-rate franchise.. all in all, the Rams should be allowed to move.

@ChrisBerman New Year’s Eve means #BottomlessFries and #GoingLimpLikeASackofManure when they try to make you leave #Applebees

Looking forward to their next generation-spanning song “We Got Our Name From a Simpsons Episode When It Used To be Funny and Quotable”

Only wish the patriarch of the Giants clan was still there so he could have gotten off a “What’s your beef, Wellington?” zinger

If only there was somebody there with an MD specialization in neurology to intelligently answer the question, but they got Carson instead.

This seems roughly congruous with a football owner with whom the words “truck-stop” and “fraud” are associated.

A press release from the International Society of Bond Underbosses accuses Urlacher of ‘selling out’

Uncle John’s Banned (by the SEC)

You must mean stepfather, there’s no way Granville Waiters isn’t Marshall’s biological dad.

A related thing to remember is that although Texas is hopeless on the statewide level, it has just-barely-blue cities (Austin, San Antonio, Houston, Dallas). They are run by largely sensible people who suffer from the “shit rolls downhill” callousness of our legislature which over-represents rural and suburban…

(interview after pro-am golf tournament)

A shame, the unauthorized biography “From Bountygate to Opiates: The Sean Payton Story” would have written it.

(Irsay in drug-induced panic) How am I going to get these guys to share responsibility? (sees pill cutter among the paraphernalia on the coffee table) (Beethoven’s Ode to Joy plays)

If you want your props, Carly, drive a few more businesses into the ground (really? just the one?), develop a board game (I suggest ‘I, Carly’) and get a reality show, maybe one where scads of unqualified reactionary loons vie for a political nomination.

“The rematch between these two teams is on February 13, in Norman.”

To make it up to the GM, a clearly pill-addled Irsay gave his permission to draft as many wide receivers and kick return specialists as he wants in the next draft.

“Have we finally lost our appetite for mediocre TV?”