Amici:
Happy Birthday Rigoletto ... the super doggie turned 8/56 Sunday, September 13, 2009. What a dog, amici. What a dog!
Spartacus refused to attend the birthday bash and was still sulking this morning when I left for work ... that is one spoiled mouse.
No Huddle, No Win … Going back to the Marv Levy era of losing Super Bowls (one after another after another after another), I was distraught the day the Bills introduced the vaunted “no huddle” offense ... not only was it a poor choice to switch offenses mid-season, it proved to be their undoing in the Super Bowl against the Moonachie Giants. Back then the Bills had arguably the best offensive line in the NFL and were known as a smash mouth offense (that could play in the NFC east). But flattering statistics, easy victories (like the one against the Raiderettes in the AFC Championship that year) and a coach that couldn’t say “no” brought a team destined for greatness to its knees.
The coaching clinic Parcells and cheaterface Belichik gave to Levy and his staff is the stuff nightmares are made of (for Bills fans). Even though Thurman Thomas ran for 135 yards on 13 carries (mostly because the Moonachie Giants were playing with two and/or three down lineman), the Bills continued to throw the ball and put their defense back on the field. Time of possession in that game was a lopsided 2:1 ratio; the Giants Hostetler watched the play clock run down and shortened the game even more so than the dopey Bills offense tried to. On a crucial fourth and 1 (on the drive immediately after the Bills had scored a safety), Kelly threw a pass to Andre Reed rather than hand it off or run it himself. The Bills turned the ball over and the Giants picked up the momentum. And with all the game clock mismanagement of that game, the Bills still should have won the game with a field goal, but the football Gods were out to punish the horrible coaching job that day (or was it the fact that some of the Bills were out drinking all night the night before the game?). Either way, the no huddle failed miserably in the only test that counts.
The Horror ... when my emotions run wild ... started again last night when once again I was sucked into the misery that has become watching my beloved New York State Buffalo Bills play a Monday night game against a much better team than they are, play way over their heads and in the end succumb from yet another horrible coaching job. While the Bills were helped along with some pretty awful refereeing (that last roughing the passer was sure a stinker), they also did their best to shoot themselves in the foot over and over with holding penalties, offensive off-sides, illegal formations, etc. And still they were outplaying the cheaterfaces from New England and maintaining a lead through most of the game.
The no huddle worked in the first quarter when the fat slobs on the cheaterface defensive line were sucking wind. But once the crowd noise became a factor (those prissy ass bastard fans probably assumed they’d win and wouldn’t have to cheer their team on before they found themselves losing), Edwards (Bills’ QB) was having to waste precious play clock time calling audible signals (giving the fat slobs on the cheaterface defensive line time to catch their breadth anyway) and it was pretty pointless (except for generating a few extra off-sides calls against the Bills).
The no huddle proved once again to be the dumbest possible choice against a team that excels on offense (so why not give the cheaterfaces the ball an extra 14+ minutes ... let Brady throw more passes than the Bills ran in total ... and keep our defense on the field twice as long)? Makes sense to most imbeciles, I'd have to imagine, so why not Dick Jauron? He's been an imbecile since he got to Buffalo. The offensive coordinator the Bills fired was the lucky one. Unfortunately us fans can't fire ourselves. We have to live through this shit over and over again. Four consecutive Super Bowl losses obviously wasn't enough to convince the masterminds in Buffalo that it doesn't work. When the Redskins went in and out of it during their Super Bowl victory over the Bills, it worked because they could go in and out of it (not live in it). Or maybe coach Gibbs was just fucking with Marv ...
I would've.
And lets hear it for coach imbecile's game clock management. WTF was that at the end of the game? Spend your last two time outs back to back with 40 seconds on the clock? Pure genius.
As for the kick return from hell ... well, you know what would happen if this were Knucks' team … the special teams coach would’ve been handed a compass and a flashlight and told to go park cars ... McKelvin (the fumbler) would’ve been on waivers before the flight home.
Coach imbecile's news conference quote: "I have no problem with him taking it out of the end zone." Of course not, you're a fucking IMBECILE!
Not to excuse the defensive coordinator who didn’t bother checking the tight end (with defensive ends too exhausted to pass rush anymore) both times cheaterface Watson went down the middle for a touchdown pass. Our DC would’ve been pushing the bus home.
And then there's Dave Zeltserman ... oy-vey, this guy from Beantown (i.e., Cheaterface Nation) is still crying over the spilled milk of 18-1 (Go Moonachie!). I was emailing him with up to the quarter updates all night and dreaded having to read his return mail this morning ... but true to the delusional form of most cheaterface nation fans, he thinks his team will win the Super Bowl this year.
Right ... the FBI will find White Bulger first.
Two years ago I had to go through this shit when the Bills gave away a win to the Cowgirls. Last night was the straw that broke the Knuckster’s back. We are the worst organization in any sport on any planet in any universe. Ralph Wilson is a breeder of nice guys. Marv Levy was a nice guy. I’m sure Dick Jauron is a nice guy. You know what? I hate nice guys. Nice guys don't win. Nice guys can't get it done. You want to fight a war with Alan fuckin' Alda, knock yourself out. Me, I'll take George Patton every time (and George HATED Sicilians). One can only hope that when the Bills are moved to the great country estate of Canada, somebody up there in fig leaf land has a fucking clue how to run a football operation.
Statistics are for losers and in the end the cheaterfaces from New England will no doubt run up a lot of points with their can’t run the ball offense again this year. They'll throw and be successful against the usual cast of crappy defenses, but in the end there is no way they get past defenses like those in Maryland, Tennessee or Pennsylvania. And if the Bills can run them over like that, foregetaboutit ... Brady and his bunch will need to score on every possession.
Final thought on last night … what a gip, man. What a fuckin' gip.
Kanye West ... what a jerkoff. I remember when he stopped me from donating to the Katrina relief fund. I never understood WTF his "talent" is supposed to be. Aside from leaving Mike Myers looking like he'd been tazed, this Kanye putz seems to take pride in being an asshole.
When not rapping, the genius speaks like this: “Yeah, you know, obviously, you know, I deal with hurt and, you know, so many, you know, celebrities, they never take the time off, and I've never taken the time off to really, you know, I just, music after music and tour after tour on tour, and I'm just ashamed that my hurt caused someone else's hurt."
You know ... like a moron.
—Knucks
And then there's Dave Zeltserman ... oy-vey, this guy from Beantown (i.e., Cheaterface Nation) is still crying over the spilled milk of 18-1 (Go Moonachie!). I was emailing him with up to the quarter updates all night and dreaded having to read his return mail this morning ... but true to the delusional form of most cheaterface nation fans, he thinks his team will win the Super Bowl this year.
Right ... the FBI will find White Bulger first.
Two years ago I had to go through this shit when the Bills gave away a win to the Cowgirls. Last night was the straw that broke the Knuckster’s back. We are the worst organization in any sport on any planet in any universe. Ralph Wilson is a breeder of nice guys. Marv Levy was a nice guy. I’m sure Dick Jauron is a nice guy. You know what? I hate nice guys. Nice guys don't win. Nice guys can't get it done. You want to fight a war with Alan fuckin' Alda, knock yourself out. Me, I'll take George Patton every time (and George HATED Sicilians). One can only hope that when the Bills are moved to the great country estate of Canada, somebody up there in fig leaf land has a fucking clue how to run a football operation.
Statistics are for losers and in the end the cheaterfaces from New England will no doubt run up a lot of points with their can’t run the ball offense again this year. They'll throw and be successful against the usual cast of crappy defenses, but in the end there is no way they get past defenses like those in Maryland, Tennessee or Pennsylvania. And if the Bills can run them over like that, foregetaboutit ... Brady and his bunch will need to score on every possession.
Final thought on last night … what a gip, man. What a fuckin' gip.
Kanye West ... what a jerkoff. I remember when he stopped me from donating to the Katrina relief fund. I never understood WTF his "talent" is supposed to be. Aside from leaving Mike Myers looking like he'd been tazed, this Kanye putz seems to take pride in being an asshole.
When not rapping, the genius speaks like this: “Yeah, you know, obviously, you know, I deal with hurt and, you know, so many, you know, celebrities, they never take the time off, and I've never taken the time off to really, you know, I just, music after music and tour after tour on tour, and I'm just ashamed that my hurt caused someone else's hurt."
You know ... like a moron.
—Knucks
And the DOC says ...
Sure enough, Chaz, I looked up "self-centered bastard" on Wikipedia and there was indeed a picture of you.
Iran almost has a nuke, swine flu is sweeping the globe, we have a president who can't figure out why there is a desk in the oval office when a foos-ball table would take up the same space and you want us all to spend our time celebrating the birth of your drug addicted mutt or lamenting the all too familiar thrashing of your beloved Buffalo Bills. I won't even go into Kanye West because you probably first heard of him 2 days ago.
Here are some possible suggestions to relieve your malaise.
Tie a piece of poisoned cheese from the furball's collar. Spartacus takes care of problem #1 (furball)... poisoned cheese takes care of problem #2 (Spartacus).
Tatoo a circle around that ridiculous buffalo tatoo and convince the curious that you are a staunch devotee' of the nickel.
We will deal with Acorn's tax advice for the up and coming cat-house owners in the coming weeks. As everyone knows, most brothels go bankrupt in the first 6 months... sorry, that was restaurants. As a matter of fact, the only brothel to ever go bankrupt was the Bunny Ranch in Nevada, shortly after the government took it over.
Take care, Buckeroo
Doc
PS: If you are looking for something to worry about, the temperature in my pool today was 67 degrees.
I'm afraid that it might be time to go back to work... YIKES!
