Joe Gibbs and the Ragu Festivale

"The thing I want to say to everybody (is that) it wasn't Patrick, it was me," Gibbs said of the QB change from Ramsey to Brunell last week.
What? It’s not you it’s me? I invented the it’s not you it’s me.

So Gibbsy installs Brunell who, as predicted, plays like the worst qb in NFL history for 3.88 quarters. But then all of Gibbs' numerous prayers must have been answered at once, as the Flying Spaghetti Monster reached his noodly appendage through the hole in the Texas Stadium roof and directed two TD’s into the hands of Santana Moss and the Skins beat the Boys for one of the most baffling but sweet victories in recent memory. They always said the hole in that stupid stadium was so that God could watch, I bet they didn't know the FSM was also watching.

Gibbs must have prayed extra hard once the California Courts banned the Pledge of Allegance. One Nation under the spaghetti monster with liberty and the Hall of Justice for all.

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In other sports news, Rock Star Joe recently pointed me to this money new sports blog from the Gawker family, which in turn points me to this high-larious gallery of Bronson Arroyo with some freshman girl who they describe as most definitely not his wife

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Someone must fight for the rights of beer pong

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Ok so this is one of those scary looters that all the stupid fuckers were soo worried about? A 73 year-old, diabetic, church-leading, grandmother, with some food in her car. Yes, throw her ass in jail immediately.

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Hope you enjoyed yesterday’s talk like a pirate day

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We all know that girls love Donkeys. But is the trend spreading to farmgirls nationwide. Dooonkies.

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First the Onion comes out with its razor parody and says “fuck everything we are doing 5 blades.” And then gillete turns parody into reality and actually does it.

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I watched "The Flight that Fought Back" last week, and when the passengers beat the crap out of the terrorists with a beverage cart, some boiling coffee pots, and a fire extinguisher it is a sweet victory.

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Fresh from guiding the skins to victory, the prophet of the noodly one grants an interview

"GM: When did you know you were the chosen Prophet for the great Flying Spaghetti Monster? Does He still speak to you?
BH: I had of course seen spaghetti several times throughout my life, but it wasn't until He revealed Himself to me and touched me with His Noodly Appendage that I knew I was Chosen. Does He still speak to me? If by that you mean "Do I hear voices in my head?" the answer is yes. Further evidence that He is near me abounds. I oftentimes find that I have made mistakes in my day-to-day activities. These, clearly, are the work of a mischievous Flying Spaghetti Monster, tampering with my work with His Noodly Appendage, purely for his own amusement."