NFL Picks, Week 6

I told myself at the beginning of the season that I was going to ween myself off of football games that didn’t involve the Patriots. The general idiocy of the league in terms of both how it’s run and how most teams approach the game really pissed me off. Most Sundays it seems like no one in the NFL outside of New England is actually using their heads. Given how smart the NBA and Major League Baseball have become about pretty much everything, that’s super frustrating.

But you know what I realized? I love crapping on that stupidity so much that I just couldn’t give it up. Sure, football’s a fun game, but the idiots involved in the NFL are just so much more amazing than the on-field product. The league just wouldn’t be the same without all of its dopes. Plus, the newly increased distance in the PAT has lead to several misses and fucked up points after are kind of my jam. More of that, please.

And so, in my quest to blog more often, I’ve landed on the most obvious weekly entry of them all: a weekly picks column that gives me the opportunity to crap all over the league. Enjoy.

Falcons over Saints – Poor Drew Brees. Poor Sean Payton. It’s sad to see one of the only teams in the league I thought had two brain cells to rub together falling apart because of cap issues and shitty drafting. Oh well.

Jets over Redskins – We’re well overdue for a classic Ryan Fitzpatrick bed shitting, but this isn’t the week for it.

Cardinals over Steelers – I don’t believe in the Cardinals. I don’t believe in the Steelers. I don’t believe Todd Chrisley is a real person. Whatevs.

Vikings over Chiefs – I used to sort of believe in both Alex Smith and Teddy Bridgewater. Now I know better. This one’s got baseball score written all over it.

Bills over Bengals – There is no fucking way I’m picking Andy Dalton over a competent Rex Ryan team. That’d be like picking plain toilet water over blue toilet water. You know why the Red Rifle hasn’t been in any DirectTV commercials? Because there is no possible version of Andy Dalton that doesn’t have cable.

Lions over Bears – There’s no way Detroit goes 0-16 again, right? Do they really miss Ndamukong Suh that much? Is Jim Caldwell awake? Is this season all screwed up because Starscream accidentally replaced the wrong Megatron in his latest attempt to takeover leadership of the Decepticons?

Broncos over Browns – Blah. Someone should invent a DVR that filters out Peyton Manning commercials.

Jaguars over Texans – I’m pretty sure Bill Belichick keeps some secret coaching mojo hidden from all his subordinates so they can’t haunt him when they get head coaching jobs of their own. How else do you explain Eric Mangini, Romeo Crennel, Charlie Weis, and now the shit show brewing under the watchful eye of the Texans’ Bill O’Brien? It’s amazing.

Titans over Dolphins – Miami’s hilarious. I mean, were they watching the last ten years of Redskins’ football? You can’t buy a good team; you find a smart coach, build from within, fortify your lines first, scour the bargain bin for solid contributors, and invest in youth. It’s not that hard.

Seahawks over Panthers – Fuck Pete Carroll.

Packers over Chargers – I didn’t really like Olivia Munn until she started dating Aaron Rodgers. I always thought she played a little too hard to her nerdy loser base and came off way too self-satisfied about it. Now? She’s alright.

Ravens over 49ers – I used to write a weekly NFL picks column. You know what eventually made me stop? Trying to think up something to say about games like this one. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find something fun to write about a matchup between a pair of 1-4 teams that aren’t thinking about shit canning their coaches or demoting their starting quarterbacks? Try it sometime. You’ll probably crank out a paragraph just as crappy as this one.

Patriots over Colts – This is the only thing this week I’m going to enjoy more than Sasha Banks knocking Brie Bella off the announce table on Raw. Brady’s going to hang 80 on the Colts out of spite. I can’t wait.

Giants over Eagles – Don’t let Eli Manning and his pals fool you: the Giants aren’t good again. They’re just slightly less of a disaster than the rest of their division.

How to make Boston a world class city

Since the introduction of the failed Olympic bid, there’s been a ton of talk about transforming Boston into a world class city. No one can give me an actual definition of what that really means, but most people insist it involves improvements to our transportation infrastructure and replacing every single fun or useful thing with an overpriced plastic condo building or a generic classy restaurant that serves twelve dollar cocktails you could fit in a Dixie cup with room to spare. Although that transportation stuff would be nice, the second part of that run-on sentence can kiss my hairy white ass. You want to make Boston a world class city? Here’s how you do it, bro.

  • Every bar should have coat hooks installed underneath it. If I’m sitting on my coat or hanging it up in some back hallway on top of a disease-infested stranger’s, you’re doing it wrong.
  • I have it on good authority that Boston’s mosh pits “fucking suck,” especially those in the House of Blues. Upgrade the pits, please. We cannot allow places like Worcester and Springfield to lap us in the punk rock demographic. The effect would be catastrophic.
  • Two words: Happy Hour. Let’s get some cheap beverages up in this shit. It’ll help with both community building and the local birth rate. It’ll be great.
  • Preserve Route 1 in Saugus as an historic landmark that can never be changed. For real. We need a giant orange dinosaur a lot more than we need luxury condos. Besides, living in luxury on Route 1 is impossible because it would violate at least 18 well-established laws of physics and another seven that I just made up. The Hilltop Steakhouse should not be a hole in the ground. Weylu’s should still be smiling down at passing motorists from its majestic perch. And I swear to the Force if anything ever happens to the Kowloon there’s going to be a fucking problem. John Cena needs somewhere to eat chicken fingers after Raw at the Garden.
  • Require two-ply in all bathrooms. I don’t know the exact number of people who visit Boston and never return after wiping their sensitive bits with the sandpaper installed in most restrooms, but I’m sure that number isn’t zero. You can’t be world class if you make your guests’ bungholes itch.
  • Get the Bruins some defensemen. For real. This is probably the most embarrassing part of the city now that the Red Sox are done.
  • Build a fence around Rhode Island. Like, a really big one. And electrify it. Treat that dump like a velociraptor pen.
  • After the fence is built, round up all the people who think Boston isn’t a world class city and deport them to Rhode Island. We’ll all be much better off without those tools. And no, terrible bloggers who ironically used the world class thing as an excuse to write a half-assed post should not be included in the list of deportees.

The Quarterback Douche/Dork Rankings

All NFL quarterbacks fall into one of two categories: they’re either dorks or douches. There are no exceptions to this rule. It’s an immutable physical law of the universe forged in the roiling quantum mechanical heat of the Big Bang itself. Scientists working at the Large Hadron Collider have confirmed it.

Here. I’ll list them out, from least dorky to most dorky and then least douchy to most douchy. Enjoy.


Brian Hoyer, HOU – Dude just looks like a giant pile of dad jokes.

Drew Brees, NO – Named Drew. Likes scally caps and Wrangler jeans.

Marcus Mariota, TEN – I can’t find anything even remotely interesting about this guy. You know what that means! He secretly makes sculptures of Franklin D. Roosevelt out of chocolate pudding and keeps a scrapbook of every trip he’s ever made to Burger King. It’s coming. Get ready.

Ryan Tannehill, MIA – Wears a cartoon fish on his head. What? Right. A cartoon aquatic mammal. SORRY.

Sam Bradford, PHI – Wikipedia says he’s 1/16th Cherokee. I’m pretty sure he’s at least a quarter muppet.

Tony Romo, DAL – All I’m saying is Artsy Craftsy Tony Romo came across a little too natural. And I’d like a crownie, please.

Kirk Cousins, WAS – On the one hand, Cousins did not immediately demand a trade upon being drafted by the Redskins. This suggests he’s a douche. On the other hand…there’s his choice of wheels, which immediately closes the argument.

Aaron Rodgers, GB – Few things are dorkier than a discount double-check. Prior to becoming one of the Packers’ captains himself, Rodgers photobombed every pre-game team captains’ photo. He also dates a woman who used to work for G4.

Ryan Fitzpatrick, NYJ – Harvard grad. Lush beard. Smug smile. You know this guy’s got at least eleven cats and he loves the shit out of every single one of them.

Blake Bortles, JAX – Christ, that name. “Blake Bortles” sounds like one of Clark Kent’s coworkers from the 50s who eventually turned on Superman when Lex Luthor gave him the powers of a bumblebee.

Nick Foles, STL – I mean, just look at this guy. I bet girls still kick him in the shin on the playground.

Andrew Luck, IND – Compliments his opponents as a means of trash-talking. Makes reference to Lord of the Rings when calling dummy audibles at the line. Has a family of eighteen gnomes living in his shitty beard.

Andy Dalton, CIN – Ginger. No soul. Got booed out of MLB’s celebrity softball game by his hometown crowd. Sucks.

Eli Manning, NYG – Bad Comedian Eli Manning isn’t an act. His full name is Elisha. He loves karaoke. And no one is better at making the “aww gee willickers I didn’t get what I wanted for Christmas!” face after throwing a stupid pick.


Alex Smith, KC – Hasn’t thrown a touchdown to a wide receiver in 17 games as of the end of the 2015 season’s first week. What a jerk.

Derek Carr, OAK – Quarterback of the Oakland Raiders. Nuff said.

Matthew Stafford, DET – Nothing says “let’s get a funnel and rock out to some Nickelback” better than a Stafford headshot. What? That’s not really his hairline? Don’t care.

Matt Ryan, ATL – “Matty Ice” sounds way too much like a cheap beer enjoyed in massive quantities at a fraternity none of the sororities let their members talk to.

Tyrod Taylor, BUF – Exhibit A:

Tom Brady, NE – I love ya, Tommy, but ditch the Uggz. Hopefully when he finally retires from football he’ll find a second career as a judge on America’s Next Top Model.

Josh McCown, CLE – Backup quarterback Johnny Manziel is such a douche that his mere presence turns the dorky McCown into a giant feminine hygiene product.

Joe Flacco, BAL – More concerned with being elite than your average basement dwelling, neck-bearded World of Warcraft player.

Teddy Bridgewater, MIN – Prefers the Undertaker to Brock Lesnar. Proof:

Russell Wilson, SEA – Doesn’t punch Pete Carroll in the face whenever he sees him. Has claimed that drinking shitty sports water (of which he’s a part owner) both heals head injuries and prevents concussions. Puts up with that Seattle Twelfth Man bullshit.

Carson Palmer, ARZ – Graduate of USC. Threatened to retire from the league in an attempt to escape the Bengals, which caused Cincinnati to draft uber goober Andy Dalton. That’s right, Ohio: the Red Reject is this guy’s fault.

Philip Rivers, SD – Best stink eye in the league. That look of derision Rivers unleashes upon everyone else on the field belongs in the Hall of Fame all on its own.

Peyton Manning, DEN – Anyone who owns a Papa Johns is a douche. Peyton’s invested in 21 of the bastards.

Cam Newton, CAR – You ain’t Superman, bro.

Jameis Winston, TB – Crab leg theft is a common gateway to a life of crime. Played college football in Florida, which is a sure sign he’s hiding something somewhere. My guess is he’s got freezers full of illicit shellfish spread all across the Everglades.

Colin Kaepernick, SF – Shills Beats headphones, the douchiest product in the known universe.

Ben Roethlisberger, PIT – Please don’t make me explain this one to you.

Jay Cutler, CHI – What a douche.

2015 NFL Preview: NFC and Playoffs

I’m so tired of football already that I’m not even going to bother doing individual division posts for the NFC. I’ve only got so many ways to write “this team sucks” and I don’t want to repeat myself like some hack. I’m taking the easy way out. These are the playoff teams. Everybody not on this list is trash.

1. Seattle
2. Dallas
3. Green Bay
4. Atlanta
5. Philadelphia
6. St. Louis

Actually, the fourth and sixth seeds might also be trash. We’ll see. Looks like it’ll take about six wins to take the South.

Anyway. Onto the Superbowl! New England over Seattle again. No other team in the league is on their level, and it ain’t even close.

2015 NFL Preview: AFC West

Just when you thought the AFC couldn’t get any worse, here comes the west!

1. Kansas City Chiefs – Solid everywhere. Jamaal Charles is a stud, Alex Smith won’t kill you, and Jeremy Maclin’s excelled in Andy Reid’s offense before.  Smells like an ugly 10-6.
Booze Equivalency Index – Jim Beam and Coke. No Jack Daniels? Eh, that’ll do.

2. San Diego Chargers (wildcard) – You were expecting someone else? Like Kansas City, San Diego’s just ok everywhere. In the AFC, that’s good enough.
Booze Equivalency Index – Sam Adams. Ok.

3. Denver Broncos – Pretty sure I can throw the ball with more force than Peyton Manning these days. That defensive front is frightening, but let’s be serious for a second…are we really supposed to trust a Gary Kubiak team with a patchwork line and a noodle-armed quarterback? Really?
Booze Equivalency Index – A kamikaze shot. Fuckin’ weak.

4. Oakland Raiders – Unlike the rest of the league’s collection of perennial shitbags, the Raiders have hope. Since the death of former owner Al Davis, they’ve avoided the sort of terrible decision making that put them here in the first place.  Jack Del Rio will have his boys ready to play every week. Derek Carr might be a serviceable quarterback. Amari Cooper could be a star at receiver. They’ll still be  a shitbag this year, but they’re a shitbag that could one day transform into a beautiful butterfly. Plus, the combined age of the starting quarterbacks in the rest of the division is 103. The Raiders’ peak could correspond quite nicely with the decline of their immediate competition.
Booze Equivalency Index – Home brew mixed up yesterday. Might be good when it’s done. Might also end up tasting like soap.


2015 NFL Preview: AFC South


1. Indianapolis Colts – In theory, I like the Frank Gore and Andre Johnson signings. These are exactly the kind of rugged veterans a team on the cusp of something big needs to get itself over the hump. That said…the Colts were more than a back and a receiver away. That defense is still a mess, and Andrew Luck doesn’t have nearly enough solid targets to throw to. They’ll run away with the division and probably win a playoff game, but that’s their ceiling for now.
Booze Equivalency Index – Dogfish Head 30 Minute. Good enough, but I’m looking further down the draft list for something a little more interesting.

2. Houston Texans – On the one hand, I really like Bill O’Brien and I think Jadaveon Clowney will team with JJ Watt to scare the shit out of the league’s precious quarterbacks. On the other hand…no one is scared of the Texans’ own passers. Hoyer? Mallett? Please. And who are they throwing to? Oh. Right. The other team and the grass.
Booze Equivalency Index – Kentucky Bourbon Barrel Ale. Kind of fun, but once is enough.

3. Jacksonville Jaguars – Feels like a make or break year for Blake Bortles, doesn’t it? He put together a few nice games, but his total numbers were not good. Maybe he’s crap. Maybe he’s just got nothing to work with. Hint: it’s both.
Booze Equivalency Index – Bud Light.

4. Tennessee Titans – Personally, I had Mariota over Winston. Too bad the poor guy’s on a team of total zeroes. How do you even write anything about this team? For real. I quit.
Booze Equivalency Index – Beefeater gin in spoiled chocolate milk.

2015 NFL Preview: AFC North

Have I mentioned that the AFC is garbage again? The AFC is garbage again. At the risk of sounding like those dumb homers, I hate so much…I mean seriously, there isn’t a team in the conference that can touch the Patriots without the help of some serious injury voodoo. Even that may not be enough.

That said, whoever wins this division probably has the best shot. Yes, I know the Broncos and Colts aren’t part of the AFC North. Don’t even try to sell me on the Broncos or the Colts. You beat the Patriots by punching them in the mouth and knocking them on their ass. That’s what the North is all about. Denver and Indy? Couple of slappy fighters. Don’t even.

1. Baltimore Ravens – This is not an endorsement of Flacco’s crew so much as it’s a melodramatic eye roll at their competition. The defense and the coaching are both rock solid in Baltimore, but they just don’t have enough weapons on offense to really sell me on what they’re doing. Running back Justin Forsett’s the most obvious one-year wonder since Brady Anderson. Fantasy football people tell me the Ravens have a new young receiver that’s “the next Torrey Smith.” Uh…Torrey Smith kind of sucked. Crap like this is why I’m starting to hate fantasy football.
Booze Equivalency Index – Jack and Coke. Good enough, especially if you aren’t careful with it.

2. Pittsburgh Steelers (wildcard) – No defense. No offensive line. No one to take the double team pressure off Antonio Brown. No one better than Deangelo Williams to fill in during Le’veon Bell’s suspension. Borderline elite quarterback who might be a cyborg. Sounds like a wildcard team!
Booze Equivalency Index – Wild Turkey. This is gonna hurt…but in an ok way.

3. Cincinnati Bengals – Andy Dalton.
Booze Equivalency Index – A mai tai without the rum.

4. Cleveland Browns – I mean…this one’s pretty automatic, right? Name a Cleveland Brown that isn’t Johnny Manziel. No, Jordan Cameron’s in Miami now. No, “that dude with the dreadlocks” is not good enough. Correct answer: stud left tackle Joe Thomas, the only player on this team that even remotely matters.
Booze Equivalency Index – Drano.

2015 NFL Preview: AFC East

So I’ve got a confession to make: I kind of hate that I’m still attached to football. Yeah, I know. That’s not popular. I’ve never been popular so I really don’t give a shit. The league in general seems to be getting dumber. The commissioner’s a buffoon. I swear half the coaches need several weeks of remedial Madden sessions on how to use timeouts and challenges. Recent rule changes–specifically those around kickoffs, illegal contact, and protecting the quarterback–are asinine. Most gameplans still revolve around strategic kicking even though statistics prove that’s usually the wrong play. The emphasis on the quarterback is ridiculous, and it should be obvious to anyone who actually pays attention to the game that it really comes down to what the lines do. Baseball and basketball, meanwhile, are getting smarter in both presentation and in-game strategy, and both MLB and the NBA feature leadership that’s interested in smart, legitimate improvements rather than reactionary bullshit. The NFL, as far as I’m concerned, is falling behind.

So why am I still watching? And why am I using it as an excuse to fire up the blog for the first time in [I’m too lazy to look this up]? Simple: the trash talk is fantastic. I can crap all over 95% of the league and it still amuses the shit out of me. Oh, you’re a fan of the Jets, Jaguars, or Raiders? HA HA HA HA HA! The mere mention of Andy Dalton sends me into an uncontrollable fit of mirth. For real. I might soil my knickers. Tell me all about those 3398 useless yards that terd threw for last year. TELL ME! Explain again how Ryan Tannehill’s about to join the list of the league’s elite quarterbacks. I WANT TO HEAR ALL ABOUT IT! Try to convince me Andy Reid can tell time. KEEP GOING, PLEASE! Tell me all about those sleeper wide receivers on shitty teams that are going to help you win your fantasy league. BRING IT ON!!!

So without further ado, I bring you my predictions for the AFC East, using my Booze Equivalency Index metric that’s really just an easy, stupid excuse for comparing the NFL’s legions of terrible teams to the world’s abundance of disgusting alcohol. Let’s get this first division over with.

1. New England Patriots – It doesn’t matter how many games Tom Brady plays. It doesn’t matter how much the Patriots were fined or how many draft picks they lost. You know what matters? The rest of the division is a tire fire, and the Pats are going to be pissed about the Deflategate circus. If you’ve ever wanted to see a team hang 80 on an opponent, check out that game against the Colts on October 18. The Pats are going to spend the season in F U mode and it’s going to be glorious.
Booze Equivalency Index – Bacardi 151 lit on fire and poured over every stupid dork you know.

2-4. The Rest – Who gives a shit?
Booze Equivalency Index – Dirty, lukewarm tap water scooped out of the toilet and served in a chipped glass by a chain-smoking waitress who’s pissed the jukebox hasn’t played her late 90s J.Lo songs.

Smell ya later, Boston Olympics

Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on your way out.

Boston’s long local nightmare is finally over. Faced with signing a guarantee to back the 2024 Olympic bid with public funds amid a rising tide of opposition (10 whole people on Twitter!), Mayor Marty Walsh finally put an end to this ill-conceived charade after months of buffoonish skullduggery. Thanks for finally doing the obvious, logical thing in an effort to save face, Yer Honor. Now cut the crap and get to work fixing our transportation infrastructure. Believe it or not, you can probably do that without selling the city out to a bunch of corrupt twat waffles for a few weeks. You can do it. I believe in you. Well, not you necessarily, but the power of your office. Sure, you’ll need a lot of help from the state, but that’s no excuse. Get cracking. Lead the charge.

As for the Olympics themselves, they are also in possession of crap in need of a solid cutting. Expecting a different city to invest billions of dollars in hosting this thing every four years is asinine. Pick one place for the summer games and another for the winter session and make those locations the best damn Olympic hosts they can be. What’s that? It’ll never happen because the International Olympics Committee exists solely as a front for a series of shady grafts and kickbacks to its members and their pals? Oh. Maybe that should stop, and maybe we should all stop supporting the games until it does. I’m pretty sure you’ll be ok if you don’t get to watch archery once every four years.

Of course, there is one thing about the bid’s failure we should all be very disappointed about: we’ll never get to see what sort of crazy ass mascot a Boston Olympics would have generated, and that’s a damn shame. Maybe they would’ve kept it simple and just thrown some rings and a swimsuit on Wally. Perhaps the designer would’ve attempted to embrace Boston’s heritage by tossing a tricorner hat on an anthropomorphic pile of baked beans and naming it Sully. Personally, I would’ve given the job to Spare Change Guy. The USOC’s insistence that the bid be backed by public money was basically “GOT ANY CHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANGE?” Jesus Guy would’ve been my second choice, because nothing says “Welcome to Boston, tourists!” quite like a dude with a sandwich board handing out soul-saving literature to hordes of sinners.

Lastly, mad props to No Boston Olympics, No Boston 2024, and any other grass roots groups out there I’m forgetting that led the charge against this chicanery. Good work, sirs and madams, and I hope you don’t let the momentum of your quality activism die with the bid. Boston’s got a lot of other problems such community-led initiatives could help solve. In fact, there’s a particular scourge I think you guys should take aim at next: Wally. Get that guy all the way outta here.