Dear God: Thank You. No, Really. We're All Thanking God. Literally.

I may or may not have more to say about this in the coming weeks days hours, but for now -- and in case I never get around to it -- here's a great synopsis.

/also thanks baby Jesus, Christmas Ape
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Wednesday Whatnot: Random Link Dump

Don't ask. I don't know.

Chris over at Arrowhead Pride got engaged a while back, the result of which was handing the site reins over to his brother. Then he got married, the result of which was him dropping his first-post-of-the-day time back by three hours. The lesson: Getting married, while it may produce long-lasting love and happiness cough, wheeze, totally fucks with your blog. Anyway, the time-strapped former hub of AP shared this post with us. It's a nice find, and, well, it gives us yet another reason to thank Herm for a job well done in Kansas City.

Big Daddy Drew over at Kissing Suzy Kolber has apparently read Jon Krakauer's new book on Pat Tillman. Then he had some stuff to say about it. If you're the United States Army, this is not Men's Wearhouse material. I guarantee it.

As J. Kenneth K. over at Bronco Talk puts it, Denver fans might want to track down the homeslice behind this operation.

The Big Lead does not agree with Joe Posnanski's assertion that Albert Pujols is one of the greatest hitters of all time.

More no-huddle from the Chiefs? Kent Babb of The Kansas City Star thinks so.

Got Broncos-Chargers questions? Ask away. Actually, don't waste your time. Instead, head over to Awful Announcing and peep this shit: Rod Smith=good nosticator de prog, not too shabby at RickeySpeak, either.

That'll be the only time the Donkeys links out-appear those of the Chefs. Make it end now. I'm talking to you, Marm'.
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Friday Follow-Up: The Best Damn Thing Ever Written Period

If the Internets weren't spotted with great writers from which I could quote, I'm not sure what I'd do. Take Big Daddy Drew, for example. Love the guy. Never really got into his Peter King stuff over at Kissing Suzy Kolber, but most everything else he does rocks. His bits at Deadspin are no exception.

Take the "Why Your Football Team Sucks" series that's currently underway. Awesome. Yesterday's Green Bay Packers installment was phenomenal. I literally lost track of how many times I laughed out loud. When I was done, I considered writing to him to tell him about how much I hate the Denver Broncos. It turns out I was too late.

Some excerpts:

"I don't think I've ever seen an organization go from model franchise to baffling train wreck so quickly. Have you ever seen a new coach wear out his welcome faster than Josh McDaniels? Usually, it takes at least one regular season game before the fans start drunkenly calling for your big stupid head."

"The team just now suspended charming wife beater Brandon Marshall for the rest of the preseason for conduct detrimental to the team. Which leaves the Broncos a receiving corps of Eddie Royal and the cast of "Fame". It's a refreshing change from the days when the team brought in criminals like Maurice Clarett."

"During their late 90's Super Bowl title runs, the Broncos came to epitomize pretty much all of the annoying qualities of the Niners during their dynasty. Arrogant coach branded as some kind of genius/mastermind/guru/giant throbbing brain in a glass jar? Check. EXCESSIVE, ILLEGAL CUT BLOCKING? Check. Flagrant salary cap violations? Check. Lame end zone celebration? Check. (The Mile High Salute? Really?)"

"Sharpe won't visit his kids because he hates their mothers, but if he was a better dad, he'd feed them too much gravy and kill them. Awesome."

"The irony of John Elway's horseteeth and Shannon Sharpe's horseteeth together on a team with a Horse for a mascot, Terrell Davis' knees and braces, Barrelman, Fans shouting INCOMPLETE in unison...Fuck the Broncos, and fuck Colorado."

Hell. Fuck. Yeah. That's just what my Friday needed: A gigantic post of the shit I've always said in somebody else's handwriting.
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Tuesday Tidbits: Quite Possibly the Best StubTube Ever

Although, this one ain't too shabby, either:



(both clips courtesy of Kissing Suzy Kolber)
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More Monday Miscellany

Time for one more quickie here inside the House of Georges walls. I hadn't really spent much time in the CyberSpaces yet today, but when I did, there was a thing or two I couldn't pass up. So after the jump, get a mini-fix of 'Tubes, 'Nails.

The diamond deejays over at Bugs & Cranks have put together this pleasantry of Tommy Lasorda:



From Deadspin comes two newsworthy notes of interest:

1) The NY Daily News says that Gang Green wants its fans to yell "Jay-E-T-S Jets! Jets! Jets!"



We're anticipating this move to happen, and we're also going to start taking running bets on how long it takes Screamin' Jay to tell Suzy Kolber he wants to kiss her.

(Editor's Note: Speaking of SK, meant to link to this KSK post several days ago, since it has their second Todd Haley rant, and I'm sure there are many, many more to come. While the post, and frankly most of their content is pretty hilarious, I must mention that we, of course had that StubTube up first. Pricks.)

2) Apparently Curt Schilling has retired,



and apparently ESPN ran the story with a blockquote, all neat and tidy with Jose Canseco's picture in it.

That's about as unfortuneate as the Raiders opening their season on Monday Night Football for the third time in four years. Good gravy...
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Friday Afternoon Fracasita: More Updateage on The Messiah (with Update) (and more Update)

To cut down to it, the Kissing Suzy Kolbers, among others, have put together a couple of good posts this week regarding the sands-throught-the-hourglass riDonculism going on within the organization known as the Denver Broncos Football Club. Links to those posts, just after the jump.

Earlier in the week, the boys over at KSK weighed on the Josh McDaniels-Jay Cutler situation. Now they've straight up written an open letter about the scenario. Some dweezil over at SI thinks this could wind up being a positive, and I suppose it could. One of the fellas at Mile High Report wonders, much like our own Cecil has, if Cutler's agent Bus Cook isn't to blame for the whole thing. With Leather had an entirely different approach to the matter: They think he's gender confused. All I know is that if I'm Jay Cutler, putting on an orange-and-blue jersey beats the heck out of one that's periwinkle and silver.

I'm guessing that some light will finally be shed on this little cracked nest egg when they have their little pow-wow on Monday. Have a fantastic weekend, y'all.

(Update: Wait a minute. What. The fuck:

"With offseason workouts scheduled next week at Dove Valley and uncertainty about whether Jay Cutler will show up, the quarterback on Thursday put his multi-million dollar house in Parker up for sale. "

-- props to Arrowhead Addict)

(Update II: This guy listened to Rich Eisen today, who feels pretty certain that Cutler will be traded on draft day.)
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Thursday ThumbTubes & YouNails: 1-15-09

It's been a while since we perused the tubes of stubbyness, the nail bin you youity, and so we bring yous a small collection today, carefully assembled for your always-considered enjoyment. It's that post-hump-day, not-quite-Friday part of the week where, let's face it, we're all slackin' extra hard at the office.

But don't sweat it. You think those clowns care about you? You show up most days, with a less-than-illegal BAC, and you're easily productive on at least one out of every 10 work days. What's the big deal? Enjoy some sports. Some humor. Some spumor. Nobody's lookin', and even if they were, they might enjoy right along with you. Ya' gotta click the link, though.

Thus far in the playoffs, I've had a number of conversations with my buddies regarding who does the better job covering games: Fox or CBS. Frankly, I found myself repeatedly shocked to learn that such a debate was feasible. Apparently, some guys prefer Fox. Some guys also dig it for the Frank Caliendo bits. And some guys don't think Terry Bradshaw is a total flippin' 'tard. Who knew. There is one thing (among many others) that has always really pissed me off about Fox, though...



Honestly, I would've included more actual footage, just to show how retarded the thing is. Always.

(clip courtesy of With Leather)

We've made a few references recently to the (successful) shock value that goes into some of the posts over at Kissing Suzy Kolber. They're at it once again...











Hugging Harold Reynolds threw this up a few days ago:



Can't say I'm sorry I missed it. Can't say I'm happy I found it. What a tool.

Deadspin's got a great story on a dude who builds a backyard hockey rink for the kids every winter.



Pretty impressive facility. I'm sure all you hockey fans can appreciate that one.

For reasons we can't explain, Scuffed Balls has, via a couple of posts, put together a few snappy shots of the always-delectable, Mrs. Kurt Warner. And for reasons we really can't explain, we added a few of our own to the mix.

















And Chicago Bears fullback Jason McKie chats with Mouthpiece Sports about Adam Jones and Ron Mexico:



And that's about all we can handle today. We'll catch you kids on the flip side.
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Tradition Tuesday: Even in the Wildest of Week 17s, I Imagine It Would Behoove One to Ax Somebody

The rough focus of this blog is the rivalry between the Kansas City Chiefs and the Denver Broncos. We foolishly attend games at one another's stadiums each year, a gig we've had going for eight strong seasons. And by "strong," I mean consecutive. When we're not partaking of said elegance, we're busy bringing you The Tradition, our weekly state-of-the-rivalry address.

I'd be lying if didn't admit the inspiration that the Kissing Suzy Kolber clan has given me over the last two and-a-half years, and given how spanktacular things haven't been in the AFC West these last two seasons, their efforts regarding my division foes continue to stack up each week. While I've likely put together a lot of "work" here that was inspired by the blogkkaksters over yonder, I've never quite lifted an idea of theirs with the deliberance (Editor's Note: Patent pending.) that I will display this very morning. The reason for such is two-fold: I am an uninventive sloth with no sense of originality; and 60 percent of the time, it's damn funny stuff all the time. That said, kudos, as always, to them, and good luck, tho' I wishes it upon myself, to me.

It was 2008. The wind was rustling, the air brisk and heavy. A young, insulin-pack laden, pig-faced Indiana boy, graced with an arm strength greater than Marino, Montana, and Elway combined fondled his imaginary six-shooter, his eye on a prize...

(breeze picks up a bit; music spills out of nearby saloon)



"I'm gonna rope this baby



in easier than some Santa Claus 'tang on a Saturday night..."



"Not so fas-- (leg snaps and crumbles as he goes to stand from his saloon-porch table) Oww!" (fastens stretcher out of two chairs; lays down)



"YOU BUMBLING TWATS! DON'T YOU KNOW A FUCKETY FUCK ABOUT THIS FUCKING GAME SCHEME! THAT'S NOT EVEN A REAL TROPHY. THAT'S SOME COCKAMAMIE HORSE CRAP THAT EDWARDS MADE UP TO GET HIS SORRY-ASS TEAM (makes Marmalardish finger quotes) MOTIVATED."



"Hey now, Phil. That's not very n--"

Rivers: "SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU NEVER-COORDINATIN', SWEET-POTATO PIE EATIN' WORD MAKER-UPPER! CUTLERFUCKER -- DON'T YOU KNOW ANYTHING, YOU VANDERBILT DIPSTICK? WE WANT THIS ONE...



...AND THEN THIS ONE!"





(whispers to self) "Geez. Dunno what he's so mad about."

Rivers: "I HEARD THAT, YOU LITTLE GLAZED-DOUGHNUT FACED SHIT DICK! DON'T YOU EVER MURMUR UNDER YOUR BREATH ABOUT THE MARMANATOR! THE MARMANATOR IS ALL POWERFUL ALL THE TIME. HE CONTROLS THE NORV TURNER. HE CONTROLS THE MIKE SHANAHAN. HE CONTROLS THE GOODELL. HE EVE--

(earth rumbles; glasses fall from Croyle's table, shatter; Rivers and Cutler clutch nearby support beams)



"SILENCE, you pathetic bait-for-Eli fuck stain! How dare you interrupt my workout with your visions of grandeur?! You shall suffer the consequences..." (adjusts scoreboard of already decided contest, then instantly vanishes to write letter of apology to saloon owner for broken glasses)



(searches for words to describe the bone-crackling sound of his about-to-explode skull) "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"



"Hey, guys. What was that noise? Is everybody ok--" (dislocates, wrist, elbow and shoulder with interrogatory shrug) "Ouch!" (scampers at snail's pace back into saloon)



(peeks head out of saloon doors) "Yo, WonderBreads. Either uh y'all got a match?"

Cutler and Rivers: "SHADDUP!"



"Dudes! Y'all gots to see this. Check it out..."

(slowly, diligently removes killing instrument for Marmalard/Cutlerfucker slaying from within skeleton)

"Y'all are never gonna believe it. Somebody showed me this. I's laughin' for days."

(saloon side door flies open; Edwards emerges in sweater vest)

"Tyler! Hey, Tyler. It's Herman. Your head coach, Herman. You know that new fly sound you was talkin' about? Well, listen to THIS."



(mix tape hits Thigpen in temple, dropping him in the dust; weapon of destruction clanks upon a stone, shimmers in the AFC sun; Rivers spies it, makes way toward it while observing Cutler enjoying some Cool Ranch Doritos)



(tumbleweeds whip by; music inside resumes)...
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Thursday ThumbTubes and YouNails: 8-28-08

It's another lovely Thursday here in the Middle West, and the final pre-season Chiefs game will have happened when we wake up tomorrow. That, of course, means that we'll be fully prepared to travel to Foxboro one week from Sunday, and Denver of course, will square off with Lane Kiffin and his Black Hole. Good, good times we simply can't wait for.

Until then, other stuff will happen, people will write about it, and we'll link to them. 'Cause that's just how goddamn good we are here at the House of Georges. Brimming with originality. Overwhelmed by our own creative sides. Let's look at some samples.

I usually stop by the WithLeathers at least daily. Why? Because they write some pretty funny stuff on a pretty regular basis. Today's no exception:

NFL - Shawne Merriman, possessing the natural intelligence of any former Terp, has decided to forgo surgery in favor of playing with torn ligaments in his left knee. This is a guy who plays in the same division as the Broncos, even. Enjoy being cut down permanently by that first chop-block, big guy.

I also pop in to the KSKs frequently. I've secretly been awaiting their AFC West preview for some time now, and today they finally delivered it. Analysis? Color me disappointed. I mean, it actually sucks horse scrotum. Now, they are a humor site, and they ain't tryin' to be serious about much, but come on, fellas. Highlights, if you could call them that, are as such:



Chiefs:

QB Brodie Croyle lost all six games that he started last season. He played his college football at Alabama, where he perfected his unique, ellipically-shaped haircut, which he refers to simply as “Follicle Village...Star linebacker Derrick Thomas died suddenly in 2000, so look for him to see reduced action this year.”

Really? That's all you got? Oh, wait. There is this:

Look for Herm and the crew to tie their first 11 games and then back into a nice, Top-10 draft pick for 2009. You heard it here first.

Alright. That's kind of funny.

Broncos:

"Before this past offseason, Brandon Marshall once cut his hand on a toaster oven after a angry discussion that began with an excessively hot Cherry Pop Tart. In fact, many of the appliances in Marshall’s home meet in the living room on Tuesdays for group therapy sessions...Head coach Mike Shanahan has been with the Broncos for so long, the Denver Post has a historical back page feature called “Before That Rat-Faced Fuck Ran John Elway Out Of Town...The city of Denver is 5,280 feet above sea level, and roughly 7,000 feet above reality."

Partially funny, but nothing extraordinary.

And since football season is as near to beginning as it could possibly be, there's this gem, courtesy of Hugging Harold Reynolds:



In Kansas City baseball news, the talk radios were saturated with one story in particular yesterday. It involved Royals' outfielder Jose Guillen. When the Royals offered Guillen the largest contract in franchise history this past off-season, many folks deemed the deed a mistake, claiming that he has a history of being a team cancer, and that that is evidenced by his playing for eight ball clubs in nine years. I have no idea what they're talking about, personally. I've not seen, or heard of any issues involving him this season. Moving on...



(clip courtesy of The Big Lead)

Big League Stew links to this Chicago Tribune story in which the case in point centers on an all-Chicago World Series,



which apparently spells doom for the NL variety of Illinois baseball. Who knew?

Anyway, the Governer's Cup is getting underway, with America's favorite Crimson Tide alum Brodie Croyle taking snaps for the good guys, which means I'm out.
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Fark-tastic

Um. In the category of things ultra-freaking-hilarious, the handiwork of ThatGuy_67 over on the Fark network is a mere one of many photoshop experiments of New England's precious quarterback that you must check out here a.s.a.p. Apparently, Mr. Brady is a much better golfer than any of us HoGers because we've never in our collective lives hit a shot that warranted such a Kodak moment.

For real.

I mean we're good. Really good, even. But still eons away from that good.



We've been known to do the occasional fist pump and/or bump. Seldom do we high five. And never do we make dorky-looking solo tango moves, especially in front of a loaded camera. Unlike #12, we're modest about our golf skills; we almost never find reason to boast our handicap or re-count an afternoon on the course. Just not how we roll.

Photo courtesy of Fark via Kissing Suzy Kolber. Read more