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DISGRASIAN OF THE YEAR! 10 People And/Or Things From ’10 We Hope Will Get Dick Cancer

January 7th, 2011 | 6 comments | Posted by Jen & Diana

[Ed. note--this post was written in advance of the tragic shooting that occurred on Saturday, Jan. 8 in Arizona. Our thoughts go out to those affected by those events.]

We talked a lot in the closing months of last year how 2010 was BALLS. And you know why it was balls? Because it was a year ruled by DICKS. Dickheads, dickweeds, dickwads, dicktwits, dickfaces, cheesedicks, needledicks, pencil dicks, limp dicks, and a various assortment of Dick Tracies, seemed to poke their, ahem, heads out from all sides. It was actually hard to come up with only 10 Dicks From ’10 because the year was so chock-full of cocksmokers. But somehow, after a little dicking around, we did.

And here they are, 2010′s Most Dickstinguished:


THE PALIN FAMILY

WHY THEY’RE DICKS: Everywhere we turned in 2010, there was another story about somebody named Palin being a dick. There was Todd Palin writing angry, poorly-punctuated emails. There was Willow Palin writing gay slur-slinging, poorly-punctuated Facebook comments. There was Bristol Palin being billed as a “teen activist” and dancing her way horribly to the Dancing With the Stars finals. And then there was Mama Grizzdick herself, Sarah Palin, who showed time and again that not only was she a dick, she was a Dick of All Trades–a refudiating dick, a 1st Amendment-confused dick, an Islamophobic dick, a book-shilling dick, a reality TV dick, a Tea Party dick, and, generally, an all-around fame-trolling dick of the highest magnitude. While it’s clear the Palins are gunning to be the First Family of the United States in 2012, for now, they can pat themselves on the backs for being, hands-down, the First Family of the United States of Dickbags.

OUR SOLUTION: The family of dicks that gets Dick Cancer together stays together. Another idea: JUST. GO. AWAY.

Continue reading DISGRASIAN OF THE YEAR! 10 People And/Or Things From ’10 We Hope Will Get Dick Cancer

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Cotton Candy, Sweet And Low, Reprzentasian In The Super Bowl!

January 25th, 2010 | 7 comments | Posted by Diana

THE SAINTS ARE FINALLY GOING TO THE SUPER BOWL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Keep your eyes on amazian linebacker Scott Fujita (aka “Asian Assassin”) when they do.

Damn


That’s not actually asking much. Last night, during the NFC Championship shootout/battle royale/best game of the season, it was hard to look at anything else. When Fujita wasn’t putting pressure on Brett Favre, he and Anthony Hargrove were tackling him hard.

Continue reading Cotton Candy, Sweet And Low, Reprzentasian In The Super Bowl!

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Who Dat Rootin’ For Dem Saints?

January 18th, 2010 | 4 comments | Posted by Diana

"I hate Brett Favre."

It was with heavy heart that I state the obvious: Jen’s and my teams are out of the running for this year’s Super Bowl ring (my freakin’ Steelers, defending champions, didn’t even make it to the postseason).

I can’t speak for my illustrious writing partner, but this year I find myself (for the first time in my life) hoping that an NFC team takes home the big prize (Dear lawd, do not let Continue reading Who Dat Rootin’ For Dem Saints?

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SPORTS ILLUSTRASIAN: Weak 3 Of The NFL Regular Season

September 29th, 2009 | 0 comments | Posted by Diana

NFL’s Week 3… oh, what a week. Did y’all see what we did?

Amazian blasian Hines Ward hit a major milestone Sunday afternoon during my Steelers’ away effort against the Cincinnati Bengals–he became the first black-and-gold-bleeder to surpass 10,000 receiving yards (further solidifying a future bid for the Hall Of Fame). Huzzah!

Sadly, the achievement was mired by Pittsburgh’s second 3-point loss in two weeks. To the BENGALS. Oy oy oy. Heal that knee, Polamalu, Heal! Our D needs you, baby!

But hey, it wasn’t all bad. Before MNF’s kickoff last night, Jen wondered aloud who the biggest QB tool of the evening would be: her Cowboys’ Tony Romo or the Panthers’ Jake Delhomme. Turns out, Delhomme served up more turnovers than a European bakery–perhaps suggesting what job he might actually do well at when he gets booted from Carolina–and America’s team added one in the win column. Phew.

Frankly, the Cowboys needed a home win like that, especially one on Monday’s snazzy nationwide stage. It was heartbreaking to watch them christen the new $1.5 billion dollar stadium in last week’s shameful loss to the Giants, particularly because Romo’s dorky disappointment was super-sized and crystal clear on that beautiful new Jumbotron.

But back to Sunday. I was pleasantly surprised to discover that perennial grouch/sweatponcho pioneer Bill Belichick might be considering a career change: WILL HE OR WON’T HE–join the Misfits, that is?

Just assessing the evidence being placed before our eyes. Mark my words, guys. Belichick is a punk.

And speaking of punks, can somebody please drive up to Buffalo to knock some sense into Terrell Owens? How can an avid Twitterer and star of a trashy VH1 reality show have the gall to lash out at “the media?” Is he not constantly serving himself up on a roasting dish for public consumption? Does he not understand what medium affords him the luxury of being known worldwide as “T.O.?” Aw hell no.

If only Owens could simply suit up, catch the ball (unless he’s playing the Saints), and shut the fuck up, for just one season. I just want to shake the dude and scream: “Play, Terrell! Play well! Play with the team! That’s all you need to do, for crying out loud! And while you’re at it, stop blaming everyone else and find yourself a rad therapist to quiet those angry voices in your head!”

Sigh.

On the other hand, one man proved himself for the billionth time, with one last-second torpedo into the end zone, that he is worth the hype:

Brett “Don’t tell Me I’ve Still Got It Cuz I Already Know It, Biatch!” Favre. I don’t care that he’s a Viking. The dude is magic–yesterday, today, and tomorrow. He is everything that is great about football.

And the neon-green nightmare that is the Seahawks’ alternate uniform… is everything that is not great about football.


From the sportscaster desk, Howie Long called these “flat-out distracting.” I mean, wow–I am painfully embarassed for this team.

I’ve got a theory, though. The Seahawks are from Seattle: a place with clean air and beautiful cedar houses, where chanterelles grow a-plenty, delicious Kumamoto Oysters avail themselves as openly as slutty undergrads at USC, and–while wrapped in cuddly, North Face fleece–every ruddy-cheeked resident is at all times sipping on a perfect cup of coffee or a fine-tasting microbrew. Life is too good in the Pacific Northwest to warrant a winning football team. Awesome NFL teams were created to add awesomeness to an otherwise tough, shitpile existence (like living in Green Bay or Detroit). Seattle’s team doesn’t need to be awesome. And clearly, they don’t need to be suitably or subtly dressed, either.

Last but not least. Couldn’t help but notice that the Peyton Manning/Justin Timberlake Sony Ping Pong Commercial that aired during the Sunday games was not the “Mandarin” version hampered by their shoddy subtitles.

Are they listening to us? Or did they simply realize airing a commercial that’s actually funny yields great rewards?

Doesn’t matter. I just can’t wait for next week.

[Pittsburgh Post-Gazette: Steelers Notebook - Ward's Milestone Dampened By Loss]
[Dallas News: Romo Gives Panthers Nothing In Dallas Cowboys' 21-7 Win]
[ESPN: Owens Critical Of The Media]
[Seattle PI: So What Do You Think Of Seahawks In Green?]

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