Cheers and Boo-Urns: Week 4

CHEERS to Jon Kitna, who led the Lions back for the third time this season! This blog's name still has relevancy! HOORAH!

BOO-Urns to my weekend picks. After starting the day hot (6-1 in the early games), I took an epic dump in the 4 o'clock and Sunday Night games. Record for the week: 7-6. Let's just hope Cincy mans up, rises above their crummy Ohio origins and commits various crimes against the New England secondary. A shivving would be welcome.

CHEERS to Diego Montoya Anderson and Eli Manning for being relevant for another week. Especially to Diego, who totally pimp-slapped the Ravens. Too bad Jamal Lewis couldn't do the same. I may be a Ravens fan, but damn, do I love the irony of Diego downing the Ravens. I guess I'm just a fan of Irony in general.

BOO-Urns to the Houston Texans. Those first two weeks of the season really got my hopes up. Jerks. I hope Matt Schaub finds a bug in his Wheaties this morning. (Side note: I wonder if athletes still eat Wheaties for breakfast)

CHEERS to Coach Norv Turner for murdering the hopes of another franchise. Honorable mention to Phillip Rivers who appears to have gone color blind, or perhaps has been replaced by Jordan Palmer. If Phillip Rivers offers you a balloon this week and asks you if you've been saved, well, that's just not Phillip Rivers.

BOO-Urns to Brian Griese. Note to Lovie: BRING BACK REX!

CHEERS to Tampa Bay for thriving in the face of Cadillac Williams' knee a-sploding early in the game. Jesus, you could hear his knee pop all the way in Barrow, Alaska, from what I've read. It registered a 6.4 seismic reading in Carolina.

A BIG BOO-Urns to Carolina for not covering. You destroyed Chris Simms' spleen, and you couldn't win that game. Cadillac's knee is now in geo-synchronous orbit over Uruguay, and you couldn't win yesterday either. You're a blood thirsty bunch of thugs, but you can't win. Just. Plain. Sad.

CHEERS to Brett Favre for totally ignoring Dan Marino's recorded message o' congratulations after Favre shredded Marino's TD record. There are too many good sports in the NFL when it comes to record-breaking. Cheers to Brett for being an obnoxious jerk about it.

DOUBLE CHEERS to Daunte Culpepper for rubbing the health of his knee in the face of Miami's fans. That was world-class taunting. I'm struggling to find a way to reference the Minnesota Love Boat in here, but since I can't, maybe it's time to put it to rest.

Hello. I am Diego Montoya Anderson. You released me. Prepare to die.

Hello Baltimore Ravens.

I am Diego Montoya Anderson. Numero tres de la Cafés de Cleveland.

You released me from your football team.

Prepare to die.

Do you remember, Kyle Boller, when you duct-taped me to the goal posts and let Tara Reid bite off my nipples?

This Sunday, you die.

Ray Lewis, I let you hide your AK-47s and IEDs in my dorm during training camp, then you ratted me out to homeland security. I did 3 months at Guantanamo Bay for you, Ray Lewis.

On Sunday, at 1pm, you will die.

Brian Billick. I remember you, sir. You swore on your great grandmothers grave that I was your super awesome quarterback of the future. Then, on the final day of training camp, you buried a shiv between my third and fourth ribs.

On the seventh day, God may rest, but I will not. For I will kill you. Dead.

DeShawn, the locker room attendant at M&T Bank Stadium. I tipped you at the end of every game, but you refused to clean the feces out of my locker after Jonathan Ogden pinched a two-foot loaf all over my gear.

You may have forgotten, but Diego Montoya Anderson never forgets. Sunday, you die.

People frequently say that Matt Stover is the nicest guy in the Ravens locker room. No matter.

Sunday, I will break both your knee caps free of your twitching body and feed the cartilage to the Dawg Pound. For Sunday, you will die.

Heisman Trophy Winner Troy Smith. We've never crossed paths in this vast football universe. But I'm going to mentally put Drew Olsen's face on your body, and snap your neck.

Drew Olsen took my spot on the Ravens roster just as you took his.

For that, Sunday, you will die.

For I am Diego Montoya Anderson.

And on Sunday, you will all die.