We’ve been a bit derelict in addressing the Tuesday evening release of the NFL schedule. But fear not, for we asked God, our weekly game analyst during the season, to sit down with us and talk about some of his plans for this season’s matchups. Take it away. God.
People are looking for someone to blame in the whole economic collapse. They want to blame the bankers. They want to blame the insurers. They want to blame homeowners. Well kids, you are looking in the wrong direction. Want someone to blame for this whole economic shortage? Look up.
Because I just owned your shit.
You little shits. Thought your lives were just so comfortable now, didn’t you? Well, that’s just when God likes to step in and give you a cold, hard fucking slap of reality. Oooh, ooh! Where did all our trillions go? They just disappeared overnight! How could that have happened?
I’ll tell you how it happened: Because God takes what he wants, when he wants to. And if you don’t like it, you can drown.
The fact is, I’ve been losing at the unicorn track a bit lately. I plunked a cool trillion on Mia Sara at 45:1 odds a few months back. And that little BITCH ended up wandering off the track to go cry on a dying orphan. Unbelievable. How does a unicorn named Mia Sara lose? Christ my kid, I’ve been dying to nail that chick for 20 years. You know how I’d nail Mia Sara? I’d put her in that tight little fringe jacket she wore, and nothing else. Then I’d bend her over a cloud and make some fucking THUNDER.
So you want to know where all the money went, gang? There’s your answer. You lost because Tom Smith can’t train unicorns for SHIT. I should have had that stupid pony doped up with Pegasus blood. Never fails. And don’t come bitching to me about losing your job, or your house. I don’t wanna hear it. My ungrateful little shit of a kid just threw a $20 trillion Resurrection Party, and I had to front it. Hey kid, you get a birthday party every year. I don’t see why I have to cough up for your fucking rebirthday party too. AND you had a deathday party on Friday! Little prick.
So don’t bitch to me. God’s got problems of his own. And if you don’t like it, just wait until I take away all your water. Don’t think it’ll happen? Oh, it’s gonna happen. O YOU GON NOT DRANK. Bear Bryant taught me all about how depriving people of water motivates them. Well, get ready to get really fucking motivated, you little peons.
Anyway, the schedule. Yeah, I made it. Think your team has a rough go of it next year? Well, tough titty for you. “Oh, wah wah! We have to play NFL-caliber opponents every week! Boo hoo!” Sit and spin.
Here are my favorites matchups of the year, along with how I plan to end them:
WEEK 1: Giants 45, Redskins 20. Hey Skins fans, here’s where I make you go flying off your gay little bandwagon. “Oh oh, if only Campbell would throw it downfield to one of our horrible receivers! Then we would all be saved!” I can’t wait. I’ll be watching this game while dining on some moo shu unicorn. The secret to making it delicious is a good plum sauce. Man, I love plum sauce.
WEEK 2: Saints 28, Eagles 27. I’ll be snapping Donovan McNabb’s tibia this week. Look for it.
WEEK 3: Falcons 21, Patriots 13. Hey you Boston fans, this is the week you slowly begin to realize Tom Brady isn’t quite the same, and then you go bitching everywhere you can about how they nevah should have traded Cassel. OR DREW BLEDSOE! Just for that, I’ll be greenlighting another David E. Kelley series based in your town. You deserve it.
WEEK 5: Lions 21, Steelers 17. That’s my “Let me fuck up your suicide pool” special of the year. MORE CRACKER SOUP FOR YOU, POOR BOY.
WEEK 6: Chargers 52, Broncos 47. I love shootouts. Except in unicorn football. Then I prefer a bloody defensive battle.
WEEK 8: Seahawks 13, Cowboys 7. YEEEEHAW YOU ARE FUCKING MEDIOCRE AGAIN!
WEEK 10: Patriots 24, Colts 20. Watch as I personally age both these teams 12 years in one season. Few people know that I transferred Richie Petitbon’s soul to the vessel of Jim Caldwell.
WEEK 11: Raiders 33, Bengals 12. Just for Milt.
WEEK 15: Ravens 27, Bears 7. Hey Cutler, I hope you wear your game frown for this one.
WEEK 16: Chargers vs. Titans (cancelled due to double team bus crashes). Don’t fuck with my kid’s birthday, NFL.
SUPER BOWL: Ravens 22, Giants 13. In a shitty economy, I will give you a shitty Super Bowl. And you will like it. Now excuse me while I turn into mist and sneak into Rebecca Gayheart’s shower.