I wasn’t quite expecting *that*.
This is how I feel right about NOW, and it’s two minutes ‘til halftime.
Let’s see - fever, headache, nausea, throat irritation, red eyes, body aches, peeling fingernails, patches of hair falling out, sore gums, and cognitive impairment.
WebMD says: You either have sepsis or there was a 4th quarter Giants comeback last night.
Testing out the stylus.
I think Eli still makes this face, sometimes.
(Source: peytonmanningisahottie)
I’m not crazy for seeing a slight similarity, right? It’s all the chin, I’m telling you…
Granted, Stevens has gotten less chin-y, but there’s still a slight similarity here, I think, early on.
one more (sorry, guys)
David: I don’t know with the Giants, honestly. When they look good, they look good. When they don’t, it looks like they’re in a hostage video, half-assing the football and trying to blink out some Morse Code message about their crazed Jesuitical captor-coach. I have absolutely no idea which team will show up next week.
David: Well, it is a rule that everyone paid to talk about football has to treat the Lions like they’re freaking MS13 or the Crips, instead of just the team that has most adeptly trolled the rest of the league all year long.
Jeff: He kept calling them “class acts.” Larry McCarren didn’t NOT agree, but he spent most of the broadcast saying “Yessss!! Yess!!” like a stoned guy finding a hot, clean cinnamon roll under the sofa, anytime the Packers did something right.
(Source: GQ)
Brinson: …first of all, shave that Fu-Manchu, Joe Flacco, before we go any further. Let’s shave that thing off.
WIlson: You know what makes it worse?
Brinson: What’s that?
Wilson: He somehow duped Dennis Pitta into growing one, too, so those two numbnuts are standing next to each other at the end of the game, looking like they’re getting ready to go to a Halloween party as Starsky and Hutch.
-Will Brinson & Ryan Wilson/CBSSports Pick SIx Podcast
**
Well, good. Thanks, SNL, for acknowledging that Matt Prater’s kicked some prit-tee long field goals lately. No 22 yard chip shots, no sir.
