Boston, MA – If you told me that ’9′ and ’4′ would have potential impact on Super Bowl squares, I would have said no fucking way because I had those piece of dog shit numbers. Well, wouldn’t you fucking know it, it dawns on me late in the game that if the score remains 34-29, I would have won $400. Along comes Phil Simms (needing a toupee in the shape of a wedge of pie), who said “I would not take the safety here”, which of course planted a seed with the Baltimore coaching staff. I actually just said to Mrs. Munson “Imagine all the people that have 9-4 out there? LOL”, then I looked at my piece of paper and told Nipples the Cat to vacate the premises fucking STAT. I was screaming at my TV “IF YOU TAKE THE SAFETY I WILL FUCKING MURDER MY CAT LIVE ON TWITTER” which totally relaxed Mrs. Munson on a Sunday evening. Anyway, after Sam Koch did his impression of me running for my life trying to protect my asshole from no longer being a virgin as a Boy Scout, I got to thinking about Jim Nantz. I honestly can’t picture Jim Nantz making love. Can you? I can’t do it. If I try, he just stands there with his suit on, undoing his fly to release all 3 inches of Nantz-mania. Does Jim Nantz cum like you and me? I won’t go into details, but when I launch one out I look like they can’t finish me off in the Electric Chair. Here’s my text impression of Jim Nantz having an orgasm: (monotone) “Okay. Wowie. Oh my heavens, your mouth feels wonderful on Little Nantz. Well, holy moly, here we go. Yes. There it is. Very nice. Well, wouldn’t you know it, my penis is beginning to tickle. Annnnnnnnd, cum.”
Anyway, I have been watching this play over and over, kind of like the time Marcia Brady broke her nose with that football, only without all the lol’s. Now every dickhead at work: “Hey, if they didn’t take that safety you would have won $400.” Oh, yeah, no shit, really?