Your Week 12 Hate Guide: Thanksgiving Edition
*The author of the Hate Guide is not responsible for any deaths as a result of choking on your turkey while reading this article. For best results, finish consuming your feast before proceeding to wash it down with Hate. The Hate Guide cannot be held accountable for any kitchen fires as a result of unattentiveness. Hateful Holidays!
I just typed the word ‘well' to start the article and since Neal said not to do that I have just written this sentence to avoid doing so. Last week's abortion at Heinz Field is in our small rear view mirror. I'm not going to dwell on what was one of my least favorite losses ever. Holding the Ratbird's and Flaccid Joe to 3 total whopping points off of a stupid turnover is freaking amazing and we squandered it away like a young rapper with his first record deal check.
Hate can overcome virtually anything. But if there is one wall Hate cannot climb, it's stupidity. The power of stupid overwhelms every other potential contender. The inexplicable things in life are often easily understood when Stupid is factored in. Lindsay Lohan, Michael Vick, Plaxico Burress, Politics, Taco Salads, and Women can all be quickly deciphered when you add the Stupid element to the picture. And Tomlin embodied his inner stupid like a retarded dog chasing its own tail in a minefield. I am thoroughly convinced if we had pulled McRibwich at any point after his TD we'd have won that game.
And this isn't hating on our future Primanti Bros' menu item named QB, it's not his fault he somehow dropped to the ground as if he were shot by an aborigine's blowgun dart fired from the south tunnel. But only a complete and total moron would deny his being in obvious excruciating pain. A man who usually launches balls out of his hand faster than a first time handjob giver was limp-dicking them into the dirt like (Insert Browns QB name here).
Before we get into some NFL hate, I'd like to take this moment to discuss the holidays. Holidays are basically a lot like women. Halloween is that crazy goth party girl that wants to chug Everclear and do something strange to your asses. Valentine's day is the hot but clingy super romantic cunt that drags you to every soul devouring chick flick and faggy yoga event. Columbus day is that girl you never knew existed until she asked you out.
But Thanksgiving is the Kate Upton of holidays: Full, luscious, pleasant, pouty-lipped, and downright damn delicious.
Yes, Kate Upton eats Hardees. That's why she and Thanksgiving are both descended from heaven.
I love, nay, pleasure myself to Thanksgiving (and by proxy Kate Upton, but I didn't need to tell you that.) It has everything you could ever want in a holiday. It's got epic quantities of food that would satiate a horde of hungry hungry hippos. You get a 4 day weekend for essentially no reason other than to gain 5 pounds. And best of all, you get a hearty helping of the best single day NFL experience ever. Three games, three time slots. It's like a prostitute assembly line and you're the quality control tester. Best of all: The women are in the kitchen where they belong and I didn't have to buy shit for anyone.
And THAT is why I would like to issue a pair of raised middle fingers to the upcoming holiday that steals Thanksgiving's thunder like Robin Williams showing up at an improv club. Christmas is that girl that nags you and won't ever leave you alone and shows up when you least want her. She brings her kids and just crashes on your sofa for a fucking month ruining your existence.
I hate Christmas for so many reasons I could literally do a whole guide on it. For starters, it's a religious holidays. I'm rather anti-religious personally, and I don't want your bible covered dongs being pushed into my face every day like some sort of Jesuskake. I'm all bout America and her beautiful garter belt of freedom. Feel free to express your religion how you want, but please don't trot it around like an award winning mini horse leaving stinky holier-than-thou shit all over the place. It's even worse here in Peru dear science. I'm pretty sure that if a business doesn't put a nativity scene in their lobby they can be fined. If baby infant Jesus isn't staring you in the face at all times in December you can be sent directly to jail without passing go. I get it, you were kind of a big deal, now leave me the FUCK alone. I don't see Elvis' or Einstein's or Hitler's face all over everything and they mattered a bit.
Then consider the fact that it's been commercialized harder than Peyton Manning. Everything is a damn Christmas special. Going to a store is like walking through a zombie horde from Night of the Living Dead. Nothing is more enjoyable than wading through the masses as they mindlessly search for their list of gifts to give to people out of 90% obligation and 10% guilt. I swear the color blue is simply removed from the spectrum and green and red burns your retinas everywhere you go.
And then the god awful music oh just screw me with a spatula. Who decided we had to listen to the same god damn CD of 12 songs every year? Shouldn't we all get to vote on the playlist here? Big Christmas has been making sure we get brainwashed with all the same retarded tracks year after year for the last eleventy billion years. If you listen to them backwards, you can hear ginger children whispering "credit card", "spend money", "Kill yourself", and of course "Satan rules". And any modern attempts at replacing the world's worst collection of music are somehow shittier in comparison. The secret is this: ALL CHRISTMAS MUSIC IS SHIT!!! ALL OF IT!!! How dumb are people?! You don't LIKE Christmas music. You tolerate it. You put up with it. You've become so desensitized to it that you have literally no reaction when it first comes on. Nobody cranks up the volume on Christmas music, you just hold your breath and wait for the next song. Christmas music is like sandpaper being constantly rubbed on you. After a couple of decades you just stop crying and surrender.
And the presents almost always end up sucking. Nobody ever gets what they want, but society has decided that telling people what you want is unacceptable and spoils the fun. I have no shame in just telling people to hand me money. Or booze. Essentially they're one and the same.
The mascot of Christmenos is Santa. Take a second to ponder Santa. Morbidly obese, dresses like a strawberry frapuccino from Starbucks, lacks proper transportation (imagine the emissions from those reindeer), and breaks into people's houses and raids their fridge for cookies and milk. Oh and he puts your daughter on his lap and says Ho Ho Ho. Great messages to send to the world there. I hate em and he stanks! I hope while he's flying over Baghdad an RPG takes out his sleigh and a terrorist Moose-lamb shocks Santa's balls.
Folks Christmas blows reindeer dong and stanks like rotten eggnog. But Thanksgiving is the shit. Thanksgiving is all about giving thanks, not being forced to say it when you get a scarf from grandma. And what am I thankful for? That we get to play two games a year against the Cleveland Browns. That's called a segue bitches! Learn it!
The two games a year against the Feces are like a good massage. It usually starts out rough on the first one, as the knots and kinks in your back get worked out. But then you loosen up and you get to bang your masseuse like a farmer on his sheep and you love every second of it. This game will be the rougher of the two, but you know we're going to win, because Cleveland is just.. Cleveland.
I always berate teams for not having appropriate names. But the Cleveland Browns make no attempt to put lipstick on the pig that is their team. They do not polish their turds. They simply hang them out for all to smell. Even if my team were from Cleveland, I totally wouldn't tell anybody that. I'd pick a much nicer sounding place, like Mogadishu. Cleveland is a total shithole whose leading export is depression and star athletes. The only thing they import is pain and suffering. Living in Cleveland is like sleeping on the floor of a damp rat infested apartment with smelly junkies. It's a prison for the poor.
Nobody to date has ever stayed in Cleveland. Even the dude who invented Cleveland realized it was a terrible decision. Moses Cleaveland, who obviously came from a place where people either cleaved eachother with butcher knives or had women with enormous breasts, I'm assuming the former, saw a nice empty plain in Ohio and decided to set up shop. Except that because he was a retard, he did this in July, which is the only month in which Cleveland is remotely hospitable to human life. He immediately LEFT TOWN and wisely never returned. He continued to live and die in Connecticut. From Moses to LeBron, nobody stays in Cleveland. Filming Land of No Return in Cleveland would have been a very smart choice.
The other part of the Browns' name is, well, Brown. Brown has very little to no good things associated with it. Some colors have good connotations and others don't. White has plenty of positive connections. Red makes you think of love and hate, which I'm all about. Yellow is a mixed bag, but Pittsburgh and Asians > Being a pussy and urine. Black has its share of problems but still has being cool and having a big honker going for it.
But Brown? Least of all the colors. What does brown have associated with it? There's the obvious excrement, unless you drank some wine. And there's dirt, which is dirty and everywhere. And football that resembles a bunch of blindfolded drunks being asked to play a game of tag barefoot on shards of glass. The Cleveland Browns are honest about who they are: A desolate pile of shit that couldn't find its own cock n' balls if Snooki showed up looking with a magnifying glass, a flashlight, and an appetite.
This team can't do anything right. The Brown's draft board looks like a smack addict's To-Do list. They get Brandon ‘Doopy Pantz' Weeden in the first round. I love that I didn't have to make up such a great nickname. That's how bad Weeden is. Drafting a 28 year old QB is like buying a new 2007 Hummer today. It's only new because nobody would go near it for 5 years more than average. I mean seriously even if he does pan out what's the return on your investment there? 5 years? And if he does turn out well they're going to have to dose him with roofies to get him to stay. He's already well above the age at which most Clevelandian boys attempt to flee. He'll be on a bus with a staph infection long before his contract negotiations.
The Browns are now owned by a self-proclaimed Steelers fan. This just is the ultimate form of domination. Now we own you. Not in the way that 13 year old kids say it when they play Call of Duty as "Britney's_Left_Tit", but in the literal legal sense of the word. You are our bitches and you will bow down and beg for mercy. We have no reason to let you live. We need wins and you're going to cough up two of them like a busy deep throater. I hate you and you stank! You're all going down on this Sunday.
We're gonna be amped for this game, we need to be. The D is going to take over this season and Doopy Pantz and Co are the perfect candidates for some turnovers and punishment. We're gonna put our leashes on these mutts from the Dawg Pound (dumbest, yet most accurate fan designation ever), walk them down the street, and then punt them off one of our glorious and innumerous bridges ala Baxter. Bring your hate to the Steelers. Channel it! We must overcome the Browns. They are far stupider than we are and clearly much more incompetent. If you handed the Browns a knife and the Thanksgiving Turkey they'd probably end up stabbing themselves in the neck. And that would be a good day in my opinion.
I hate em and they stank and if they all somehow lit their river on fire a third time while on a party boat I would be as giddy as a school girl who just got Justin Bieber's autograph. But should they manage to survive, I know deep down I won't mind because nothing feels better than bending the Browns over our knees and giving em a good ole spanking with a wooden implement.
So Cleveland Browns, go make like the Japanese and kill yourselves, or continue to be our butt slaves for the rest of your lives. I hate you and you stank and can't wait to see your entrails removed on Sunday by the hard hitting smash-mouth Pittsburgh Steelers baby!
Before we go any further I'd like to take this moment to refresh your hate tanks and give you a breath of fresh rage. Hatemaster extraordinaire, Lewis Black, agrees with me on Christmas. If you like hate, and I know you do, listen to its Godfather.
Back? Great! Didn't go anywhere? Get your ass back where I told you to be you faithless heathen! Hate is a process. It's like good sex. You don't just rush into it with your dick pointing straight ahead toward the nearest gaping hole. You warm it up and tenderly stick it in, oh yeah.
Speaking of sticking it in, there's a Thanksgiving tradition that I've always loved (save for one notable exception): The annual reaming of the Detroit Lions on Thanksgiving. A time honored tradition that started when the Natives met the Pilgrims in Detroit in 1483. Before all the Lions of Detroit had been shot by gangbangers, they were tamed by the local tribesmen. Well one day, the Pilgrims went over, shot all of them, took their land, and made a holiday out of it. Since then, Thanksgiving has been celebrated as a way to watch Detroit fail year after year. This year they get their helping of stuffing from the Houston Texans, who no doubt will be running them over like a Jeep on squirrels.
Once you've loosened your belt a few notches and wiped the gravy off your face, you'll be ready for the afternoon stool softener game. There's always a semi-decent matchup that will keep you half awake while you swallow your beer and let the holiday spirit wash over you. That game this year is Cowboys vs. Indians. How in the hell does the NFL get away with this on a PR level? Putting the Redskins on Thanksgiving? The Indians didn't exactly get the best end of the totem pole way back in the day. Goodell probably suspended them from their land. I guess this is his way of reenacting this historic event. I have a feeling that just like in history, the Redskins will go marching on a trail of tears into the western wilderness while whitey feasts. Or maybe history will get rewritten and the Cowboys will get sent back to their farmland so they can go have sex with their horses and cousins at the same time using crude oil as lubricant.
And then you get to cap it all off with the annual primetime Jets Patriots game, which is as overrated as 69. Somebody should have told the Fuhrer that the Jets suck balls like a lottery machine and that they're about as competitive as a handless man in a masturbation race. Of course Goodell had to put his butt-buddies in the top slot, despite it not making for great entertainment. The tyrant only cares about TV ratings and since most people are retarded Patriots Jets makes for good entertainment. It's about as entertaining as watching paint dry while fire ants crawl up your legs. Plus it's the combination of Tebow and Brady, which means that the announcers' collective slobber from the cock gargling will pool up in the studio and flood the entire building.
But, if you make it through these three games in one piece, you'll be able to keep on eatin turkey sammitches for the rest of the weekend, and you'll be demolishing commodes in no time. Happy Hatesgiving from the Hate Guide, you disgusting fat ass monsters!