The river runs red and I think I’m Baaaaaaaaggginnnnnnng ooohhhhhhh yeeaaaahhhhh… The river runs red and I think I’m BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGED, YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!! Enter my Life of Agony:
I am not even going to do a game by game. The fact is that Shawn and Randie have bag teams playing each other in the wild card games. Next year, Lenny and Randie have a chance to choose their favorite teams, Oakland and Miami. Make fun of my Redskins now… yeah, I thought so… Buckle up, here is the story:
Baggies and Gentle bags, there is a Bag Light Special on Isle 17… isn’t this the ultimate. Not only do I get to wear the bag on payoff day, but I also get my only win in 8 weeks, make that two wins, so I have to write while in the bag. I have gone over the stats like an Al Gore Campaign worker in 1999; there is just no changing the outcome. Much like Albert, I will now too grow a beard as my life moves into a downslide; I will then have to trim it down to the pathetic fuzz that nature mocks me with on my upper lip. There is no manliness in my mustache, it is not a Burt Reynolds but rather a David Spade… actually make that a Joe Dirt. The follies of my facial hair will be the least of my problems as I sweat into the bag that seamlessly guards my torso. The ladies will be like, “Are you happy to see me or is that a tsunami in your pants?” Overlord Shawn will be showing no mercy for me, mixing alcohols in his personal human tumbler until his master concoction is poured to perfection and served up in piles on the sidewalks of Manhattan, spewed not stirred. Homeless people will feel lucky when I walk, crawl and heave past their concrete and cardboard nests. So it is like an un-baptized child I now walk in Limbo… until Christened by the Bag almighty, Oh Bag! Glory to The!
The Giants and Browns are the only teams in the original eight to return to GB2K5, and I had them both. Why did I choose them…? Why didn’t I go with the Chargers? It all made sense at the time. In this bet, hindsight is baggy/baggy. The Giants had the potential, which I was banking on. By last Sunday they were six deep into the practice squad on more than one position. Warner got the job done for the most part, but Manning needed to be branded and the executive decision was made. Banged up vets and rookies are like baking soda and vinegar, like crotches and garbage bags… funny to watch, but not good to be in the middle of. I knew the Browns would suck, but honestly… it was Cleveland, San Diego and Arizona… what would you have done coming off of last season? I thought Garcia could have done something, but the glare of the sun on his pasty arms must have been too much… maybe next year my Albino Brown. I am Bubba from the epic, Forest Gump. There is no hope for me. Forest will carry my lifeless carcass out of the jungle streets of NYC on his shoulder. My body lying there in a bag, I will whimper something about shrimp. I will be taken off in a checker cab instead of a medic chopper… things will never be the same.
Enough misery… lets look at the other knuckleheads in this mess:
Two games and 1 point for ahead of me is Mr. Sporting himself, Leonard Herold. Dropping two possessions from GB2K3, the defending Overlord is feeling fortunate not to be headlining in this summer’s fashion expo featuring Lenny Hilplastic. Lenny picked Detroit on his first pass through the draft. On the way back around he decided to go with Arizona when left with the Cardinals and the Chargers; Houston may have been in the mix too. Bold move Lenny, I remember the feeling of shock that I had, they were all terrible teams the year before, but San Diego just seemed better. As it turned out, Pennington and the silver and blue came through in the stretch. He switched from Suck to Blow, engaged the engines and went Plaid, leaving me in the space dust. Lenny is Jenny. Although dead in the end of the movie, Jenny lived the full life and saw many things. Jenny will paint his face in the pre-game and head out into the world. He will meet many new people, at least seven. Jenny will have his picture taken with abusive hippies, Black Panthers, and molesting trailer folks alike. Jenny will eventually fall into the arms of Forest and lose consciousness. Don’t cry Je-nny… Lenny is Jenny.
Randie “Lieutenant Dan” Swanberg just didn’t have the legs to keep up with Shawn. Of course, LD didn’t have any legs at all. With Houston and NYJ, he was supposed to die like in past generations, but he didn’t. Pennington pushed his wheel chair to the rehab clinic and Lieutenant Ran met up with forest on the shrimp boat. They weathered the storm and came back to port with a solid five game lead over Jenny and left Bubba seven games under at the end of the season. Now the Houston jersey act as Randie’s titanium legs, his Apple Computer stock and his fat wife who looked like she had Downs Syndrome. DOH! (Good thing you are not really Lieutenant Dan, even the good life kind of sucks... eh?) LD can walk proud with his jersey, knowing that he survived the toughest times and prevailed. He separated himself from the bag he wore last year by two positions. Good job, you crippled bastard!
Heir FOREST! Our blessed Overlord, F. Shawn. With a commendable 23 scratches in the W post he was 6 wins over Randie with 144 additional points for. His San Diego Chargers, the team nobody else would touch with one of Ray Lewis’ hands, outscored his Falcons by 106 points on the season with 14 more touchdowns. It was about week nine when Mama noticed that Forest was special. He was outrunning some bullies in the NFC and AFC when his baggy braces broke off of his stupid ass legs. Shawn took first pick in the draft, a position that nobody else wanted. He of course took Atlanta, the one team that had no place in the bag. With a healthy Vick, all he could hope for was to stay in the peleton. He would not have another choice in the draft, but he would be handed what was leftover. From that moment on everything turned to gold for F. Shawn. He sprinted past the football coach and made the team, got a scholarship to college, settled the racial tensions in 1960s Alabama (Yeah… just like on your daily subway ride!), went to war, saved some dudes, watched the rain, played some ping pong, made some money, caught some shrimp, became a billionaire, all while strolling through life as a blissful fucking retard like it is a storybook. Life is like a box of chocolates… eh Shawn? The Chargers! Dammed!!! I am so dead.
So that is where we stand. See the results of the season below in Forest’s Spreadsheet. Please joint us for the payoff this summer for drinking and face paint and plastic and an all around fan-plastic time. It is going to come way too soon for me; we will let you know when it is on… Enjoy the playoffs and remember, NASCAR starts in just over a month!
Current Stats/Standings Wins Losses Ties Points For Points Against Total TDs Yellow Flags! Shawn ATL 11 5 0 340 337 41 SD 12 4 0 446 313 55 Total 23 9 0 786 650 96 Randie NYJ 10 6 0 333 261 38 HOU 7 9 0 309 339 37 Total 17 15 0 642 600 75 Lenny DET 6 10 0 296 350 32 AZ 6 10 0 284 322 31 Total 12 20 0 580 672 63 Colin 1 NYG 6 10 0 303 347 34 CLE 4 12 0 276 390 29 Total 10 22 0 579 737 63