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Archive for the ‘Peyton Manning’ Category

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Dear Eli,

Hi! My name is Jessica! lol! You may have heard of me, or know who I am, as I am sometimes in the internets that any U.S. American can see or read regarding my so-called social life and the boys I have sometimes gone on (totally innocent! lol!!) dates with like John Mayer and this boy that I dated up until yesterday.  Oh, yeah, and you might have heard of me because I had my married life with my EX!!!!! husband (lol!!) made into a TV show.

Anyway, I don’t really do this ALL that often (lol!) but I wanted to see if you wanted to like, I don’t know, hook up or something. I mean, I like totally have two tickets to Cozumel for a couple of days, and I thought you might want to get away for a while. I mean, you may have heard about me and my EX!!! boyfriend, Tony, but we like totally broke up yesterday. And I couldn’t be happier, because he is like, totally a LOSER! As in he’s a LOSER and you’re a WINNER! And I think winners are, like totally, HAWT!!!! So I just thought I’d check and see, you know, like who knows, right? give it a shot.

So I’m sort of shy, but friendly when you get to know me, and I like to cook and work in the garden. I’m equally as comfortable in jeans as in an evening gown. I like to go hiking and rafting, or just curl up with a nice glass of wine by a nice fire! Can’t wait to hear from you.

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Dear Jessica,

Thanks for the kind email. I asked my big brother. He says I’m not allowed to meet you. Do you like Kenny Chesney?

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Uh, do you have Tom Brady’s digits?

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It looks like the tempertaure at the time of kick off tonight in Green Bay is supposed to be about zero with a windchill in the negative teens.

Uh-oh, that means Kenny Chesney’s boyfriend’s brother’s testicles are never gonna descend.

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 Indianapolis, Jan. 13, 2008.

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Hey, you! Row D, seat 9! Yeah, I’m talking to you, fat ass. . . put that finger up again and I’ll come up there and break it off and shove it up your fat yankee corn eatin’ ass, motherfucker! Is that your wife or your pet haaaaaawg?!?! GodDAMM she’s a fucking haaaaawg!! Suuuuuuueeey,  pig! Get your fat yankee ass back in your Reliant K and go home and cry a river in your tractor back in your frozen, flat, yankee-ass soybean field. Your inbred, overrated punk-ass quarterback couldn’t win the big one at Tennessee, and he ain’t gonna win it here! Manning SUCKS!! Cutler SUCKS! That other Manning SUCKS!

I’m from ATHENS, ALAFUCKINGBAMA, motherfucker!! ALAFUCKINGBAMA, Motherfucker! Where we play REAL FOOTBALL!! ALAFUCKINGGODDAMBAMA!!!!!!

Your team SUCKS! Indianapolis sucks! The whole state of Illinois SUCKS! Fuck you, you cracker-ass inbred  corncob-pipe smoking fat farmer boy! Fuck you!!!

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Rivers. Dude. Cool it. Have a little class. You’re giving the fine San Diego quarterback legacy a bad name.

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Whenever the defending World Champions roll into your town for a Sunday game, you can always count on a certain type of fan to show up.

The fan with the fake tan and fake tits that totally wants to fuck an NFL player.

Like this one:

I’d Even Do The Kicker

Or this one:

Wanna see my pec implants?

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B-list country singer Chely Wright and B-list TV chef Giada deLaurentiis

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Masters’ Champion Zach Johnson and Super Bowl Champion Peyton Manning

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Notre Dame QB Jimmy Clausen and Michigan Coach Lloyd Carr

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Why the heck do we have to go out to dad-gum California to start the season? Bunch of dad-gum hippies out there.

Boy, I sure do miss Peyton. At least his dad-gum, pansy-ass brother didn’t go to school here.

I bet all those hippies out there in dad-gum California are going to take pot before the game. I hear tell that taking pot makes you hungry. I don’t need no dad-gum pot to get hungry. In fact, I sure could use a turkey about now.

Man, I sure do like that one gal on TV. What’s her name again? Rachael Ray, that’s it. She’s a dad-gum firecracker.

We got us a whole state full of dad-gum inbred, mullet-sporting trailer trash named Peyton that are all about 10 now. I hope one of them dad-gum sumbitches turns out to be a Quarterback.

I bet that Rachael Ray could whip up a turkey. I wonder if she’d let me cover her fine ass in turkey juice and lick it all off. Whoooooooooie, that would be a good time. I don’t get that kind of dad-gum action at home.

I bet if Rachael Ray and Peyton had a son, he’d be Quarterback here in about 19 years. Man, she’s so fine. Mmmmmm. Rachael Ray.

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Dad-gum it Rachael, you’re spillin’ all the juice!

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