Super Bowl Homeboy

It’s that time of the year, NFL…..

So here we are. The Vikes have played eleven forgettable games. The Gophers have played twelve. The Timberwolves have played as many times as the Star Tribune tells me they have, because I don’t think I or any other person I would ever even think about speaking to could tell me anything else notable about the team. Essentially, if it weren’t for the Wild, I’d have had twice as much to drink tonight as I already have.

Seeing as how I don’t have any television — making it impossible to catch the outstandingly mediocre hijinks of the manslaughter-inducing cast of Two and a Half Men — the Vikenasties have instead become my very own Two and a Half. Just as millions of idiots tune in to watch that garbage, I - with no better explanation - have wasted hours upon hours on Chilly’s trash.

Somehow I compose myself every Sunday, shower, drink enough coffee to triple Colombia’s legal GDP, and walk a mile-and-a-half to a sports bar so I can sit alone in a crowd of Giants, Redskins, Bills, Broncos (???) and a sprinkle of Panthers and Bears fans as the Vikings inevitably take it to the last possession wherein the odds dictate they will either (A) turn the ball over attempting to come back [50% odds], (B) rely on a pass interference call or a missed field goal by the other team to squeak out a victory [30% odds], or (C) actually come back of their own skill [I hesitantly say 20%]. When the best part of your Sunday is the fifteen minutes it takes you to eat your chicken fingers, text your friends since there’s no one stupid enough to be sitting with you on a precious day off of work, and decide how long until you place your nachos order…well, then you should probably reevaluate things.

Somehow though, someone beyond Winfield + AP managed to deliver on the one Sunday this year in which I’ve failed to watch the game. Instead, this past Sunday I bet $50 on the Vikes money line and sat at my friend’s house watching only the Red Zone channel (I parlayed it with the Ravens), wherein I saw a fair bit of Vikings but certainly not the extent of the kick ass offense that keeps me throttled to the point of crapping myself for an average of 194 minutes per week.

Perhaps this shake up is the beginning of a new dawn — a turtle-head peering out from its shell of mediocrity amid an NFL landscape ripe for the false hope of football immortality. In other words, a December to remember before a January that’s over before it starts! COUNT ME IN. What else is there to live for until inauguration day besides the usual criminal pardons and shady midnight regulations and the worst Oscar season since Titanic ruined the entire year of 1997. The only redeemable thing about that three-hour ordeal was the Uno’s personal pan pizza I ordered halfway through it, but not the pizza itself - just the time it took to get it.

So gather ye faithful, Vikes fans. The electric speed train that can’t make good on its loans is getting a stimulus in the form of Kyle Orton’s beard hairs eaten off his skin by a rabid Jared Allen.

And Super Bowl Homeboy will be there in full force for its 2nd Annual Vikes Tailgate to get the party started.

ROCK N’ ROLL IS ALIVE…..AND IT LIVES IN MINNEAPOLIS…

Rock and Roll is Alive — Prince

Check out the rad starter jacket…

Bring your cleats to the streets of Chicago for the first annual SBHB summit.

Topics this Halloween include: The inevitable fall of Nordy, who the VIkings can draft to lead them in 2009, whether Franchise and K-Love will lead the Wolves to 30 or even 31 wins this season, and how Pasadena Brew sizes up to some of the second-year coaching greats in Big Ten footbal history.

Oh, and bring your mustache

Super Bowl Pasadena Homeboy does not endorse politicians, but no matter what happens next Tuesday, it will mark a new day in America — and usher in some sunshine to the dark nights that have blanketed our nation. It is no coincidence that Brad Childress is at the helm for the largest breakdown in free-market capitalism since the age of Murderers Row.

Think about it. The country Brad Childress placed the keys to shiny new houses a National League Football team in the hands of a party in no way qualified to handle it — those with shitty credit Tarvaris Jackson. Meanwhile, greedy sons of bitches Childress mortgaged OUR future by peddling the false of hope of mortgage-backed securities a deep playoff run reliant on the oh so reliable foundation of subprime loans the least kick-ass offense in the history of football.

Ok, enough of that. Between the Vikings debacle and the apparent secret handshake between Gardy and Bradstache to apply the kick-ass offense for one night at US Cellular about a month ago, times have been tough for Minnesota sports fans. And of course, the Homeboy hood was shaken by the news that one of the few sports personalities in the state respected by SBHB ran into some personal demons that led to his departure from KFAN. Times are rough.

But oooooh oooh child the night is darkest just before the dawn.

WHY?

BOOM. Pasadena Brew has been crafting up his finest Oktoberfest for the Gopher Nation. Pasadena Homeboy realizes that the Rose Bowl relies on some unlikely bounces such as a win in Madison and a Buckeye loss at Champaign, but watch out because Pasadena Brew is capable of nearly any feat. Pasadena Brew will lower the world’s CO2 levels to 350 parts per billion, will eliminate our dependency on foreign oil while simultaneously ending the recession by creating industries that don’t yet exist while also solving the massive logjam in our nation’s highway funding by scrapping the gas tax in place of high speed bullet trains — ALL TO PASADENA. Pasadena Brew will hold a summit the day before the Rose Bowl in which he welcome the new President and the heads of state of Iran, Iraq, Afghanistan, Russia, Georgia, North and South Korea, Venezuela, Zimbabwe, Sudan, China and Canada (just to make Canadians feel good about themselves) and will single-handedly solve world peace by unleashing the transcendent beauty of his 38-3 win over USC.

Pasadena Brew is not of us, but he walks amongst us. I would recommend taking whatever scraps are left in between your mattress - and the faux box of Parliaments you keep on your dresser to fool mattress robbers in these harsh times - and double it all down on Pasadena Brew and the Pasadena over against the Wildcats of Northwestern this Saturday.

Homecoming indeed.

Meanwhile, Nordy lost the first game of his life tonight to the team whose name still does not exist. However, due to Nordys not being present at said loss, researchers are still determining whether Nordy’s invincibility is still in tact.

Homeboy fave Justin Gaard is increasingly rockin’ the airwaves with his svelte positive vibe.

AND HEY!! FRANCHISE JEFFERSON AND THE PUPS ARE COMIN OUT!

It has been 24 hours since I held my Twins vigil.  Yes it took me this long to throw away my Twin’s 2008 schedule, I’m not sure what made me clutch this piece of paper for so long.  Perhaps the fact that my morphine dealer left town and I have nothing left to dull the pain, maybe I know that it will be 6 months until a winning Minnesota product hits the field.  Perhaps it was the fear of having the Kick Ass Offense being too explosive for my wiener to handle for the next 10 weeks.  Perhaps it was the fact that I was still holding out hope that the entire White Sox team was on HGH and their AL Central title would be stripped…whatever it was I am now left plodding through 10 weeks of Viking football. 

If you scroll through this page you will observe several comments from yours truly drinking the chilly kool-aid out of my 1998 Cris Carter Thermos.  Hell, six weeks ago if Chilly asked me to take a bubble bath with him I probably would have hopped in and scrubbed that bastard clean.  Today is not six weeks ago, I have wasted approximately 24 hours of my life watching this season (not to mention the countless hours I have spent over this millennium watching this team sputter season after season) and I would rather have a steamy terd resting on my chest than continue to watch this crap.  Maybe I am a masochist though, maybe this is my version of “cutting” maybe I am not happy unless I feel pain.  Well Chilly, I hope your time here was fun for you, I hope all the back slapping and hand shaking made you feel special.  Because no matter what happens this season, you and the KAO need to head back to the scrap heap with the other dirty diapers.  By the way, if you want some real heart break TIVO America’s Game: The Lost Ring about the 1998 Vikings.  It’s about as fun as getting a blood transfusion before 1983, except you know the outcome to this.

and it can’t come soon enough.  Kiss me franky. 

Up until last night and around 10 PM central I was a virgin.   I finally felt the delicious, suculant passion that is a young mans first time.   I’m not talking about a sexual conquest, what do you think I’m some kind of pussy who can’t get laid?  No I’m talking about the first time that a Minnesota team had its back against the wall and as Bill Pullman said during his oscar worthy speech to the American fighter pilots in the final moments of the movie Independence Day:

“We will not go quietly into the night!

We will not vanish without a fight!

We’re going to live on!

We’re going to survive!”

Today, we celebrate our Independence Day!”

 Truer words have never been spoken Bill, or as I call him…. Mr. President.  Finally a minnesota team stood up to the corupt city of Chicago, spit in their face put their middle finger in the air and said have fun sitting at home hooking up with all those ugly chicago broads all winter.  I feel a sense of pride today, I also feel a sense of a hang over after downing shots of tequila and spitting fire in White Sox fans faces all over the city last night.   Today is a day of celebration, jubilation, and to remind White Sox fans they are still the MLB version of the disgusting ginger cousin that no one wants around, the one that looks forward to family functions because its the only social setting he won’t get stuffed in a locker….you know what I’m talking about.  Lets party Minnesota, tomorrow is a new day…a day of Pasadena Brew…..

ANDY

CHIEEEEEEEFFFFFSSSS -3.5 over raiders

titans +1 over BENGALS

VIKES +1.5 over losers

saints -1.5 over REDSKINS

green bay -3 over LIONS

PANTHERS -3 over beards

giants -8.5 over RAMS

bills +4 over JAG

falcons +7 over BUCS

49ers +6.5 over SEAHAWKS

dolphins +6.5 over CARDS

chargers +1 over BRONCOS

pats pickem over JETS

steelers -6.5 over BRWONS

eagles +6.5 over COWBOYS

MATT

CHIEEEEEEEFS over Raiders

TITANIUM STEEL over Bengalis

SKKOOOOL VIKES over Colts

REDSCANS over St. New Orleans

Packers over LYINNNNS

PANTHERS. beat. Beeeaaars

Giant Bonesaw over RAMMMMS

JAG over Buffalo Billiards

TAMPA TWO over Falcone

SEAHAWKS over 9ers

Dolphins over CARDS

J.E.T.S. over Patagonias

DENVER FOOTBALL BRONCOS over whale’s vagina

BELIEVELAND over Pitt

COWBIZZ over Smeegles

Kanasas City -3.5 vs Oakland - Chhhhiiiiiieeeeeeeefffffffssssss!!!!!!!!!!!!

Cincinnati -1 at Tennessee - Bungals

Indianapolis -1.5 at Minnesota - VIKES!!!

New Orleans vs Washington Off - Saints

Green Bay -3 at Detroit - Packers

Carolina -3 vs Chichago - Pant-Dawgs

Giants -8.5 vs Rams - Giants

Buffalo +4.5 at Jacksonville - Lynch Mob and the crew

Atlanta +7 at Tampa - Turner the Burner and the Falcons (Editors Note: Last two picks made completely out of love for my fantasy players)

Seattle -6.5 vs San Fran - Seahawks

Arizona -6.5 vs Miami - Dolphins

New England +1 at NY Jets - Patriots

San Diego +1 at Denver - Chargers

Pittsburgh -6 at Cleveland - Brownies lose but cover