Super Bowl Homeboy

So the Vikes got ya down? Is the 0-2 record, coming off the most winnable loss this pathetic franchise has seen since “THE CARDINALS HAVE KNOCKED THE VIKINGS OUT OF THE PLAYOFFS!!” making you rethink that authentic Chilly sideline sweatshirt equipped with reflector tape so you can be seen while riding your bike at night purchase? I had the same problem too, I hadn’t crapped since Sunday morning…an alarming sign of distress for a typically explosive toilet user. Instead of calling my mom and crying like I did when I got beat up by bullies while walking to econ 301 in college. I tried a new form of therapy and with it came the answer to all the purple problems.

I popped in Teen Wolf Wednesday to help find myself. There is always something about this true underdog story that is so relatable, underachieving kid wants to be cool and hook up with the hottest pus in town…finds out he is a werewolf, suddenly can dunk, score 50 point in a game and has the stamina of Peter North after taking 16 percosets. It’s like watching an episode of Ally McBeal except your friends won’t ridicule you if they catch you watching it. It was at the scene where Scott/Teen Wolf goes coast to coast and posterizes his arch enemy “Mick” from the rival “Dragons” while simultaneously creating a Noah’s Ark size flood in Pamela and Boofs under pants, when I realized something….The Vikings need to find a werewolf to take over at quarterback. I know Gus Ferrotte probably has the most chest hair per square inch in the NFL, and needs to shave twice a day but hair is not what makes the werewolf. I am sure the werewolf talents are not simply applied to basketball, after breaking down game film it appears the pure athleticism that comes with being a werewolf transcends sport, skirt chasing, even 80’s choreography…it applies to all aspects of life. Imagine, a 6’6 werewolf with a 4.1 40 time, a howitzer for an arm, who can read defenses, and create innovative new touchdown dances? Chilly has always fancied himself a student of the game, well maybe its time for him to become a pioneer of the game? What do ya say chilly? I’ve got Michael J Fox on speed dial, your move.

The Twins’ season is potentially over after an otherwise solid campaign from Joey Closer came to an abrupt hiccup in the Cleveland night as Nathan weinered a three-run walkoff to Victor Martinez. The White Sox, doing their best to keep the Twins in the race weeks after they deserved to be there, did win one against New York to take their lead to 2.5 games.

The Twins, who are the baseball version of that awful new Pacino/Deniro vehicle, seemingly had the divisional success gift-wrapped for them over the last month but simply could not find a way to make anything of it. Francisco Pacino and Joe Deniro being the catalysts for this loss (along with Fast Eddie), pretty much signals that we’re close to throwing in the cards. Maybe they will wake up. Who knows. I doubt it.

I blame the GOP. Host your convention in US Cellular next time.

Just as depressing is the thought of waiting all these years to see a decent ballpark only to have it named “Target Field” — conjuring up ghastly images of Kevin McHale’s graveyard just up the street. While SBHB will be delving into the naming rights debacle in the coming days, suffice it to say that the wealth of Minnesota-based businesses, leaves SBHB less than enthused with the decision to spread the suffering across local franchises.

In other news early this week, George W. Chilly is attempting to rewrite his potential slide toward lame-duck status by opening up the battle for the quarterback job.

Rumor is he lost his cell-phone charger and hasnt called in yet, but as soon as he drinks a couple, 13, 14 more brews and then sobers up, you know who plans on sneaking in Gate H for a tryout.

I don’t know what’s more sad. The fact that JG would want that last paragraph to be true, or that it wouldn’t be that drastc a downgrade from our current options. Again, SBHB will weigh in over the coming days on our prescription for Redecision 2008.

…let us plead.