Comfortable and Furious

NFL Week 8: Bomb ‘Em and Shoot ‘Em Edition

Here extended before you is the notorious hot hand. See me, feel me, touch me. But for Manning the younger and Odell Beckham Jr. combining for a garbage time touchdown and Saquon Barkley punching in an ultimately meaningless two-point conversion, all the while being scolded from the booth by Joe Tessitore, wed have run the table. And if if was a fifth, we could all get drunk.

NOTE: This being Ruthless, I wouldn’t dare link to Fifth Ward Weebie without also big-upping this.

I know I’m up and I sure hope you are, too. And honestly, three-point loss or not, Eli sucks. There can be no denial anymore, the guy just sucks. Who am I to say? Just some hack writer sitting on my couch? Nah, fuck that. 2018 Eli Manning is fucking pathetic. You can tell that motherfucker I said so, too, and if he has a problem with it, tell him to bring his sorry ass on up to the Ruthless offices and ask for Devon Pack. [Editor’s Note: Or send him to John Elway, who would probably hire him]

So, besides the always-welcome beneficial sports score, was there anything interesting in the papers this week? I haven’t had a chance to read much because I burnt both of my retinas. In retrospect I suppose it was a stupid idea to self-produce and direct a documentary about welding, but I think I was subconsciously trying to avoid seeing that fucking Chevy commercial with the two false endings one more time. How the hell did infuriate potential customers become part of the game plan of an ad campaign?

Here, let me push up my sport-coat sleeves to my elbows and stand in front of a brick wall. Okay, here we go: Who are the ad wizards who came up with *beats candy apple-headed widows-peaked pitchman with pipe wrench* and whats the deal with airline peanuts *uses pitchman’s blood as eye black while laughing maniacally* hey are any of you from out of town? That’s my time, you’ve been great!

Okay, fine. I read the news. We all read the news, so everybody sing along!

[Got my] Van and bombs

At a strip mall in Plantation

I’ll save the nation

Blow up the Clinto-o-o-o-ons

Van and bombs

Gonna get me locked up quickly

I’m kinda thick, see

Just like my boy Do-o-o-o-n

For real, could this motherfucker have further embraced every stereotype that everybody immediately visualized without permanently stitching a Goddamn MAGA hat to his head like Morrie in Goodfellas? So many boxes checked: white trash, 50s, Florida, rape van, rally attendance, toxic online presence, and of course praising Trump’s economy whilst barely hanging on to an off-the-books pizza delivery gig.

I guess if we can draw any positivity out of this at all, its that the Italian food conveyance industry is still a haven for the otherwise-unemployable dirt-bag set. Lord knows that was the case when I did it. Everybody carried weapons, and on the first day they told you to beware the porn scenario because it was almost certainly a robbery setup. Everybody also had sex with customers, though – more gay guys than straight but still, yeah, pretty much everybody. Nobody drove completely sober, and the majority of drivers sold weed. If you worked at a joint that also sold beer, you could more than double your take-home by hawking 40s after liquor law hours and/or to teenagers. This being Ruthless, I’m guessing a lot of you already learned this stuff first-hand.

There are 1000 hacky jokes about how the MAGA hat lets you identify the water heads in public – hell, there are probably a couple in my archives – but can we pivot that to shit like this being indicative of Republican Terrorism? And yes, lets call it what it is, capital R, capital T. The Republicans who weren’t immediately on some Alex Jones false flag bullshit were trying to draw slipshod parallels to Bernie Sanders and the Steve Scalise shooting, as if the star of My X-Girlfriends Wedding Reception has an army of juiced-up pizza boys plowing eco-friendly Subarus into peaceful protests and lapping up the words of internet talk show hosts who are literally pretending to be secret agents.

If decent people get even an ounce of flesh out of the MAGAbomber fiasco, let it be this: no more calls for civility. That goes for everyone from Ben Shapiro to worthless castoffs like Chuck Schumer, from Dianne Feinstein to Mitch McConnell. One side is doing this. One party supported by a small minority of the population is literally ruining everything while controlling all three branches of government. Calls for civility belong in an unmarked grave next to wherever the hell we threw thoughts and prayers after Parkland. Fuck that noise.

I know, I know, I’m sorry. This is supposed to be a funny column about sports. Its a tough week to be funny. I did a song parody for Christs sake. So here is the video for Dire Straits Walk of Life. Go bananas. Be bop a lula baby what I HEY LOOK FOOTBALL!


Pip pip Cheerios, tiny cabs and Spice Girls, the NFL kicks London in the dick again by sending the Jags back. Unfortunately for Nigel and Graham, London’s favorite QB Bloop Bittles is on a rotten streak right now, having lost his last three by a combined score of 28-90, sporting a 9:8 TD/INT split and a 60.6 completion percentage. He actually got benched for Cody Kessler last Sunday, but Doug Marrone is gonna stick with him – presumably because Kessler gained 156 yards on 21 completions. That’s a whopping 7.4 yards of offense for every throw. It should be noted that these were conventional, overhand throws, ostensibly designed to move the ball downfield.

The Eagles don’t look like World Champions, but they’re nowhere near the wall yet. Their 3-4 record belies the close nature of the games, as all four losses came at a total of 15 points, and Wentz was wearing a sweatshirt during the most disproportionate, a six-point loss to Tampa in week two. Since his return he has completed 71% of his passes for 1,502 yards, 10 touchdowns, and one interception. Hes also trending up, as he has two or more touchdown passes in 11 of his last 13 games.

Blabbles can’t tell jerseys apart even without the fog rolling off of the Thames, and if you believe the rumors about his personal life, hes not really a 9:30 in-the-morning type of guy. Nor am I, but I’m willing to wake up before noon to a positive turnover differential and a unit on the good side of the ledger.


Mrs. Duquesne desperately wants you to know that this game is her zillion star lock of the week, apparently of the belief that shes a thought leader for divining that Patrick Mahomes is a good professional football player. She doesn’t want you to know that her journey to the Boston Ballet and NYUs Tisch School of the Arts began with her performing a choreographed routine to a Day-O/Hot Hot Hot mashup at age 7 whilst wearing a sequined hot pink halter top with matching maracas (all gross like they do in Honey Boo Boo Child contests). Oh well, guess you know now. Whoops.

Hey, quick aside, I never wanted to be one of those writers who begs for Patreon money or hypes an Amaz*n wish list in every other sentence, but if anyone has some Blue Apron or Fresh Direct hookups they don’t need, I have a feeling I might be cooking and dining alone this week. Won’t you please lend a hand?

Seriously though, Kansas City was the easiest money we made last week, given the shellacking they put on the Bengals. No need to run it into the ground, as the 45-10 score speaks for itself. Besides, things are bad enough in Ohio, what with the fucking Paul brothers and that dive bar 6.5 running around with a rifle making everybody around her look stupid by association.

The Chiefs get to play a stumbling divisional rival at home, and the Broncos IR is currently ten names long, right above nine questionables that include Von Miller and DaeSean Hamilton. They best pray to God that Case Keenum stays healthy, as he is now backed up by Kevin Hogan – off the practice squad and onto his third roster since April thanks to Chad Kellys (most) recent fuckup – and someone called Garrett Grayson who played at Colorado State and may or may not have caught John Elway’s eye by accurately throwing garbage bags into a dumpster behind a Wendy’s near the stadium. I know its a lot of points, but I’m willing to go there.


This deserves the NBC Sunday night slot in light of last years heart-stopping NFC Championship Game, decided on the last play with a 61-yard game winner to Stefon Diggs. Of course, one of those guys is gone now, and his replacement made us some money last night by racking up 37 against the Jets.

I have to respect the momentum, though. The Saints have won five in a row after scoring 40 in a loss against the Bucs in week one, and Brees on a roll generally makes for a situation where you just sit back and collect. Oddly, for a man known for his arm, he gave his wideouts a relatively light workload last week, using Alvin Kamera as a workhorse and even carrying himself four times – two of those being successful fourth-down sneaks.

I’m expecting a hell of a game and the straight-up line reflects how competitive it ought to be. That said, Brees has been too good for too long to bet against him while he leads his division with a 118 passer rating. Put your money down and cross your fingers, it ought to be fun.

So, as I type this, news is still coming in from Pittsburgh regarding what the ADL is calling the deadliest attack on the Jewish community in the history of the United States. Words fail me, but obviously all decent people want the best for those affected, and for this Republican Terrorism to stop. Here is a link to a recent piece in which nazis, anti-semites, and others of that ilk explain how they came to embrace the murderous ideology that may very well lead to the destruction of this country as we know it. Sundays are for football and football is supposed to be fun, so read at your own peril.

Good luck!

We certainly fucking need it.



, , , ,