"My intellect has taken a step backward since discovering The Daily Drivel" - Albert Einstein
" When I read it I begin to hate my fellow man. I want to hit something"- Mohandas Gandhi
"A complete abomination. We all weep at its very existence"- Abraham Lincoln
"I wouldn't begin my day without it. I've learned so much." - Lindsay Lohan

Thursday, January 29, 2009



Charles- Well, here we go again. I can't believe yet another football season is about to come to a close. Where did the time go? Oh Oh.
Paul- Ya said a mouth full there Chuck. I feel like we're still in training camp watching those magnificent boys run through tires and all that nonsense. Yet here we are on the verge of yet another Superbowl. Which one is it now? 50? 60? Does anyone really give a crap? Nobody can figure out those damn Roman numerals anyway. I was lost after XXX. Why the hell can't we just give them regular numbers?
Charles- Because they are like gladiators, and this is their ultimate battle. I still remember Superbowl III. If I close my eyes I can picture Broadway Joe running off the field, waving that big......
Paul- Whoa there big fella, there's kids out there reading this article. Let's not get X-rated here. We all know about Namath.......
Charles- Oh oh. I was about to say finger, you libidinous creature. He was waving that big index finger in victory as he ran off the field after upsetting the Colts. Paul what's your favorite Superbowl memory?
Paul- Tom Brady dripping with champagne.
Charles- That's a pretty good memory, and a darn good screen saver, but I meant on the field, you little scamp.
Paul- Oh, please, who the hell watches the game anyway. It's usually a terrible lop sided blow out. It's just filler between good commercials. Which commercial are you looking forward to?
Charles- Oh oh. Well, if you have to know, I'm sure there will be a good one with LeBron James. That nubian king could sell me anything. He could pull my pants off and sell them right back to me. And I'd pay it. Whatever the cost.
I like the one with the powder or chalk or whatever the hell that stuff is all over him, but I'll be damned if I know what the heck he's selling. It doesn't matter, I'm too busy trying to figure out what his tattoos say anyway.
Paul- Chuck, if I see one more Geico gecko or caveman or pile of cash with eyeballs on it, I'm going to lose it. I'm going to choke someone with a feather boa.
Charles- Never mind your nonsense, you drama queen. What about the game? People are eagerly awaiting our picks. What's your prediction?
Paul- New Orleans -37 Chicago- 31
Charles- Really? You have no idea who's playing do you?
Paul- Do you?
Charles- Of course. I'm a sports reporter just like you. Oh oh. Don't you dare brow beat me.
Paul- So, what's your prediction fancy pants?
Charles- New England -51 Houston-7
Paul- Atleast mine was a closer game.
Charles- Whatever, it's all about the party anyway. I have my ensemble picked out for the party at Rip Taylor's bungalow. A blue blazer with matching captain's hat, a striped ascot, and a mahogany pipe. Oh Oh. I can't wait.
Paul- We wish all of our devoted followers out there a fabulous Superbowl party and if there's time, and there's a lull in the action, by all means, watch some of the game. DD

No comments: