VIKING QUEST!

Adrian Peterson is from another planet. I think we all agree on that. I’m talkin’ one of those planets where ammonia flows in the rivers.

But after his recent output in week 14 against those lowly gold prospectors from San Francisco, we all pondered how he got stomped just like disco did by the hippies.

14 carries for 9 feet!

We thought we were seeing things! That was until we figured out why he sucked so bad in that game and perhaps in future games to come.

Adrian started having fears, or nightmares if you will, about being asked to be on the cover of Madden ‘09.

I don’t blame him, I wouldn’t want to end up like Garrison Hearst and the other Madden-cursed schlubs either.

That’s pretty much the only thing that’s really slowing him down now as he cruises to Rookie of the Year. That is as long as he forgets about the Madden Curse and slips on a ball like Henry Rowengartner.

I EAT FASTBALLS FOR BREAKFAST

We are all familiar with this attractive redhead from her role as the ESPN reporter who NEVER BLINKS (Look at all of her YouTube videos, not one bat of the eye), and who finishes off each of her segments by saying …

” … from such and such, i’m Rachel Nichols … E-S PEE OENNNNNNNN”

But what else do we really know her? And most importantly how did she get to where she is at right now?

To answer this question, I dug and I dug deep. Similarly to what the entire High School football team did to her in a sleazy hotel room on prom night.

My research started off at Winston Churchhill High School In Potomac, Maryland. It is no coincidence that Rachel chose a High School named after a man that derived most of his pleasure from smoking long phalic items in his spare time. For this is where Rachel found her niche in life.

Sucking alot of fucking dick.

I mean alot, she really really got down with smoking some major pole.

It is no coincidence that she was her class valedictorian, for the A+’s on her report card were written with the semen of her male teachers.

Her knack for slobbing the knob earned her the right to be accepted to the prestigous Northwestern University, just outside of Chicago. A city well known for thier extra large sausages and wieners.

It was at Northwestern where Rachel really got down and dirty. Rachel sucked a total of 10,931 cocks in her four years at Northwestern, swallowing and loving each load equally.

When she wasn’t ingesting baby batter, she was receiving tremendous loads on her face. Rachel was often seen at lecture halls with semen dripping from her eyebrows. On some occasions fellow students could not recognize Rachel as she was said to be wearing what looked like a white mask on her face.

After college Rachel got a chance to go for her dream job as she was flown to Bristol Conneticut to be interviewed at ESPN Headquarters.

Rachel flubbed a few lines during an on screen test, and ESPN associates told her “Better luck next time”.

While walking out disheartened, she bumped into Stuart Scott in a nearby corridor. Rachel gestured that he should join him in a nearby janitors closet to “talk”.

It has been said that during this encounter, Nichols managed to suck Scott’s dick, lick his balls, and suck a fart out of his asshole all at once.

Nichols won the job on the spot, and now Scott who was dumb-founded by Rachel’s uncanny ability, now has permanently googly eyes.

Finally to answer the question as to why Nichols never blinks on camera … well let’ just say that there is something that is 12 inches hanging behind the camera, and it isn’t a sound mic.

I think I’m falling in love all over again.

In the wake of last night’s exhilarating victory over the Nuggets at MSG, a sense of optimism and let’s face it, pure joy, has found its way into the hearts and souls of New York Knickerbocker fans. I can’t remember the last time I felt this good about these guys.

Of course, the 2007-08 season is a newborn one, and the Knicks are only 2-1, but reasons abound as to why there is actually hope for the immediate future. First off, THANK GOD Zeke did not pull the trigger on a trade that would have sent either David Lee or Renaldo Balkman to the Kings for Ron Artest. Along with Nate Robinson, this trio off the bench is one of the best in the NBA, if not THE best. Certainly No. 1 in energy brough to the table. Balkman was a vision in last night’s game, being referred to as a “fireball” in today’s New York dailies. Although his stat line may not indicate it, Balkman may be more of a reason for the victory than any of the four 20-point scorers — Steph, Craw, Zebo and Curry.

Clearly, Isiah Thomas made the right call when opting to trade Channing Frye as opposed to the other three marquee draft picks from 2005 and 2006. Simply put, Frye was a “pussyface” that brought nothing to the table. Kurt Thomas was never a “great” player when he was with the Knicks, but his toughness, attitude and the “crazy eyes” moniker more than made up for it. Frye essentially replaed KT at the 4, leaving us with a “pussyface” instead of “crazy eyes.” Not a good trade off.

Pussyface lets loose a queef.

Astoundingly, we managed to land Zach Randolph by trading away Pussyface and Steve Francis. Wow. Already, that is looking like the trade of the decade. Zebo has already posted double-doubles in his three games donned in Orange and Blue, and has positively answered any doubts about the effectiveness of the tandem formed with center Eddy Curry. Together, the two have formed a new incarnation of the Natural Disasters.

Mirroring the failure of the WWF’s initial attempt at a Natural Disasters duo, Zeke’s idea of pairing Jerome James and Curry failed miserably. Both were simply too big together, with James acting as the gimp a la Andre “the Giant” at the end of his career. Curry needed another fatboy, just one not as fat as him. Enter Zebo as Typhoon. The analogy fails with Randolph not having been as friendly in Portland as Tugboat, but fuck it, he’s Typhoon with the Knicks now.

It’s just unfortunate that Jimmy Hart isn’t around to drill Jerome James in the knee with a motorcycle helmet.

Kudos to Isiah for tightening the rotation and sticking with the 8-man rotation. Barring any injuries, I don’t want to see anyone besides the troika of Nate, Lee and Balkman entering the game. OK, so Fred Jones (is he just a shrunken Kelvin Cato?) got some playing time, and that’s fine. When Jared Jeffries is healthy, he’ll probably be needed to spell Q at the 3, too. But no one else, and that especially goes for Malik Rose.

I do not — repeat, DO NOT — want to see him ever taking his warm-ups off. I have no idea what he brings to the game (besides his “Toro!” move that gets big men to fall down) and he really has no place or position on the court. PAINT THAT FUCKING WARM-UP ON LIKE IT’S THE SI SWIMSUIT ISSUE!

That is all for now … Viva Los Knickerbockers!

Discuss with ZubazPants.com …

They get throttled on the field by behemoths and get their balls squeezed by the vice like hands of Mike Vrabel. But who caresses their broken bodies on Monday?And who massages their balls on Tuesday?

It is none other than the WIVES OF THE NFL.

So come along with us and take a sneak peak into the lives of these women as we meander through their 2-d portraits …

After strolling to the corner patisserie for tea and crumpets, Thomas and Gisele returned to their abode to shit all over eachother.

“Ho, get the fuck behind me!” Daunte spat through clenched teeth. “I can’t be seen in public with no bitch that looks like a fucking soda can!”

“Bald prick … ,” muttered Mrs. Matt Hasselbeck. “If this were 1940, I’d be massaging Hitler’s one ball instead.”

“David took so many hits in the pocket that even David Jr. was effected … “
**Piss trickles down her back**
“He even has happy dick like Papa Carr!”

“In the Matrix, we know ‘Where da white women at,’” bellowed David Garrard.

Former Arizona punter Danny Baugher went straight to the bottle, fast food and violence after he was cut from Bill Bellichick’s Communist Army.

Erle Baugher, 54, his left eye red and swollen where his allegedly drunken son Danny apparently socked him during a dust-up in a deserted Hanover parking lot Thursday, told a cop the young man “was released by the New England Patriots yesterday (Aug. 29) and he was not handling it very well,” according to a police report.

Belichick, known to uproot families with his adulterous teeth, has changed his focus toward inciting domestic violence.

Coach Belichick always says he has to make a lot of decisions on a daily basis and he always tries to make the decision that’s best for the football team,” Patriots spokesman Stacey James said.

“I don’t get the sense that (Baugher’s release) was anything non-football-related,” James said.

This is my take on it …

Bill, coming from the Karl Marx tree of coaching, saw Baugher as a wild card in the mold of Jim Morrison. It was only a time before he exposed himself at Sully’s Pub, while cranking out a wild karaoke rendition of Crystal Ship. Bill did the sensible, steel curtain kinda thing.

Shaquille ‘The Balls Of The 90’s’ O’Neal has filed for divorce after five injury plagued seasons with wife Shuanie.

Hearkening back to the words of the new black messiah, Kanye West, Shaq made sure to write out a prenuptial agreement. However, it is L.A. Confidential.

The couple has four children together and live in a nearly $20 million home on exclusive Star Island. They were married in Beverly Hills in 2002 while Shaq was playing for the Lakers. They have a confidential prenuptial agreement.

But what the fuck do you think was in that pre-nup?

Well, we mused on that question, eventually re-writing a verse and chorus of Kanye’s ‘Gold Digger’ with a hint of Kazzam thrown into the mix. In our minds — since we were perverted young kids — we always thought the biggest issue in a Shaq relationship would be intercourse. Come on, you just know that poor Shaunie’s pussy bottoms out when she walks over speed bumps.

So, this rap is centered around Shaq not being able to take a shallow vag. He needs something XL to really SLAM!

It is titled … ‘Shaq Against A Shallow Vag Digger’

Now I ain’t sayin’ she a shallow vag digger (When I SLAM there ain’t no time for cuddlin’)
But she ain’t messin’ wit no Porky the Pigga (She best use lube)
Now I ain’t sayin’ she shallow vag digger (When I’m in need)
But she ain’t messin’ wit no broke Porky the Pigga (I gotta DEEP when I SLAM)
Get down girl, go ‘head get down (I gotta SLAM)
Get down girl, go ‘head get down (I gotta SLAM)
Get down girl, go ‘head get down (I gotta SLAM)
Get down girl, go ‘head

[Verse 1:]
[Jamie Foxx’s lyrics repeated across verse]
Cutie an IED
Met her at an open bar PBA danceathon
With a baby wabbit! Under her under arm
She said I can tell you SLAM!
I can tell by ya baggy pants, maskin’ what you got

Far as girls you best gots a big vag
I can tell by ya charm and ya arm
But I’m lookin’ for the SLAM, ain’t no and one charity stripe case
Zen Phil told me she’ll have a vag like Niagra Falls
Kobea, Kobecca, four kids at a time poppin’ out
An’ I gotta take all they bad ass to Genie night at Chuckie Cheese
Okay get ya kids but then they got they friends
I pulled up in the entry level cruiser, they all got up in
We all went to din and then I had to keep eating till Jay Mariotti made a quip
If you fuckin’ with this girl then you betta’ feed him raid
You know why
Take too much lube to SLAM! her
From what I heard she got a baby by looking in Dan Patrick’s defeatist eye
My best friend say she used to fuck with Scott Van Pelt, that sensitive crusher
I don’t care what none of y’all say I still the digger of that shallow vag.

Time for an update on James Dolan and the pussy handlers at MSG.

James Dolan — otherwise known as the new king of smut — and the MSG empire have released some footage from the ‘Making of the New York City Dancers’ documentary.

MSG, who have grown tired of airing their 50 greatest moments — in the once hallowed halls — of Madison Square Garden, have resorted to selling their only viable product … ASS.

Believe it or not, there was actually a time when you had to get into the Garden to get a sneak peek at Patrick Ewing’s hoes. But now, since the Knicks are resigned to having Zen Marbury as their headstrong leader, the focus has gone from inside the arena to the television set, where they will attempt to keep you cumming back for more with their own special brand of skin-emax.

Now, I’m not completely against this. It’s tits and ass. Not too big of a stretch for the ape man in all of us. However, seeing that these chicks are making DIRT each game — my estimate is $75 — and are being exploited as a product — which is far more aesthetically pleasing than what is being displayed on the court — is just wrong.

I guess, what it comes down to, is that the Knicks — as a professional basketball team — cannot hold a candle to the ass that shakes during halftime and timeouts.

It is a sad day to be a Knicks fan. Not only are women being used in Dolan’s attempts at deflecting attention off the rotting corpse that is the Knicks, but we, as men, are being teased with ass to subvert the real heart of the matter.

In short: James Dolan has created a peep show for hollowed out Knicks fans, who, by god’s grace, still have balls after being pummeled in them repeatedly throughout the years.

Yesterday’s clubbing of the Baltimore Orioles got me thinking about how an individual’s perception of a franchise is shaped by when somebody is born. The O’s went 1-2 in three straight World Series from 1969-1971 with two more appearances in 1979 and 1983. I’m sure in my father’s mind, the Orioles were a model franchise now fallen on hard times.

But for me, they’ve pretty much always sucked because to their mediocre-to-terrible play since I became aware of baseball. I was three in 1983, so that last World Series appearance is rather irrelevant. Ten straight losing seasons since 1997 obliterates that “ancient” World Series success.

The New York Islanders are a similar case. They won four consecutive Stanley Cups from 1980 to 1983. Since then, “garbage” is a polite term for that franchise over the past 15 seasons. Again, model franchise fallen on hard times from my father’s perspective. Puke bucket franchise from my perspective. Those four Cups might as well occurred in the 18th Century.

 What other franchises fit the above model?

What about a franchise from your youth that was great (Toronto Blue Jays, Buffalo Bills), but has since “fallen on hard times”?

A brief, non-sports related interlude for your Wednesday morning. Because their interns needed something to do, Forbes.com ranked the best cities for singles in the United States. Many factors that decided the overall rankings (job growth, nightlife, cost of living, etc.) San Francisco-Oakland was ranked best for singles. Providence, RI was ranked worst out of 40 cities. Buffalo ranked 31st. However, one category that determined the overall ranking was the ever-amorphous “Coolness.”

Buffalo is 15th coolest city for you single guys and gals. (Las Vegas was #1, Columbus, OH was #40).

A brief list of cities Buffalo beat out in “Coolness”:

Miami (#16)
Austin (#18)
New Orleans (#19)
San Antonio (#20)
St. Louis (#21)
Virginia Beach-Norfolk (#23)
Pittsburgh (#24)
Houston (#28)
Phoenix (#30)

Who needs sexy, young kids in tight-fitting clothing when the alternative is bleu cheese and Hiroshima-like muffin tops?

Go Bills.

Whether it’s Terrell Owens, Barry Bonds or Mike Vick, ESPN always has something not having ANYTHING to do with sports highlights jammed up in your face. When I eat my bowl of cereal before work, I want to see what happened during the GAMES last night. I want to see balls getting hit out of a stadium with a stick. I want to see balls getting thrown through hoops. I want to see balls getting kicked through goal posts.

Is this so much to ask?

I used to watch SportsCenter to escape from it all, now all I get is an endless loop of Vick — or whoever the current schmuck of the day is — walking in and out of buildings with a bunch of jackasses in tow.

Please make it stop.

Please, let’s go back to the old days … (NSFW)

I’m sorry, that’s what happens to the brain after ESPN launches one of its all-out assaults and has every single person that can form a syllable weighing in on the controversy du jour.

Please guys, just give me some fucking sports highlights. That’s what fucking ESPN is there for. No one gives a flying fuck what a wash-up like Joe Horn thinks about Vick. I think I even heard Bozo the fucking Clown dish out his 2 cents on the subject this morning.

At least we know what a sick fuck he is now …

“The dogs know what happens if they lose, but are still living. Oh yes, they know. BANG BANG, Fido!”