Your Week 16 Hate Guide
*The Hate Guide contains heaps of profanity and vulgarities that may be considered offensive to some. The content of the Hate Guide does not reflect the opinions of BTSC or its authors. All content is meant to be understood in a satirical and humorous light, please read accordingly. Hate on!
Allow me to start with a basic affirmation of what I wrote last week: I hate the Cowboys and they stank. I hope one of Jerry Jones' giant oil tankers spills out on his gigantic field with fancy punt viewing cameras and gets set ablaze and roasts the entire facility and their old ass cheerleaders and their obnoxious players and their ignorant mouth-breathing fat chest bumping fans to ashes.
In what turned out to be a vain attempt to provide you with live hate, I sought out my football in the confines of a local NFL bar. There is only one place in Lima Peru where the Steelers can be seen with regularity. This place is a breeding ground for the rabid rabble of raucous and rambunctious residents with NFL ties. Fans from all teams descend upon the humble bar to consume mass quantities of American food and scream in English. While normally this would be a welcome respite from Peru, it really becomes an exercise in patience.
Across the bar were two incredibly intolerable ignoramuses who proclaimed fandom for the Dallasholes. One was an overgrown morbidly obese man who would make Andy Reid look like a size 00 model. His comrade was an absolute moron frat-man who acted as though he were still in college despite being at least 32. As they chugged the gallon towers of beer they grew incredibly more retarded, and began chest bumping each other and shouting at me across the bar.
You don't mess with the hate master, and I retorted their heckling with the support of a fellow Peruvian Steeler Fan who had my back the whole night. These pussfaces were such weak sauce that they actually left before the end of the 4th quarter, just after the Cowgirls had tied the game. The annoying frat-man claimed to also be a Giants fan, which makes about as much sense as Bar Rafaeli having sex with the chubby kid from Hot Tub Time Machine.
All I can say is that these two exemplify to a perfect T the type of people that I hate in Dallas and I hope that the two of them meet their untimely (read: overdue) demise at the hands of a wayward bus weaving through traffic.
This week, it's win or go home. If we lose on Sunday, we no longer can qualify for the playoffs. I will not allow this to happen. Not this week, not ever. I'm ripshit pissed enough to tear a hole through a concrete wall. On top of that, a torrential downpour of personal bullshit has me angrier than a coke head in a rehab clinic. So bear with me while I dive into a page of personal hate. But I'm sure the men reading this will sympathize, for the women out there, you may want to skip a page. Just know that if you aren't a maniacal super turbo NOS bitch I still love you and we can make sweet love anytime you want, provided you are not morbidly obese.
I lost my job today, which is a wonderful treat. Frankly I don't really give a rat's ass because I have plans of my own in which I conquer the world of Peruvian business and exact a most horrific form of revenge upon those that have spurned me on my quest to glory. It shouldn't be hard for me to do seeing as almost every single one of these businesses here is run be a retarded power tripping woman who's been punished with a case of permanent PMS.
Men, when did we start allowing ladies to do stuff? The single worst decision our society ever made. Once upon a time man ruled supreme, and the ladies had the most fantastic deal ever: We work, you stay home and cook and clean, and then we have sex and buy you stuff. If somebody walked up to me and offered me this deal I would snatch it up in a heartbeat. You mean all I have to do is make some dinner, vacuum and scrub some floors, and then have sex with you for 10 minutes (likely less) and I get a free place to stay and all the free clothes and food I want? DEAL DONE!
But Noooooo... That wasn't good enough for Big Vagina. Big Vag wanted stuff like careers and education and suffrage. Not content to just take the awesome plea bargain on the table, they got greedy and went for the whole shebang. Well now you got it ladies, are you happy? Almost every marriage ends in divorce now, offices are intolerable and inefficient, and women are ordering me around on their every whim. I wouldn't have a problem with this if it weren't for one thing. That is that these people don't think about the business first, just their personal feelings, of which women have a SHIT TON. So instead of keeping me because I'm one of the best workers on the force, my boss gets rid of me out of spite for what appears to me to be no reason whatsoever.
I've lost two jobs here to power tripping megalomaniacal women who seem to think that they can just flap their labia and wave their magic clitoral wand and be queen of the universe. I have yet to meet one woman in a position of power who was a nice, approachable, reasonable person. I'm only stating the facts of my life so far. I'm sure there are a few non-total bitches out there who are kind people in positions of importance. I have yet to meet one, that's just my experience. This latest case was total horse shit. The owner of my school was a total cunt, and she pretended to work while collecting a check from mommy's business, which frankly would be about 100 times better under my supreme deism.
On top of throwing me all the work that she didn't want to do, which I always did happily without complaint, she'd throw me under the bus whenever she looked bad. And now she just told our director to let me go and not renew my contract, ignoring the fact that I performed to the letter in every aspect of my job and never once complained about anything.
So to you, miss silver-spoon up her ass ex-boss of mine so stupid you couldn't find snow in a blizzard, I say one thing: I hate you and you stank! And I hope your stanky menstruation attracts a horde of bears you tear you limb from limb and leave you a dead and bloody mess. Once scientists figure out how to raise a baby to term in a laboratory and figure out digital intercourse that feels just like the real thing, we will have no more need of you. Begone with ye!
Ahh... That feels better. The hate's on the table, allow me to funnel it into the state of Ohio.
The Prison-atti Bungholes get to be the recipients of my hate package (another name for my testes). If there was ever a time for some super duper epic hate, it's this week. As I said, it's either win or stay at home and jack off. I plan on keeping our collective dicks out of our hands for at least another week.
The Pussycat dolls of Cincy are of course a hated and stanky division rival. But they've never quite managed to instill that intensity that the Ravens had been able to do year in and out. Oh and by the way, look how goddamn bad they are. It pains me to think that we could have locked up the division by now. But I do rejoice in knowing that we put them on their losing streak. The Bengals though have never really been a major threat. They're kind of like a 10 year old with a knife. Sure, he might stab you, but chances are he's going to miss and it won't even go that deep. The Bengals are the "Check Engine Light" of the AFC North, most of the time you don't have to worry about it and it'll just go away on its own.
The Been Gals were everybody's sleeper pick this year, and they've done nothing but sleep. Sure they've put together a few good games against slop teams this year, but really they just have two colors: Red and Green. First of all, those are the colors of Christmas, the most hated and stankiest of all holy days. But aside from that, I've always hated teams that just rely on a couple of key players to be decent. Football is a team sport, and the pair of Sandy Ballston and AJ RJ DJ BJ Green is an insult to the sport. With no other supporting cast, these two are the sword crossing wiener buddies that win Best Actor and Best Supporting Actor in the same shitty movie that got overrated by the friggin Academy because it was some daring adventurous bullshit like Brokeback Mountain.
One thing I haven't touched on much with the Ohio Orifices is their mentally handicapped IQ level chant of "Who Dey." This shout is rivaled in stupidity only by the New Whorelin Taints "Who Dat," which is just an even lower intelligence version of the same shit. But honestly how on earth can anyone who proclaims to be of the Homo sapiens race utter these words without feeling like a total dipshit. The "Who Dey" retard mating call is often followed by the phrase "thank they gon' beat dem Bengals".
Atrocious display of grammar and pronunciation that would make ebonics look like a credible language aside, the irony is that EVERYONE thinks they gon' beat dem Bengals. And why shouldn't they. This team is the model of mediocrity. It's the perennial 8-8 meh-house that never impresses nor overly disappoints. The Bengals are like your dick after a long night of drinking. It won't get up all the way, but you might be able to get it in with a bit of effort. Just don't expect it to finish, and nobody will be satisfied.
There's a reason some jokes are old yet still in use, they are timeless classics that bear repeating. And boy oh boy do Cincinnati Prison Jokes never get old. They're like Edward Scissorhands, they just keep on ticking and providing rich fluffy snow year after year.
I managed to get my hands on a Cincinnati Department of Corrections Bengals Team Photo.
I could have literally filled a row with just Chris Henry.
I mean, even the KICKER got in trouble. Now granted that's happened to us to with Paper Towel Punisher Skippy Reed, but he was always a head case. Neil Rackers seems like a pretty chill fellow. I actually had to double google him, couldn't honestly believe that he too was arrested. DUIs are pretty common among Bengals players. If I played for the Bengals I'd probably drink and drive and hope I wrapped my car around a tree too.
My personal favorites are Eric Steinbach, for BUI, or Boating under the influence, which is the rich-white-trash man's version of the DUI. And of course the lovely miss Sarah Jones, who made a 15 year old's dreams come true and then got in trouble for it. From Kickers to Cheerleaders, there's not a position in the Bengals organization (and I use that term more loosely than Oprah's Va-jay-jay) that can't escape Johnny Law.
And this week, they won't be able to escape the Pittsburgh Steelers. We're looking for blood. We can almost taste it, now we just need to rip their stanky heads from their criminal bodies and drink it up. James Harrison is back to his wrecking ball self and he's going to tear through this O-line and make Andy Dalton his red haired butt slave for the entire afternoon. Ike Taylor may still have a boot on, but the Conquistador Cortez Allen and Troy Polamalu are gonna take Ass JIggler Green to the cleaners. And Big Ben is finally going to hit his rhythm and dominate this Bunghole Defense.
The Bengals are a shitty team, they're nothing more than imposters. They're 8-8 on the inside, so let's make sure that shows up on the outside. We've put an end to them before, and we can do it again. There's nothing that makes me sicker than seeing these jagoffs get into the playoffs. It's like letting a homeless man into a royal ball. You can't sit at our table, you can't even be our waiters. You're not fit to live on this planet, you Ohio-dwelling soap-dropping ugly ass uniform-wearing ginger-quarterbacking white trash fan-having monkey dong-sucking ankle-bracelet wearing disgusting chili-eating parole-ditching pieces of rancid mule shit! I hate the Bengals and they STANK. After murdering them mercilessly at Heinz Field, we'll take them to their shitty outdated stadium named after their rivals and bury them there. Then we shall sow salt into the turf so that no more can grow again, and the stadium will remain as empty and void of life as its very stands which never sell out. The Bungholes are perennial fuck ups, let's make sure that stays true this week!
As far as the rest of the league, there is but one game that interests me and draws my ire. The Vagiants take on the Stankiest of all stankers, the Ratbirds. Since Ray Rice defouled the Terrible Towel, the Ravens have descended into a vicious spiral of ass suck that was long overdue. This is probably the most overrated team in the AFC. As I told you guys, there's just ONE player on offense and ONE player on defense, and that one player on D is injured yet again. So basically it's Ray Rice or bust. Since Charlie Batch exacted our revenge, they've looked about as competent as a one handed juggler.
The beauty of all this is that the Steelers could actually still win their division, which would give us a home game. It would also give me the chance to attend said playoff game in person, bringing the Hate to the promised land. Should this happen, you can be assured of a victory against Andrew Suck and the Dolts.
The Vagiants will want a win to improve their seed position this week, and next week the Ratbirds play a Cincy team that will be fighting for their lives after we kick their asses this week. So essentially the shitty Purple Browns will be taking on two highly motivated opponents.
Men, women, children, animals, lovers and haters, I still believe in this team. Many of you have lost your way, and to this I say SHAME ON YOU. Faith is what holds us together. We shall rise up and overcome. We will get out from under the combat boots of oppression and fight for our right to kick ass in the postseason. I tell you today that we are not done yet, and we can get hotter than Kate Upton and tear the rest of the league a new gaping asshole, and then proceed to shove the Lombardi trophy up that asshole while flipping off Roger God-dell. Bring you hate, unite as one angry pissed off fanbase, and let's DESTROY THESE BASTARDS!!!! I HATE EM AND THEY STANK!!!
Of course there will be live hate this weekend regardless of the circumstances. It is necessary for victory. So join me @hatingtheleague and let's dominate some douchemongers. This is the beginning of a glorious run, lace up your sneakers and stretch your legs, there's plenty of football left ahead of us, and plenty of hate in my tank to keep us going.