suddenly their Ivy League Alma Maters’s sports teams are going to start sucking horribly.

“I can see Intergluteal Clefts from my house!”

A former sax player in the band.

In the three years I lived in San Antonio, I ate at a Whataburger exactly once.

And the Super Bowl Shuffle Bears and the Packers. With Favre and his Enormous Schwanzstucker.

My happiest memory of the most recent Super Bowl was eating a pizza with a crust made from cauliflower my wife insisted I try and damn if it wasn’t tasty as hell.

I’m sure they’re Treme-ing in fear.

Wait a minute, I thought that airport in Nebraska’s was Denver’s!

“Keep matriculating the ball down the field, boys!”

Wait...you watched the Pro Bowl? Way to bury the lede.

Philly on one side, Pittsburgh on the other, and in between, Kentucky.

There are three outside Ebbing, Missouri. Is that close?

+1 Great googly-moogly.

Restored Jesus approves!

That first hurdle, of course, being the resistance of men in power who believe that a uterus is somehow an impediment to athletic excellence.

Each August, I compile a list of teams the NFL should contract (bwah-HAHAHAHAHA!) to boost competitiveness and concentrate what legit talent there may be in the league and perhaps even make me want to watch again. Somehow, in the course of listing such titans as the Jaguars, Buccaneers, Panthers, Cardinals, and, uh,…

Oh bravo.

They might unless they’ve hit their ceiling.

+1

Which one is SunTrust Park? I get my corporate stadiums all mixed up.