Your Week 15 Hate Guide

Your Week 15 Hate Guide

*The Hate Guide contains content that may not be suitable for adults, keep out of reach of children. The Hate Guide is does not represent the thoughts or opinions of BTSC or its authors. This article is satirical in nature and is not meant to be taken literally, so please stay chill. Or else...

This season for the Steelers has gone up and down more than a 14 year old's penis at a pool party. This week was one of the flaccid, nearly concave weeks. As if we were dipped into an icy cold hot tub full of heavy set middle aged women with facial hair. All I can say is I hated last week's game and it stank like a lazy taxidermist! We had about as much electricity as a tribal African village. We looked flatter than Paris Hilton.

Sometimes you get into a bit of rut with the ladies. Dry spells happen to the best of us. They have a nasty tendency to perpetuate themselves due to the unfortunate side effect of damaging your self confidence and mojo. The longer it lasts, the worse it gets. When that happens, the best thing you can do is stop worrying and find the sluttiest piece of meat you can find and get back on your horse. This also applies to football. We've been stuck in an offensive rut, and even the defense had a bad day. Our dongs hang low and soft. We feel frustrated, stuck in a vicious cycle of suck. The spirits here have been lower than the balls of a 90 year old man who regularly does jumping jacks.

So who's the easy broad that'll get us pointing in the right direction, true north? Why none other than the Phallus Blowboys. This here is a team I HATE! And yet this is the first hate guide dedicated to their stankyness. So finally you guys get some new material.

Before I delve into the vat of shit that is this football team, I'll share a personal Cowgirls anecdote. You see, the Cowboys were the first team I ever hated. They're tied right in with my first ever Steelers memory. First team hated is up there with first time laid and first time drunk in terms of awesome memories. I was but a wee angry hateful lad of 6 years. I had already tried to kill my sister once, and had urinated on a kindergarten floor cause I was mad the teacher was taking too long in the bathroom (our whole class had one in the room (and these are true stories)). The hate was indeed strong in me from an early time.

At such a tender and formative year, I had not been interested in football in the least. But this day it stayed in my mind. Many men had been shouting and screaming the whole time, and I arose from downstairs to investigate after hours of such shenaniganry. I recall quite clearly watching a television set from a distance. Peeking through the gaps between the wooden banister supports. A crushed and trembling united scream howled through the confines of the home, such that it rattled my bones. I instantly knew whatever had happened was significant. I approached the TV set, and the bastion of black and gold clad men surrounding it. A man in silver and blue was on the TV, and the TV sounded pretty happy and excited. Around me it was anything but. . I recognized whoever that guy was he had brought sadness and bad juju to us. I knew that the other guys were the good ones, since one look around the room would indicate thusly. The precise moment I made this connection I grew mad at that blur on the TV. I hated him for making everyone else feel bad. I would later realize that this memory was me watching Super Bowl XXX (aka the porno bowl HOLLah, up TOP!!).

The first Steeler game I have any recollection of is a loss. A super bowl loss. That's the worst kind of loss. That's like having to pay alimony AND child support. I want to make one thing perfectly loud and clear: You beat the Steelers in a Super Bowl, and I will hate you for eternity. I will not rest until your soul is devoured by demons and tossed around for satanic gangbang. While only two teams ride this list, they're both hated and stanky for their crimes against humanity and Steeler Nation, the most glorious nation of all.

But of course, there are tons of other reasons to hate the Dallassholes. The most offensive and egregious would be their moniker. That would be "America's Team". Well, a picture is worth a thousand words.



Oh, and Texas wasn't even part of America. It was part of Mexico. Pennsylvania was one of the original 13 colonies. Worse yet, Dallas is one of the leading cities for the Russian mail order bride, with over 70,000 communists in the area. Way to just let the enemy walk on in. They say everything's bigger in Texas, apparently that includes the amount of idiocy too. Calling yourselves America's team would be like Buffalo calling itself Canada's team (which it probably will be). So you former Mexico later rebels that sucked America's teat for protection can eat my black and gold shit. You spread your legs wide open for anyone in the 90s and because people are retarded they just decided to follow you because you were once upon a time a semi respectable team. How bandwagon are these fans? Well, half of Dallas residents weren't even born in Dallas.

Who is the pimp for this whorish southern floozy? None other than an ancient wrinkly scrotum-faced Texan with more plastic in his face than Joan Rivers and who pisses light sweet crude and devours souls: Jerry Jones. Fairy Jerry is, without a doubt, the most hated and stanky owner in all of sports. This is an overrated tit sucker cling on geezer born with a silver spoon up his ass. His first job was of course a high paying gig at daddy's company. Except when he got his own money he failed to do anything with it.

Because god is cruel, the dumbest men have the best luck. Jones struck liquid gold, and got rich. He bought the Cowboys and lucked into a couple good drafts, and Jones pulled off a couple good years in the 90s, but what has he done since? His grand achievement over the last decade? Tony friggin Romo. Romo is the NFC's Flacco. He'll put up amazing numbers one week, and throw 3 picks the next. Romo also has a knack for sucking when the game is on the line. This is a guy who fumbled a chip shot field goal in a playoff game folks. The Cowboys have won exactly ONE playoff game since their Super Bowl victory in 1996. The Steelers in the meantime have cleaned up with a few Super Bowls since their loss, adding to our superior total of 6, SIX, Lombardi Trophies.

Jerry's never learned that sticking his old saggy face where it doesn't belong won't bring you a super bowl. Firing coaches whenever his prune laden body has trouble passing a morning stool hasn't proved to succeed. Trash talking them and braggin about your drafting also doesn't help. He signs guys that bring more cancer to the locker room than a plutonium milkshake. Pacman Jones, TO, Dez Bryant, Irvin, Jones loves a selfish me-first WR. Mike Wallace might be a Cowgirl soon.

Pittsburgh hasn't had much trouble with Dallas in recent years. And we're not going to have trouble this week. The ship will be righted. Our rods will rise, our hate spears pointed at the enemy. We're going to gouge out Jerry's eyes with our raging hate boners. Harrison is going to vomit all over Tony Romo and infect him with a bad case of death. Polamalu will get like 4 picks with that long flowing hair that'll remind Romo of Jessica Simpson. Antonio Brown will be teaching Dez Bryant how to pass the GED and get into the real NFL. The plastic in Jerry Jones' face is going to melt from the intense heat reflected off Mike Tomlin's stunner shades.

This team is softer than a Frosty from Wendy's after sitting out in the sun for an hour. These self-aggrandizing flamboyant-dancing America-raping cow-fucking tater taints are gonna get trampled by a stampede of angry Steelers this Sunday afternoon. The Cowboys scarred me for life, let's return the favor. I hate em and they stank! May they be overrun with drug cartel enforcers and hung from the street lights as their bowels dangle below. I hope Mexico decides to retake them and conquers the entire state full of dumbass sounding hicks who all think they're some kind of hardass rancher when all they do is sit in a comfy chair drinking beer and getting fatter by the day. These morbidly obese frauds need to go. Lets turn that star upside down and send these bitches to hell.

The Hate Guide is going to just stick to the main event this week. We need to channel our focus and hate onward. We're perilously close to failing to make the playoffs, and this week matters more than ever. I still believe in the Steelers. We CAN gather ourselves and take over in January. Tomlin can unite this team, and we can join as one in our support as one body of hate. Even our fearless spirit guide Dan Rooney is returning from Ireland to take care of more pressing matters: Our football team. Yes, Steeler nation is more important than the Mr. Drunken Potato Heads. We will hunt, we will strike, and we will KILL!

I know my lack of live hate the last few weeks is clearly part of the problem, and will make every effort to bring the fire back to our Still mill. I'm coming back to the USA soon, and will be in Pittsburgh in January. Got a lot to prepare for, hence the brevity of the hate guide this week. Hopefully I've managed to satiate your thirsts for blood. Join me @hatingtheleague and let's make the Cowgirls ride in reverse as we dominate them for 60 hard minutes!

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