SmorgasBurgh

I have not posted for quite some time and surely many of you were thinking I was dead. You will be happy to know that I am alive and well. When I do die, my wife has strict instructions to post one last tirade that I have written to tell everybody that I know and hate to go fuck themselves. It will be more vile and self-serving than anything else I have ever written. I can’t wait.

Now let’s talk about the Draft! I used to have a boring job where I just sat around all day killing time and back then I would read all kinds of shit about the draft and do all kinds of research and know most of the players that were drafted in the top 3 rounds. Now I have a job with much more responsiblity and it keeps me way too busy to kill any time on the Internet at all. Guess what? I liked the good old days and the boring-ass job TEN TIMES BETTER. I think I would have made a great Night Watchman. You know Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs? I’m good with just the bottom tier. I don’t need any of that belonging or esteem or purpose or self-actualization bullshit. Just food and shelter and beer and TV. Maslow is a fucking idiot.

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The Steelers already lost starting Wide Receiver Mike Wallace when the Miami Dolphins overpaid him at an average of $12M per year. (He’s set to earn about $40M of his new contract in the next three years. That’s Flacco money!) Letting Wallace go at that price was the right move. The Steelers didn’t have room under the salary cap to pay him anywhere near that. With Wallace gone, the Steelers are left with only Antonio Brown, Plaxico Burress and Jerricho Cotchery as NFL caliber receivers on their roster.
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Hello Pittsburgh friends everyone. Geno whisper because he no feel so good. Concussion hurt like motherfucker. I throwing up more than Russian supermodel on Mercedes-Benz fashion week. I know from dating many skinny models— not gay. Also very bad headaches. Feels just like old times when I drink too much of Uncle Nikolai’s vodka and then next morning Uncle Nikolai smack me in head with can of borscht for drinking too much his vodka. I never have concussion before. Doctor tell me no television. No books. No computer. Just sit still and let mind go blank. Easy for me—I just pretend in team meeting learning Bylsma’s system. I ask Doctor if I could do sex and he just laugh. What the fuck that mean??? Does he try to say “course you cannot have sex because orgasm will kill you?” Or does he try to say “course you can have sex. Only way I tell you cannot have sex is if Russian policeman chop off your penis.” In Russian hospital we have many pamphlets about life after policeman chop off your penis. So I have no idea about sex with concussion and Sid is no help. I ask him and he say he stay celibate during season anyway to make sure that sex no fuck with his mechanics. Sid take hockey way too serious. Lighten up, kid! In Russia they kidnap baby sister and put her finger in locker to remind you to win at all costs and we still not take hockey as serious as Sid. They would love Sid in Russia. Concussion no fun at all. Feel weak and tired. Now I know how Ovie must feel since he stop doing Drago milkshakes. I hope I get back on ice soon. Would be shame for James Neal not to have all my glory to steal. Ha ha! Just kidding. James is good player. He does good job and I not mind him benefit from my pinpoint passing. He can steal glory from me anytime as long as we win the games. Just better not steal any of my women while I not sex them up. In Russian hospital they also have pamphlets about life after teammate cut off your penis for stealing girlfriend. Russia still very fucked up place. Must rest now. Goodnight Pittsburgh.

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