These guys are soft. Degenerates. Probably full of steroids (but they'll only test positive because they work out so hard), most likely doing more blow than John Belushi. If they run out, don't worry, they've got good chemistry.
I'd love to put on pads and pop those fucking douche bags in the mouth, but I'll just have to count on the New York Jets to take care of that for me tonight.
During a nationally televised event on ESPN this evening, tens of thousands of unsuspecting Houstonians in Reliant Stadium will cheer and scream for a bunch of overpaid turds, while school teachers and firemen are being laid off in record numbers, and good people everywhere are struggling to build a better life.
Can you imagine if one of your children walked up to you one day and said, "When I grow up I want to be just like the Houston Turds"? Talk about the most depressing day of your life.
At the end of the day, every shaman and witch in the Houston area couldn't unleash enough demonic spiritual power to hide the fact that this is simply an average group of football players embarking on another opportunity to embarrass a city.
The real story will actually be happening on the sidelines tonight. The real story is Wade Phillips, the respected son of Houston hero Bum Phillips, who was tricked into signing a contract with this group of shitheads before he understood what he was getting himself into.
Congratulations America, these are your Houston Turds.
I have decided to handle this football season a certain way. Each week, I have a new favorite team. This week, I'm a Jets fan. The 49ers and Saints will get my support soon. If you're a visiting team, don't think of your time playing against the Turds as simply a ball game. This is much more important that that. You're flushing a toilet.
Of course, I'm ready for some football.