Come check out my butterfly collection tomorrow. I just got a new Monarch, and he's beautiful!
No Patriots this week. So today, I'm going to talk about Zombie Favre and his mighty penis, heretofore known as Little Z.
I want you all to take a journey back with me, all the way to the 2007 season.
It was a magical season for what was then a very much alive Brett Favre. He was working on his sixteenth season with the Packers and was having one of the best years of his career. With over 4,000 passing yards, 28 touchdowns and a 95.7 passer rating, the Packers marched into the playoffs and came ever so close to a Superbowl appearance (a game we shall not speak of). That spring, in a tear-filled press conference, Favre announced his retirement from the game he loves and all of football praised him for a most excellent career. He was respected. He was revered. He was beloved. He was destined for the Hall of Fame and a place amongst the gods of football past. Truly a titan amongst men...
And now, back in 2010, we are looking at pictures of Little Z and hearing of his extramarital escapades as he plays football once again, only now as a member of the walking dead. It is truly impressive how far the mighty has fallen!
On the field yesterday for Monday Night Football, Zombie Favre continued his downward spiral with another late-game interception to seal a 29-20 loss to the Jets. He was so disappointed in himself that he couldn't even bring himself to eat Rex Ryan, although he did bite his left index finger, just for the sake of tradition. He did, however, have three touchdowns, so it wasn't a total loss, statistically speaking. Although one of them did happen to be an interception by Randy Moss, who was later discovered to have been actually been a teammate, causing Favre to breath a big sigh of relief.
Speaking of Randy, he had been in Minnesota for only an hour before he remarked, with great pride and humility, that he was hungry. Unfortunately, the limo driver refused to stop at Burger King, and Moss was quite cranky when he finally got to the stadium, immediately launching into a tirade about how little respect he got and how much Minnesota wanted to see him not do good. But then, in a stunning act of concession and thoughtful management, Brad Childress gave him an ice cream cone (strawberry) and Randy stopped whining, and is sure to remain happy until the temperature starts to drop daily below absolute zero (approximately November 1st).
But back to the main event, Little Z: Apparently Zombie Favre has become a microcosm of Tiger Woods, only with less sexual escapades with porn stars and more begging of hot women to sleep with him. This begging included taking pictures of the little guy and txting them to women unsolicited. One such women kept these pictures for two years, waiting for just the right moment to strike (approximately 2:13 PM) so as to maximize her media exposure. And maximize she certainly did; the news can't quite seem to get enough of male sports celebrities doing dirty things. In fact, just last week the Boston Globe caught Tom Brady eating a chicken nugget off the floor of a Wendy's after it had very clearly been lying there for over the allowed five seconds. I expect the media frenzy to commence any minute now.
I'm already bored with all this; time to go back to my nachos and wait for Tom Brady and his lovable band of misfits to beat the Ravens using only his dimpled chin. Until next week, be sure and remember: Pictures are forever, so make sure the room is warm before you fire up the camera.