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Last week, we touched on a concept deemed controversial by some; a variation of football that consists primarily of dozens of men getting raped for sport. As a result, my Beachwood inbox enjoyed what can be tactfully deemed "generous amounts of feedback."
By which I actually mean, 450 gigabytes worth of nude photo e-mail attachments.
All of them featuring man parts.
Occasionally, the content of the e-mail was nearly fit for print.
Sup bro, I'm in Australia twice a year for business and I'm pretty sure that "Assbee" is the sport you were talking about. It's like rugby, except the losing team has to participate in what they call a "Rooberry Squirt" at the end of the match. See, they feed a bunch of Hollywood Diet to a kangaroo and after they poke it with a cattle prod, the captain has [edited for content]. Anyway, I know where you live. See my dong, attached." -Senõr Trent Delgado, Manassas GA
Not crazy about the shot of your bang hanger, but I do appreciate the flair you bring to the game. That is one creative use of a sombrero.
Hey Kool-Aid Man! The Bears are gonna run the Vikings right back to Newfoundland! How much you wanna bet the Bears are gonna win! They're gonna win! They're gonna win! I love cocaine! Crash bing boom bang! AP can run All Day but I can do rails all night . . . TONIGHT! I put cocaine in my red Kool-Aid instead of sugar! I love cocaine! Can I get in on that game you're putting together? The one with the dudes? We can all be dude friend! We can be dude blow dude friends! Come on Bennett, LET'S PARTY! " -Sir Dr. David Lee Camacho III Esq., Los Angeles CA
OH YEAH! I don't think this guy meant to send me a nude photo, but he was wearing nothing but a ski mask and clutching a broken wooden spoon. I hope that thing is red from stirring Kool-Aid.
Devin Hester has a concussion, Matt Forte and Peanut Tillman have ankles, Lance Briggs has a boot, Jay Cutler has a lip ferret, Lance Louis has the rest of the year off, Santana ain't got nobody he can depend on and grandma got run over by a reindeer, buuuuuuuut, watching football doesn't make my eyes hurt anymore.
Good enough! Thanks Bears!
We haven't talked much about Brandon Marshall here at the Kool-Aid Report because, as you may have noticed the last couple of weeks, we spend enough time stroking guys off.
Marshall has been as good or better than we all could have dreamed. A true number one, game-changing, speedy behemoth who does nothing but smile and catch.
This week may be his biggest test. An amphetamine-fueled (allegedly) pair of shutdown corners (also "allegedly," I don't watch a lot of game film to prep for this column) whose ancestors were loggers and fur traders who invented the rain slicker and perfected marketing techniques related to coffee grounds (I'm assuming football players are drafted by geography and heritage, I don't watch minor league pigskin).
For the sake of quick, pointless tangents, I want to pose a question to the readership.
Are these hot pants designed to evoke the image of a camel toe?
Kool-Aid (3 Out of 5 Cups Of Coffee With Two Ounces Of Whiskey In Each Cup)
I know the game is in Chicago. Shut up.
One more win and the Bears will match the total of last year's Super Bowl champion.
I think they'll do it. The Bears have proven several times this year that they can win even when running backs in Beast Mode can tear off huge chunks of yards like so much mutton.
The Bears offense finally wakes up like they're being compensated to score points, and Eric Weems runs forward to score a touchdown. Take note, Hester. The end zone is that-a-way.
"C" is for "cookie," but "Sea" is for "cakewalk."
That's good enough for me.
Carl Mohrbacher is our man on the Kool-Aid. He welcomes your comments.