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Now available for preorder:
The San Francisco Panorama.
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COMPILED BY JEFF JOHNSON - - - - [These picks were removed from the main page to spare you the embarrassment of having to read them.] - - - - WEEK SIXTEEN Last Week: 10-6
Christmas Thoughts Imagine all of the people in the world. They were all born, and for a while at least, the only thing they knew and loved was their mother. Think of all the billions of people again. Quickly. Now think of that love. C'mon, hurry up. Think of that energy, that love, and how if that energy was a bright green line and you were in outer space looking down at our tiny planet all you would see is a thick scribbling of green lines. It is a lot of energy, and yet the world today is still beyond fucked up. You'd think that pure love would almost manifest itself as some kind of force here on earth. Even the most heinous fucker has to love his mother, right? So now imagine Dick Cheney and his job right now, officially known as Vice President. And then, in addition to such a position (much like a really nice suit, with a ton of hidden pockets—one for coins, one for a stripper's address, one for some really good German caramels, one with keys to a chopper, one with a Luger in it, and so forth) he probably has other interests, other concerns and other jobs, that are sort of correlated with that amazing VP title. Undoubtedly, these other jobs Dick is interested in help him a lot. They give him warm fuzzies and maybe a few dollars. Without sounding like a naysayer, the jury is still out as to whether Dick Cheney's outside interests really are beneficial to us as citizens, or if when we're encouraged to proudly wave the American flag to the rest of the world (fat Dutch kids, evil Koreans, Somalian goalies) , we're unknowingly waving a flag for Dick Cheney and his interests, which may or may not be a shitload more important to him than the normal shlubs of the U.S. like us. What does this have to do with football? Well, imagine if you were a huge Buccaneers fan. You rolled around on your living room carpet after every touchdown, careful not to spill your punch. Secretly, Head Coach Jon Gruden was, I don't know, killing orphans who really liked the Falcons. And you had a chance to speak up, 'cause the Buccaneers are all about free speech. And you said, "Uh, it's in Jon Gruden's best interest to keep killing these orphans, because he gets 32 dollars for each one of their heads at an alligator bait shop." And then everybody said, "You are a total dick, man. If Gruden (and by default we) don't kill these awful orphan Falcon fans, they are going to really fuck with us. You should apologize, and then kill yourself." Now Dick Cheney is no orphan-killer. He's an orphan-maker. Huh, huh, huh. Just kidding. We really don't know what Dick does, because every time there are questions, they get swept under the rug, and we get a really big problem (terror threat) to deal with. Now, that I think about it, I'm probably wrong. Dick Cheney is probably punching in for 35 hours a week as Vice President, and then spending 60 more hours per week trying (pro bono) to get us better cotton candy prices and new satin clown-suits for all our poor clowns who still need the work. So thank you for that, and what a great Christmas it will be. Getting back to the moms thing, I was originally going to write about Dick Cheney, John Ashcroft and Trent Lott and even ancillary dudes like the most heinous pundit Bill O'Reilly and his sidekick Michelle Malkin. She writes probably the worst column in the USA. She tries to tie in huge flare-ups, like Lott's moronic comments, to things that have absolutely nothing to do with it: the behavior of some dim-witted college students at Ole Miss. In a round-about way, I believe, she'd have us think that the actions of a few dumb black college kids, should take the heat off of Trent Lott. Why? I'm writing this, in lieu of my normal predictions this week, because I'm all worked up. Not because I am liberal or conservative, though I do find it hilarious that every time the Republicans have a major coup: November's elections, anyone? They find a way to piss it all away all by themselves: Lott's big mouth. Talk about getting the fucking limo for prom and driving it right into the lake. Oh, and speaking of lakes, whatever happened to the WHITE mother who drove her kids into the lake, killed 'em and tried to blame it on a black guy? That's such an anomaly isn't it? It's soooo rare in the history of our country that a minority would be accused of a crime a white person committed. People of all colors are probably jumping for joy that Trent Lott praised Strom Thurmond, for his years of dedication to building a positive racial dialogue in this country. And since things are perfect in America, it is now time to bomb Iraq. They're trying to ruin it for us. Don't you see how it all ties together in a neat package? If Saddam remains in power, I will not be able to enjoy the NFL playoffs. Anyway, to get back to the real issue at hand, I was going to write about these gentlemen, and even Osama bin Laden, and imagine them all as young boys. Five years-old. Imagine Dick Cheney getting a new ball for Christmas and being fascinated by it, or having a little conductor's hat on and running a train, or sitting on a grandparent's lap and singing a carol. And just being pleased. That's what I try to think of. It mellows me out. I know at one point in time, these fellows played with tinker toys and weren't harmful to anyone—not even their moms. And, FYI, I know Osama didn't ever celebrate Crhistmas. But I am sure he had some toys and loved his mom and then went to school in London and got fucked over somehow and quit taking his meds, and then, combine that with the millions of dollars he has, and a bunch of other weird familial vendettas between his family and the Bush family and you see how it all adds up. He's a jackass and I'm in no way rooting for him by criticizing my own fricken country. And second-to-lastly, have you ever watched Kudlow and Cramer on MSNBC? I was stuck at a bar Monday night watching those guys with the sound off. I would beg the producers of the show to do just that. Take a long look. Those guys are assholes. Who could sit through that, especially at dinner time? Jesus. The motto of the show should be: Both Bald. Both Assholes. And lastly, nothing to do with football or politics, but isn't it time for Elton John to fucking retire? Quit. Stop trying to align yourself with young musicians. Your relevance is over. Tim McGraw's cover of "Tiny Dancer" should be the final nail in the coffin. Miami at Minnesota—Minnesota
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