The Texans were (supposedly) bigger and stronger and cocklier. The Colts were (supposedly) smaller and weaker and inept. But then they played and holy fuck.

Had the Texans won, I was going to upload this very stylistic food web based on cock size, with Arian Foster and Andre Johnson serving as tertiary consumers, of course. Instead, they lost. So Little Liston and I put this together. It's a slideshow that serves as an allegory for the game. It stars myself (representing The Texans) and Little Liston (representing The Colts).

It also guest stars Woody from Toy Story. Ostensibly, he only represents Woody from Toy Story, but maybe he also serves as a metaphor for something or about something else entirely; the playoffs, winning, legacy, whatev. I'm not certain. I just know that including him was the only way I could get Little Liston to do what I wanted him to do. I'm on some Quentin Tarantino shit, yo.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/larami/sets/72157625301456096/show/ 

S

 

Ack. What an awful-then-wonderful game that was (I feel like I should maybe make some kind of comparison between it and Seven Pounds, that Will Smith movie that supersucked for the first hour and 45 minutes then was good the last fifteen, but I didn't pay close enough attention to know that that's actually how it played out; sorry). I wrote two recaps; one that started at the beginning of the game and one that started with 0:28 seconds left in the fourth quarter. The first: 

• When the Texans got the ball back at the end of the first quarter (with them trailing, naturally), that one mouthy, excitable commentator dramatically remarked, “And here comes Matt Schaub.” I suppose it was a statement meant to foster a sense of tension, but at this point it’s about as fierce as saying, “And here comes a bowl of marshmallows.”
• Hey, coach. It’s 3rd and 2. What do you want to run? Let’s go with a curl route for Andre Johnson. Ummm, you know we have the league’s leading rusher, right? We do? Hmmm. Fuck it, I already called the play in. Let's see what happens. 
• Hey, coach. It’s 3rd and 22. What do you want to run? Let’s go with 35 dive, with Leech at the two and Foster at the three. Ummm, you know we have the best wide receiver in the league, right? We do? Fuck it, I already called the play in. Let's see what happens.
• The one good thing about watching the Texans bumble these games away: Gary Kubiak’s squinty-eyed, frumpled-brow “This HAS To Be The Game That Gets Me Fired” face. He officially broke it out last season before quietly tucking it away when they went on that end-of-season run last year, but it’s been showing up more and more frequently since Week 3 of this season. It's my second-favorite face of the new season, losing only to Tony Romo's perpetual, "Hey, Hey, Coach Just Called A Fly Route, Right? Cool. Umm, What's A Fly Route?" face.
• My wife, as she is occasionally wont to do, watched, maybe, three minutes of the game (it was the second quarter and the Texans were down 14-7, but had just gotten the ball back). On their first play, someone broke threw and got a sack on Schaub. My wife, naturally, went to here default question: "Why'd they let him do that?" Now, normally, this is where I'd lose my shit; she loves asking this question, as though an offensive lineman would allow someone to break through the O-line or a point guard would allow someone to knock the ball from his hands or a shortstop would allow the ball to squirt out of his glove on a routine ground ball. But when she said it this time, after watching Kubiak call curious play after curious play these past few weeks, I honestly thought to myself, "Why would they let him do that?" Fuckin' Kubes is scrambling my man-brain, man.
• 167: That's the number of obscenities I shouted at the TV that Bryan would've chastised me for. It's also the number of times I've pictured Arian Foster's dong doing something amazing like climbing a mountain or making jerky or shooting a bow and arrow. More importantly though, it's also the number of points the Texans have given up this season.

Notes from the review that I wrote at the 0:28 mark of the fourth quarter:

• YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYIIIIPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

P.S. If you don't think I had a boner when I realized that the pass Schaub lofted towards the end zone was headed for Andre Johnson's hands, then I don't know what. We're talking diamond-hard, folks. I'm actually typing out this post script with it.  

 

P.P.S. After Schaub scrambled around and then threw the game-winning touchdown, the non-mouthy, unexcitable commentator remarked, “Great teams, great players, do things you can’t coach.” I’m almost certain that this is Kubiak’s coaching philosophy.

 

 

I started watching the game today. But then I stopped. Because it was making me sad. So I turned the channel to a showing of Nic Cage's The Rock on Encore. It was way better. I hadn't seen that movie in, like, at least ten years. Some notes:

• Prior to the game, the wife and I took my 3-year-old sons to this pumpkin patch at a nature center down the street from my house. As part of the celebration, they were offering horse-drawn wagon rides for $3 a piece. One of the horses pulling one of the wagons had a massive cock. When I saw it, the first thing I thought was, “Man, I hope Arian Foster has a good game today.” I figured it was a sign from God (if I were God, I would only ever deliver holy miracles and messages through big cock imagery; the Book of Genesis would've been a lot more interesting, that's for certain). It appears I was incorrect. Or maybe it was a sign (we're about to get totally effed), only I interpreted it wrong. I don't know. Either way, I think the moral here is clear: Never look a gift horse cock in the mouth. Or something.  

• Did you know the black guy from Candyman is in The Rock? Yup, he's one of Ed Harris's main bizarro-marines. So is Dr. Cox from Scrubs. And that Mexican from Training Day that talks about getting his poo pushed in. How did Ed Harris really expect for that mission to turn out well with those guys on his team?

• When Sean Connery first leads the good-guy marines (who eventually get slaughtered, which is a bit of bizarre commentary) through the tunnels of Alcatraz, he makes a gang rape joke. His accent makes it sound surprisingly regal. I was too young to appreciate the complexity of that situation when I saw this movie the first time.

• I flipped back to the game for a minute right around the midway point of the second quarter. I think the score was 94-0. I'm not certain. I was too busy crying to really get a good look at it.

• In the brief time watching the game, I did notice that Cushing was back. How are we supposed to feel about this? Am I to act like I don't know that he's still juiced up? Am I to accept him back because he served his sentence? Can things ever be not weird? In high school I got caught cheating on my then-girlfriend. She was pissed at me for a few weeks, but eventually took me back. She'd say things were okay, but it seemed pretty obvious that she still actively hated me. It was horrible. I convinced her to let me cum on her chest, and then I summarily broke up with her the following day. I know one thing: I'm sure as shit not letting Brian Cushing cum on my chest.

• I feel like maybe every movie should feature a bookish counter-hero cast into the role of awkward action hero. It's always never not funny. You can't tell me Maid In Manhattan wouldn't have been better if there was a guy in it who didn't know how to work a gun but was suddenly thrust into a situation where he not only needed to use one, but needed to use it with stunning accuracy so as to not have a room full of hostages die.

Ack. If we lose to the Chiefs, I swear to I will cut off my pinky. That is a fact*.

 

Please, God, send me a sign that the Texans will still make the playoffs. Please. Please send me a cock-themed sign. Thank you.

 

*Not a fact.

Yup, yup. Seventh and eigth graders. It's cool. I've coached before and I've always enjoyed it. I'm successful because I follow a few simple rules. They are as such:

1. Find a team that was real shitty the year before. It's preferable that they are very disrespectful, kind of intimidating, poor, and do not have positive father figures in their lives. (Read: Black kids; Puerto Ricans or Mexicans might work too if you're in a pinch.)

2. Say, "Hey, I'm the new coach. We're going to be doing things differently around here." and then make them sign a contract or something.

3. Be losing or whatever in the beginning of the game and then comeback and win. Say, "Way to go."

4. Go through some turmoil or something. Kick a kid off the team.

5. Laugh at how different their musical tastes are than yours (people are defined by the type of music they listen to).

6. Learn about them and love them. Say to your significant other, "I know you have an agenda. I had an agenda to, and it didn't involve falling in love with these kids, but I did so now my agenda has changed."

7. Have one of them die; it's good to have something the team can rally around or whatever.

8. Have a cardboard cutout of a person they do not like, and everytime you win a game you take a piece of the cardboard cutouts clothes off. (This works best for baseball teams, especially if you have Wesley Snipes and Charlie Sheen on your team.)

9. Have the kid that was previously kicked off the team show up at your house or at practice. He should cry and say, "I got no place else to go. I got no.... place..... else...... to....... go." Then everyone gathers around him and chants, "Go Team!" or something like that.

10. Play the school's rival and lose by one or two points in some heartbreaking manner. Tell the kids that it's not about winning, it's about growing as men or whatever and say how much better they are as people now then when the season started.

11. Then show still shots of the people on the team with writing underneath explaining what happened to that particular person in the future.

I pray everyday. Praying is awesome. You can pray for anything and if God likes you then he will give it to you. It's like when you visit some hussy's live web cam show to watch her masturbate and on the toolbar there is a "wish list" of things she'd like people to buy for her. Praying is just like that, except with God. One time I prayed for my penis to be bigger and two days later my grandpa died. So don't pray for your penis to grow bigger or your grandpa will die. I learned that the hard way.

The Texans lost. Cry, cry, cry.

Nice work, sirs. I'm sure our collective cheers is what helped pushed this inevitable L to an inspiring W. Some thoughts I jotted down between watching the game/ignoring my family entirely:

• Man, Donovan McNabb? I’ve always appreciated that guy. I felt horrible for him when they lost in the Super Bowl against Tom Brady’s Winning Smile. And I rooted my balls off for McNabb last week against the Cowboys. But this week? I was firing off all kinds of venomous slights at him like I was goddamn Rush Limbaugh. I'm pretty certain some of the things I said today will be replayed back to me at my final judgement day. Ack.
• Man, the secondary? The Texans’ secondary isn’t so great. I mean, they put up as much a fight against guys looking to score as teenage Mexican girls do. I’m surprised the whole lot of ‘em isn’t pregnant.
• Man, third downs? I feel like maybe at some point during the first three quarters someone should’ve sat the defense down and explained to them that an offensive series is four downs, not three. Jesus, they were awful on third downs, weren’t they? It’s like the d-line would huddle up after each second down and be like, “Yo, that was a lot of fun. Let’s go ahead and let them convert this 3rd and 41 so we can shut them down on first and second down again. Deal? Great. 'Defense' on three. One, two, three... BREAK!”
• Man, Jacoby Jones’ hands? Is there something wrong with them? Like, are they coated in jelly or something? I actually ran into Jones one night at this glitzy night club on Washington Avenue this past summer. I tried to have a conversation with him but it was impossible. Because he couldn’t hold it. Ba-dum tsssh.
• Man, Andre Johnson? Someone should definitely start a never ending “…with his cock” thread. I want to get a tattoo of Andre Johnson’s cock on my own cock. And I want Andre Johnson to do it. With his cock.
• Man, cocks? That previous bullet has a high Cock To Non-Cock ratio. Sorry, Bryan72076. I hope none of your kids accidentally logged onto your computer. And then accidentally logged onto the internet. And then accidentally searched “Houston Texans Fan Sites” on Google. And then accidentally came across Battle Red Blog. And then accidentally clicked the Fan Posts tab. And then accidentally scrolled down and found this post among all the other posts. And then accidentally read it. Totally my fault.  
• Man, 4th and 10? When Johnson went up and plucked that ball out of the sky, this is the exact (and completely reflexive) conversation I had with one of my 3-year-old sons who was wondering by:

Me: OOHH! YESSS! ANDRE JOHNSON, YOU ARE A MAN!!!! Son: [in the cutest way possible] Don't yell at me, daddy. We don't yell. Me: SHUT IT, BOY! I WASN'T YELLING AT YOU! DID YOU SEE THAT CATCH? THAT WAS AMAZING! IT'S FOURTH AND TEN! DO YOU EVEN REALIZE WHAT THAT MEANS? OF COURSE NOT. YOU'RE THREE! GET AWAY FROM ME! ANDDDDREEEE JOOOHHHNNNSOOOOON! Son: [cries] Me: Oh goddammit.

• Man, sudden death overtime? Cool. Two thoughts on that: (1) You know the “Tails never fails” refrain? It’s horse shit. Tails fails, like, at least half of the time. (2) More things should be referred to as “Sudden Death…” Tell me you wouldn’t be a little a more amped to do household chores if your To Do list had things on it like, “Take out the trash out because tomorrow is Sudden Death Trash Day”?
• Man, Neil Rackers? Why didn’t Kubiak let Rackers kick it from 52 yards out? Seriously. No joke there. I legitimately want to know.

I’m certain there are more “Man,…”s from the game. Sirs?

 

First, a bit of housekeeping:

I think it's fairly obvious that Arian Foster's sudden newfound fan base should be referred to collectively as either "The Arian Nation" or "The Arian Brotherhood," but what about a nickname for solely for Foster? 

Should it be something short and elegant and classic like "The A-Train"? Or should it be just as braggardly* as his facial hair implies it should be (perhaps something like Mr. Fuck You, Fucker)? Do we go with the traditional First Name-Nickname-Last Name template (Arian "The Incredible Foss" Foster)? Or do we Bill Simmons it up a bit and give him something really overly in-your-face and cumbersome like "Arian 'Holy Shit! Did That Just Happen!? Why Doesn't He Fumble The Ball Every Fourth Carry? He Does Know He Plays For The Texans, Doesn't He?' Foster"?  

Second, a list of things Arian Foster did after the Colts game today:

• Stole the light from the sun
• Successfully argued why things that aren't, in fact, actually are.
• Convinced Stephen Hawking that there is a God, then immediately convinced a woman that a trip to the strip club isn't a form of cheating, then turned around and reconvinced Stephen Hawking that there actually isn't a God.
• Hung up a large poster perfectly straight on the very first try.
• Kicked a 42 yard field goal. With his cock.
• Single-handedly ushed an 18 wheeler up a hill. With his cock.
• Cut a diamond in half. With his cock.
• Explained what happened at the end of Inception. With his cock.

I'm certain there are more of these. Sirs?

*Totally just made that word up.

I am back. Arisen from the ashes like a mythical phoenix. A mythical phoenix that lives under a beautiful rainbow. A mythical phoenix that feeds on the hopes of small children and breaths dreams. A mythical phoenix with the head of a man and the body of a, well, uninterestingly enough, the body of a man as well. A mythical phoenix that can only be killed with silver bullets and totally rocks tits. A mythical phoenix that pops boners at will and chugs Big Red. A mythical phoenix that, on a dare, hollered out "Fuckin' A, baby! That's the American dream!" during sex while my homie videotaped it from the closet. A mythical phoenix that sucker punched a guy at a bar and then ran away when he called my girlfriend a whore. A mythical phoenix like that. I'm back, and I'm Liston.

-Liston

Dear Everyone,

Son of a bitch.

Love,

Liston

p.s. I hate my life.

p.p.s. If you don't know what "monster rain" is, just google that shit. It's a wonderful microcosm of this week's game.

p.p.p.s. I think we've all been critical of Gary Kubiak in the past but how can you possibly not recognize him is a super genius now? I mean, how do you explain his ability to completely revert the team back to the 2005 model? I'll tell you how. He invented a time machine and went back in time, that's how. Like it or not, that makes him a genius.

I was NOT at the game in some fancy press box with a fancy press pass and a fancy laptop and fancy mustache (I assume Mr. Coon, like all good villians, has a wicked mustache). I was watching the game in the same place all the real fans watch a game: at home, complete with all the essentials any real fan has when he's watching the game:

1. ignored kids crying in the background
   
2. a quick temper (my "dad-flex" as I like to call it. It's kind of like a reflex but instead of a knee jerk reaction it's more of a filthy stream of obscenities and compulsion to kick small things.)
   
3. shitty 24" television
   
4. a wife that I've spent the better of the early day mentally abusing.

The game, as we all know, was God-awfully-bad-ass. Most of you all, like me, expected the Texans to beat the crap out of the Dolphins. (I was glad they won even thought I lost a little bit of money on the game as I took the Texans to win -96.) Any way, here are the notes:

1. Matt Schaub leads the NFL in the "caused me to get the most amount of boners in one game" category. Schaub is amazing and we have coined a new term at the Liston household: Schaub-religious. It's used like sacreligious, except less gay. For example, "You mean to tell me you didn't pick the Texans to win? Why that's Schaub-religious, sir." [punch in the face] (Expectedly, any use of the word Schaub-religious is immediately followed by a punch in the face.)
2. Dolphins are pretty much the homos of the seas. Why would anyone willingly call themselves a dolphin? It's the gayest mascot ever. You might as well be called the Miami Vaginas, or the Miami Fagbots, or the Miami Carrs. (Who didn't see that one coming?)
3. Per a conversation I had with MDC, Travis Johnson's knee to the head is now his Mortal Kombat style finishing move. It should be performed by everyone and performed without disregard. The next time some little punk kid is annoying you, BAM! Travis-Johnson-knee-to-the-head! Your co-worker just cc'd your boss on an email he sent you asking why you han't finished your report? BAM! Travis-Johnson-knee-to-the-head! Your newborn baby won't stop crying? BAM! Travis-Johnson-knee-to-the-head.
4. Kris mother frigg'n Brown is a certified bad ass. His leg, like his balls, is made of brass. If he was an element on the Periodic Table, he'd be "badassium".
5. My wife and I got into an argument during the third quarter and she hasnt really spoken to me since. You tell me if I was in the wrong. Here's what happened. My (jobless) wife said to me, during the game mind you, "Liston, I'd appreciate it if you'd help me around the house a little bit. My mother's coming over today." To which I cheerfully replied, "Oh, yeah, no problem. I'll help you around the house. I'll just sit right here and pay all the GOD DAMN BILLS FOR THE HOUSE! NOW LEAVE ME ALONE!" and then continued to watch the game.

Go Texans.

Liston

There is no question about it. That was the worst, most frustratingly embarrasing thing I have ever seen in my life. One time I saw a little kid walking a puppy by my house. The puppy wiggled it's way out of it's collar and ran into street and was crushed by some truck. The kid burst into tears and let out a horrible shriek. That game was worse. Just a few notes from the game:

1. Somebody needs to explain to Mr. Kubiak that after the fourth quarter is over, the game is over. Apparently, he doesn't whole-heartedly grasp that concept.
2. I don't think DeMarcus Faggins could cover a receiver if they were both standing in a phone booth. One time I got a job at a pharmacy because I told them I was in medical school. When they found out I wasn't they fired me. Can't we do the same for Faggins? He doesn't appear to have ever played football in his life.
3. 3rd and 1? Seriously? We can't convert 3rd and 1?

You know what? My hearts not in it. I can't even really talk about it anymore let alone be funny. Let's try something different for this game recap. I have this little game I play after one of my teams loses. It's therapuetic. It's called, "This game was worse". It's simple. All you have to do is think of things that watching that game was worse than. I'll start:

1. In high school I challenged this special-ed kid (He wasn't like, hard-core special-ed. He was just mildly retarded. Lukewarm retarded, if you will.) to an arm wrestling contest and lost in front of everyone. This game was worse.
2. The other day I was ironing my pants before work. (I'm a man so that means I put them in the dryer while I brushed my teeth.) I took them out of the dryer and put them on. The fly on my boxers opened and the super hot zipper touched my cock. This game was worse.
3. One time I watched an entire Sandra Bullock movie because my homeboy told me she got naked in it. She didn't. This game was worse.
4. Once I was at the urinal at work taking a piss. When I finished I was shaking out the last few drops and somehow I flipped a drop right onto my lower lip. This game was worse.
5. My friend's wife had a miscarriage in the seventh month of her pregnancy. This game was worse. Like fifty times worse too. Yeah, this game was exactly like 50 babes dying.

Another variation of that game I play is called "I would rather...than watch that game again". It's essentially the same thing. Example:

1. I would rather... have my 14 year old daughter tell me she is going on a date. And when the guy arrives to pick her up it turns out to be that big black guy with the crazy eye from Friday. Then he walks into my house, takes a dump on my favorite shirt and says, "I have a 14 inch cock and I'm gonna destroy your daughter." Then she comes and shows me videos of the destroying on Youtube... then watch that game again.

You get the point. We have a few days before the next game so go ahead and vent. Let me hear yours. It helps.

I hate my life.

Liston

I had a dream last night that Jesus and I were riding in a canoe on Lake Conroe. It was a beautiful day and his long brunette hair was majestically blowing in the wind as he guided our canoe. Sitting there staring at Jesus I only had one thing on my mind."Jesus", I said, "are the Texans going to beat the Colts tomorrow?" He looked right into my eyes and it seemed like the world stood still. He then calmly stopped rowing, set his paddles down and replied with, "Fuckin' A, baby!" Then ripped off his Jesus outfit to reveal that he had painted a blue eight on his chest and started doing the ickey shuffle across the lake! Oh, yeah. Gametime, bithes.

Continue reading this post »

Okay. I am so pissed right now. There's something wrong with my T.V. I was watching ESPN this afternoon and my T.V. started shitting out real bad. I watched Jim Rome is Burning, then Around the Horn, and finally Pardon the Interruption and the Texans were on all three shows. Nothing out of the ordinary there. My T.V. appeared to be working okay. But then, instead of the part where the hosts start trashing the Texans and talking about how shitty they are, they started saying things like, "These guys are good" and "Indy should watch out". Obviously there is a problem with my T.V. I hope they let me return it.

I knew we were going to win this game when this season's schedule was released. How did I know? Simple. In high school I dated a girl named Charlotte and I used to beat her. The Carolina Panthers play their home games in a city named Charlotte so I assumed the Texans would beat them. Thank god for my terrible, terrible temper.

Here's a few things from today's 34-21 victory (These are broken into two categories. The first set is from when the Panthers were winning. The second set is from when we were winning):

Set #1: Texans are losing.

1. It appeared as though Owen Daniels (Texans) fumbled that pass because a Panther player looked at the ball real hard.
2. This is just a crazy idea I had: Maybe we should try and cover Steve Smith. He's kind of a big deal. Just a thought.
3. According to announcer Gus Johnson, "The defense has the advantage when they are inside their own 20 yard line. The field becomes more wide than long the closer you get to your own end zone." This must've been the Texans' defensive strategy for the past five years.(On the very next play following this quote Steve Smith caught a touchdown pass.)
4. It was real quick so I'm not 100% sure, but when they flashed to David Carr on the sideline I'm pretty sure he was brushing his hair.
5. When the Texans are losing I hate my life and I am unbearable to be around. I'm pretty sure after Steve Smith's second touchdown I blacked out and punched my sister's baby.

Set #2: Texans are winning.

6. There are 21 letters in Matt Schaub's full name, "Matthew Rutledge Schaub". There are 21 letters in "So mother fucking bad ass". I don't think this is a coincidence.
7. I just thought about when I took my kid to the doctor the other day. The doctor told me that I should play peek-a-boo with him because it will reinforce to the baby that I will always return to him and make him feel safe with me. That doesn't have anything to do with the game, but it is the dumbest thing I have ever heard.
8. I would gladly let my wife cheat on with Andre Johnson. (Heck, I'd even cross my fingers and pray he got her pregnant.)
9. Following a 16 play, 80 yard touchdown drive by the Texans Gus Johnson proclaimed, "Oh! The Texans just rammed it right down the throats of this Panther squad." Another premonition from my relationship with Charlotte.
10. I find that my opinion of Steve Smith is greatly influenced by the score of the game when he is playing against the Texans. For example: Texans 34 Panthers 21, how do I feel about Steve Smith? He's a hell of a football player and probably a nice guy. whereas. Texans 0 Panthers 14, how do I feel about Steve Smith? He's an asshole and probably beats his kids.
11. Baby blue is not an appropriate color for a professional football team. Some things that baby blue is an appopriate color for are: condoms made exclusively for gay men, a woman's purse, kool-aid, and David Carr's panties.

Go Texans.

introducingliston@gmail.com

I watched it, you watched it, the world watched it. The (rockin' ass) Houston Texans beat the (mildy retarded) Kansas City Chiefs today , 20-3.

If you didn't watch the game here's some stats you can use to impress your friends. As usual, these are 100% fact.

1. You're a douche if you didn't watch the game. The Texans are the greatest team in the history of the free world.
2. Andre Johnson caught seven passes for 144 yards. Andre Johnson is to receiving what Jesus Christ is to Christianity
3. Matt Turk's foot is made of solid gold.
4. Mario Williams may be a one of the 0.004% of people athletic enough to play in the NFL, but he still runs like a fat guy.
5. Eddie Kennison (Chiefs receiver) can see the future. He faked an injury on their first play so he didn't have to participate in the drumming.
6. John Benton, the offensive line coach for the Texans, has a kick ass mustache. Look it up.
7. I'm not gay but watching Matt Shaub scramble out of the pocket on 3rd and 8 and then throw the ball, instead of running for a 4 yard gain, gave me a total hard on. I'm pretty sure he invented that move because that is the first time I have ever seen it from a Houston Texan.
8. Huard (Chiefs Q.B.) had the same amount of touchdown passes as I did. What a terd.
9. Herm Edwards in not an intelligent man. There is a fan going around swearing that Herm Edwards wandered into a commons restroom in Reliant stadium and saw a sign that said "Employees must wash hands", paused for a second with a puzzled look on his face, and then said, "No thanks. I wash my own hands."
10. Gary Kubiak likes speaking in generalities:

         a. "I like the way we did it today."

         b. "It's about a team for us, it's not  
             one guy"

         c. "My assistant Offensive Line coach
             Frank Pollack looks like he gives
             poison candy to kids for Halloween
             and assistant Head Coach Mike
             Sherman looks like a fat Dick
             Vermeil."

         d. "We were aggressive."

(note* I may or may not have made up one of those quotes.)

I remember this one time I dated this chick while I was in college. She was a real prude. For about two months it was nothing but straight missionary-style. Right before the month long Christmas vacation we spent the afternoon together. We hung out, talked about our plans for the break, and waited for her father to pick her up. He arrived at about 1:45 p.m. She got into the passenger side and rolled the window down. I leaned in to give her a kiss goodbye but at the last second she moved so my mouth ended up near her cheek and her mouth ended up right next to my ear. She quickly whispered into my ear, "I'm gonna suck your cock so hard when I get back." You should've seen the look on my face. My knees buckled and I made a sorta "buwahah" noise. The next month was the longest, most anticipatory period of my life. I feel the same way now that I did two days before I saw her again. Go Texans.

The Texans lost to the Bucs 31-24, but whatever. If you ask me, I'd tell you we won that game. Why would I tell you that we won that game? 2 reasons:

1. I'm a liar, big time. I lie all the time. And most of the time I lie about things that I don't even really have a reason to lie about. Like if someone asks me what color my car is I'll tell them it's black even though it's dark green. Then when they see my car they say, "Hey, I thought you said you're car was black?" and I say, "I did, fag." and then I just walk off all cool.
2. We won that game by default on account of how shitty Chris Simms is. That guy couldn't throw someone a birthday party, let alone throw someone a football. The only thing cool about Chris Simms is how much he looks like Jake Busey (Gary Busey's less crazy, more creepy looking son.) People don't know this, but the only reason Chris Simms made it into the NFL was because Bruce Allen -GM of the Buccaneers- is a huge fan of the movie Point Break (starring Gary Busey and Keanu Reeves) and drafted Chris thinking he was drafting Jake Busey.

One other thing. I don't want to read too much into this but the Texans scored 14 points in the first 3 minutes of the game with Sage Rosenfels as their starting QB. If we extrapolate that throughtout the entire game that means we would have scored 280 points! It's completely reasonable then to assume that if we play Sage for the entire game against the Chiefs next week we will score at least 265 points. I'm going to Vegas tonight and laying $3,ooo on the Texans to win -260 points. It's a lock, baby.

The(awesome)Texans vs. The(shitty)Cowboys

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Outstanding, sir.

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