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Y'know, Kansas, I was going to answer to that article, but I knew you would, so I waited because I know your read would be much better. Another reality check is in order for WCF Sr.
"Don?t worry about a thing, every little thing is gonna be alright. - Bob Marley "
Ever wonder what a day in the life of Brett Favre is like? Well, here it is in his very own words.
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12:00 AM - Called the Packers. Said, "Do you have Prince Albert in a can? Better let him out!" Hungup quick. Haha! Take that, bitches!
12:02 AM - Kissed the wife on the forehead and laid down to dream of new ways to exact my revenge upon the traitorous Packers.
12:27 AM - Called the Packers. Said, "Is your refrigerator running? Better catch it!" Hungup quick. Haha! Suckers!
12:29 AM - Kissed the wife on the forehead and laid down to dream of new ways to exact my revenge upon the traitorous Packers.
12:45 AM - Called the Packers. Immediately heard, "Brett, we have caller ID. Quit calling you sad, pathetic, narcissistic, washed up little man." Uh oh. Hungup quick. The bastards are onto me.
12:47 AM - 3 AM - Sat on the end of the bed and stared at a picture of myself. Thought of newer ways to exact my revenge upon the traitorous Packers. Settled on flaming paper sack/dog poop prank. Genius. Got an erection staring at my picture. Laid down. Watched rerun of SportsCenter. Masturbated to daily segment on yours truly. Saved semen to use later. Gawd I love me.
3 AM - 8 AM - Kneeled, said a prayer to me. Slept. Dreamed of me.
8 AM - Rise and shine! Took my morning BM. It didn't smell. Headed downstairs to make breakfast. Power shake. Banana, strawberries, low-fat ice cream, one egg, wheat germ, semen from last night. Mmmmmmmmmmmm good.
9 AM - Watched SportsCenter. I so love me. Tried to blow myself during daily segment on yours truly. Couldn't reach it. Wished Madden was here. Called doctor to ask if removing a vertebrae would make self-fellating easier. Doc said no. Bummer.
10 AM - 2 PM - Put on Wranglers. Just made a million dollars by mentioning Wranglers. Oops did it again. Admired my bulge in full-length mirror. I am so sexy. Drove my tractor down to the park. Played pick-up football with a group of homos...I mean...my fans. They couldn't handle my cannon-like arm. Broke a redneck's nose on a screen pass.............because I could. Wrung the sweat out of my shirt into a glass. Drank it. Tasted like nectar. I may be God.
3 PM - Called the Vikings. Told them I was taking their offer. Leaked news to ESPN. They jizzed. Called the Packers to rub it in. They didn't answer. Left fart noises on their answering machine. True comedic gold.
5 PM - Called the Vikings. Fake cried. Told them I changed my mind, was staying retired. Leaked the news to ESPN. They cried. Getting a chubby just thinking of tonight's SportsCenter. Called different doctor for second opinion on vertebrae removal. Same answer. Dammit. Texted Madden a pic of my crotch with the caption, "Wish u were here!" Madden texted back, "Saw the scrawl on ESPN! Gassing up the bus now! Don't leave! Luv, Big John."
7 PM - 9 PM - Dinner with the family. Steak and potatoes for the wife and kids. My own body and blood for me. Called my agent and worked out tomorrow's plans to ensure I remain on SportsCenter. Decided that we would leak news that the shoulder is 100% healed and that, instead of football, I will sign a contract to pitch for the New York Yankees unless the Vikings pay me $15 million per year. Complete bullshit and yet brilliant at the same time. Michael Jackson who? OMG, I so want me right now!
10 PM - Watched SportsCenter. Made the wife wear a Madden Halloween mask and give me head during the segment on yours truly. Almost like the real thing except the real Madden uses more tongue and randomly shouts "Boom!" and "Pow!" for no apparent reason. Had great idea. Made note to purchase Madden hand puppet for future SportsCenter reruns.
11 PM - 12 AM - Called the Packers. Still no answer. Left annoying sounds like Lloyd from "Dumb and Dumber" on their answering machine. I am so f***in' great!
It's so flat you can watch your dog run away for three days.
3 PM - Called the Vikings. Told them I was taking their offer. Leaked news to ESPN. They jizzed. Called the Packers to rub it in. They didn't answer. Left fart noises on their answering machine. True comedic gold.
Kansas: It's been a while since I talked to God, so here I am again in Heaven sitting on the right hand of the Father Almighty himself. God, once again I want to thank you for letting me speak with you without actually striking me dead first, and also for letting me sit on Jesus' throne. Very comfy. Jesus must be busy again.
God: Yeah, he's in a Dorito's bag on a shelf in a Piggly Wiggly just waiting for some stupid religious nut to discover him and put him on Ebay.
Kansas: So...uh...he's a nacho chip.
God: Yep. Hey, eternity's a long time. Gotta do something to keep yourself entertained or you'll go bonkers. Hell, last time I got bored I went skinny-dipping off the coast of Indonesia. Probably shouldn't have tried to impress Mary with that cannonball, though. Created quite the wave.
Kansas: Oh! Ummm...yeah...<cough>. That...uh...that was a doozy.
God: Yeah. Probably should've learned my lesson after the first time. Killed all the dinosaurs on that one.
Kansas: Really?
God: Well, it wouldn't have been so bad except I misjudged the water depth and hit bottom. All those think-they-know-it-all scientists down there are now trying to tell everybody it was a comet or meteor or some such nonsense. Nope. Just my big ass.
Kansas: Maybe when you're bored next time you should try something a little less...um...physical and potentially apocalyptic. Ya know, like read a book, start a stamp collection, play some chess, build a new galaxy, <cough> kill Brett Favre <cough>.
God: What was that last one?
Kansas: Um.....cook. I said cook.
God: Oh, I do that all the time. I try different recipes for creating people. Ya know, a little extra pinch of this, a little dash of that. Sometimes it works out great and I'll get a Usain Bolt, and other times it all goes horribly wrong and I'll get Chastity Bono.
Kansas: Well, next time you have a little down time I'd like you to do a favor for me if you can.
God: Sure. What is it?
Kansas: I think I can speak for the entire human race that doesn't wear horn helmets and also most of the pet population within earshot of a television when I say that we are really sick and tired of Brett Favre.
God: Brett Favre, huh? MARY! Bring me the Book of Lives and............oh wait. Brett Favre. Brett Favre. Oh, I think I know him. If it's the guy I'm thinking of he drives me batshit crazy too. Forrest Gump-type of redneck, right?
Kansas: Yes.
God: Loves the sound of his own voice?
Kansas: Exactly!
God: Egomaniac? Addicted to the spotlight and Vicodin? Has to be in the public eye every single solitary second? Thinks he is MY greatest gift?
Kansas: Yes! That's him!
God: You're right. He has to go. So what do you want me to do? You want me to off the guy? You want me to make it <air quotes> his time </air quotes>? Fiery car wreck? Plane crash? Botched burglary attempt?
Kansas: Ummmmmmmm..........................hold on, I'm thinking. Ummm.........nah. That's probably a little too severe. But I like where your head's at. I just need something that will make him slink away in shame and embarrassment and never show his face in public again. Like.......oh, I dunno........like AIDS! Not the full-blown I'm-gonna-die AIDS but the, you know, the I'll-continue-to-live-but-I'll-do-it-in-total-seclusion-on-my-farm-in-Mississippi kind of AIDS.
God: Gotcha. And how would you like that to happen? Blood transfusion? Dirty needle? Infected saliva spit in his face?
I have a question though. Why is God trying to impress Mary. Wouldn't that piss her husband Joseph off and isn't that one of his 10 commandments not to do------covet thy neighbors wife that is.
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