Old NFL QB Child Trend: Autism. New NFL QB Child Trend: Illegitimacy

Dumping Bridget before she gets too old? Smart move, Brady. Slipping one past the goalie right before doing so? Ouch. Did Matty Leinart teach you nothing?

Photoshop work by MDG

Let us be lovers we’ll marry our fortunes together

The season may be over but for one of the First Ladies of Football things are just getting started. Michae’ Holloman (no relation) isn’t just a sexy cheerleader, she’s also a fucking beauty queen.

The rose goes in the front, big guy.

After winning the title of Miss Maryland (Ft. Washington represent) 2007 Michae’ is preparing to move on to the Miss USA pagaent in March. This is not to be confused with the Miss America pagaent; these ladies forgo the “talent” competition in order to focus their full attention on the tits and ass. Come on Miss America, get with the times. Rocking that body should be worth more than all the juggling and crappy warbling in the world. If these ladies had real talent do you think they’d waste their time with this low-rent shit? Hell no, they’d be too busy giving Simon blowjobs during the commercial breaks on American Idol. Donald Trump know’s what’s up…

If she wins I might have to reevaluate my Black Draft selections–don’t worry Halle, on the national stage she’s still just another busted Marylander (no offense to every girl I grew up with–actually fuck that, offense intended! Bitches…).

Ashes To Ashes, Dust To Dust

MMP: Dearly beloved, and Clint, we are gathered here today to pay the final respects of Ramon Guadelupe “Footsteps” Falco. Falco, though unassuming, was one of the charter contributors to this fine piece of contemporary literature. As fate would have it, his tenure and work were ravaged by ailments that, to this day, remain mysterious to us all. We don’t know why Falco was taken from us, he just kinda disappeared like a blonde tourist in Aruba. Was it cancer, syphilis, or maybe just an unhealthy obsession with his commemorative state quarters collection? We may never know.

Flubby would now like to say a few words.

Flubby: I would?

MMP: C’mon dude, it’s for Falco.

Flubby: [rolls eyes] Fine. [clears throat] Falco died, as so many of his generation, before his time. In your wisdom you took him, Lord. As you took so many bright flowering young men, at Khe San and Lan Doc and Hill 364. Falco was a shining example of changing with the times and remaining relevant. How many other people could become an NFL internet wiseacre of considerable renown after a successful pop-music career that culminated in his global smash hit “Rock Me Amadeus.” Once in Marrakesh, Falco and I were discussing the Hegelian dialectic when he remarked—-

MMP: Flub, this is the guy that used to blog with us, not the Austrian one-hit wonder.

Flubby: Really? He’s not the same dude as the singer? You’re sure?

MMP: Pretty sure, bro.

Flubby: Fuck me. You think you know a guy…

Ape: Yeah, I joined the site after he had already gone MIA, so I have little to no recollection.

Unsilent: Right, I think he only did one post that wasn’t a team preview.

Ufford: Maybe he’ll come back from the dead again, like he did for the opening day Pittsburgh bukkake.

MMP: Dicks. [sighs] And so, Ramon…Guadalupe…Falco, in accordance with what we think your dying wishes might well have been, we commit your mortal remains to the bosom of the short men’s room urinal in Penn Station, which, for no tangible reason, we suspect you loved so well.

Goodnight, sweet prince.

Drew: I hope he’s not actually dead, because that would make all our jokes about him being dead really awkward.

Najeh’s Dump Import

Welcome to what we hope will be the first of many installments of Najeh’s Dump Import. We scour the eBays for the latest NFL skinny because you don’t have time– what with your mounting credit card debt and that scorching case of herpes. As always, we will pretend to be interested in your comments (which is more than ESPN.com will do).

• His self-esteem is Schott? According to Steve Czaban, Marty Schottenheimer has the confidence of an insecure twelve year old girl. (via Larry Brown Sports)
• Prayers to Black Jesus answered? Michael Irvin may soon have a pink slip to go with his fat ties. (NY Post via Shanoff)
• Speaking of Dan Shanoff , he delivers the state of the sports blogosphere in his interview with The Big Picture: him talk good, him have pretty wordhole.

Vote For The Meast Of The Year!

We’ve been trying to decide if we should continue the Meast of the Week award all through the offseason, but I think it’s probably a feature best left to when football is present in our lives and not leaving a gaping void in the pit of our souls.

Besides, the MOW posts were largely used for us to talk about whatever the fuck we wanted, and now we have 6 whole months to do that anyway. And now here is the illustrious roll call of all the KSK Meast honorees. From this batch you must pick one player, the player we at KSK shall bestow the title of Meast of the Year upon. Making your work even harder is the fact that Sean Taylor, the original Meast himself, isn’t even on this list! Oh, the ironing.

Here we go. Make your picks in the comments. Coronation next week.

Week 1 – Shawne Merriman

Week 2 – Mike Peterson

Week 3 – Panthers defense

Week 4 – Santana Moss

Week 5 – Bears defense

Week 6 – Alan Faneca/Josh Brown

Week 7 – Steve Hutchinson

Week 8 – Mike Vrabel and Tully Banta-Cain

Week 9 – Jason Taylor

Week 10 – LaDainian Tomlinson

Week 11 – Chad Johnson

Week 12 – Bart Scott

Week 13 – Lorenzo Neal

Week 14 – Drew Brees

Week 15 – Pacman Jones

Week 16 – Steven Jackson

Week 17 – Darrent Williams

Wild Card Round – Shawn Andrews

Divisional Playoffs – Deuce McAllister

NFC Title Game – The Sex Cannon That Is Rex Grossman

AFC Title Game – Bob Sanders

Super Bowl XLI – Prince

Vote now!

People, Let Me Tell You About My Black Friend

Throughout Black History Month, which, you may heard, is this dreary, short, boring month, well-meaning media organizations will take a special moment to highlight people in the footnotes of history who happened to be black. Like Crispus Attucks, the first person killed in the Boston Massacre (because he had a funny name).

It’s all kind of a tedious affair. And we here at KSK aren’t really students of history. We’re scholars of sexy. So we thought we could properly honor Black History Month and stay true to ourselves (that is, six white guys obsessed with football) by creating a mock draft of famous living black people we’d like to be friends with. Because we like them as people, not as abstractions. Besides, black people are cool and, if movies are any indication, they always help their white friends get soul, perspective, compassion or chicks.

And really, what better can we do to commemorate Black History Month than pretend to divvy up ownership rights of famous black people?

I mean, um, that is to say, uh… w-we… try to understand that…uh…”ARTICULATE” WAS MEANT AS A COMPLIMENT!

The draft came about in quite a spur of the moment fashion in our e-mail ramblings, so the order of picks didn’t reflect our respective need of blackness. If structured correctly, Caveman would probably pick first by virtue of his eerie pallor and Unsilent would go last, secure in his supreme pretend-blackness. Also, in the spirit of fairness (who knew this would first emerge during an offseason mock draft?) the order was serpentine. We tried to provide a little about what thought, if any, was going into each pick.

Round 1

MMP: Oprah

“Large, wealthy nubian princess. Plus she’s already a lesbian so I wouldn’t have to fuck her. I’d get on TV and have my own show by November sweeps.”

CC: Jay-Z

“Oprah : Mario Williams :: Jay-Z : Reggie Bush”

BDD: Don Cheadle

Drew said something about this being a sleeper pick. Cheadle’s coolness cannot be disputed but I think the real reason Drew went this route is because he’s just so smitten by the Reign Over Me trailer.

Unsilent: Halle Berry

UM didn’t give much in the way of explanation other than general slobbering. Maybe Halle can use her Storm weather controlling powers to make all this fucking snow go away.

flubby: Chris Rock

“Chappelle seems like a tweaker. He can’t be my friend. I took Chris Rock because Shirley Hemphill is dead.”

Ape: Mos Def

Amazing rapper and even a skilled actor. He also played the representative of the black delegation in Chappelle’s racial draft, so he’s a true figurehead. You can keep your retired rappers, CC.

All right. Nothing but entertainers. And Oprah. The NAACP and Bill Cosby are thrilled.

Round 2

Ape: Robert Mugabe

Before you criticize, I should at least get credit for picking a non-athlete/entertainer/rapper. Black murderous potentate is the new black head coach. I think he can get over the whole “white devil” thing. And while Zimbabwe isn’t a thriving country by any means, controlling all the resources of even a poor country has to be worth something.

flubby: George Clinton

A fine pick, I must admit. At this point, we’re all just astounded that Berman didn’t tip any of these picks, mainly because we’d have to go a Brazilion rounds before any of us considered taking TJ.

Unsilent: Russell Simmons

Lots to like here: Hip-hop pioneer, activist, former husband of Hines Ward’s fantasy girl. But Simmons is a vegan and Unsilent has already polished off a quarter chicken through the first round of this thing.

BDD: Michael Jordan

Drew knows Jordan can market anything, even Tupperware shits and beer guts. Jordan can school Drew in the wonders of adultery, among other things.

CC: Barack Obama

“Dude might be the next president; seems approachable and humorous; Dan Shanoff likes him.”

MMP: Will Smith

The actor/rapper and not the Saints defensive end. Clearly MMP is going for the “non-threatening to white people and earners of large sums of money” angle.

Round 3

MMP: Gabrielle Union

Or not. Union is sexy and a talented actr…okay, she’s talented at being sexy.

CC: Clinton Portis

“I desperately wanted Rihanna with this pick, but ultimately felt it was a wiser choice to go with the Miami alum with the stripper pole in his basement.”

BDD: Big Boi

Drew immediately claimed victory in the draft with this pick of, he said, the most talented member of Outkast. Caveman and Unsilent strenuously object, aver that Andre 3000 is the most Southernplayaistic. Says Caveman: “Of course, I’m gay for things like style, so that counts extra for me.”

Unsilent: Tiger Woods

Unsilent surprisingly spurns Gilbert Arenas, who later vows to torch UM for 50 points in Madden.

“Say what you want about his surly demeanor or his chess club celebrations, he’s still a cool guy. I love golf and with Tiger at my side I could play anywhere in the world. My dream foursome would include Tiger, Elin, and Elin’s (single?) twin sister Josephin–yeah, I’m all over that. Downside: Jimmy Roberts hiding in my bushes. “

flubby: Black Jesus

flubby didn’t elaborate too much with this one, so we all just took it to mean he was picking Morgan Freeman.

Ape: Zadie Smith

She’s beautiful and brilliant. And British, if you’ll excuse the cheap alliteration. White Teeth is a great novel and I heard On Beauty was as well.

So there you have it. Let us know who you think might have won (racism, possibly) and who we should have taken. Like me, ferinstance. Robert Mugabe? What the fuck was I thinking?

A VD Treat We Can Get Behind

Valentine’s Day, in a word, is bullshit.

If you’re a guy and you’re with someone, there’s an expectation that just never seems capable of being met. Any sort of conceivable gift seems to be either too inexpensive or not thoughtful enough. And if you don’t give her jewelry or a cell phone, then you’re just a fucking asshole.

The fact is that women don’t really care what they get, they just want ammunition so that they don’t get mowed down during the “What’d you get for VD” conversation with their friends, one of whom, statistically speaking, is (a) sure to be such a contrived cunt that she might as well be pacing in front of a giant American flag while wearing a helmet, and (b) always manages to find some guy stupid enough to spend time with her on V-Day. It’s not even about the premise of love, it’s about competing with the Cunty Pattons of the world. And if you’re not with someone, well, this day just blows even more.

So imagine our joy when somebody actually gave US something for Valentine’s Day. Oh yes. KSK self-professed lurker Spiderannn sent us this YouTube masterpiece, featuring some of our favorite images from our KSK playoff posts, a healthy dose of wit bordering on smarmy, and a couple digs at Ufford, which is always fun. Yeah, I guess I’m calling him Ufford now. It’s better than “The Uff,” at least.

Enjoy the movie, while I attempt to track down this young(?) woman and persuade her to conceive my children. Or at least buy her a cell phone. This clip will be our only item for the day, so if you have any sort of VD to pass along, we’d love to hear from you in the comments.

KSK Clip Show: The Best Of Big Daddy Drew

You’ll have to forgive the housekeeping post, but since the season is over I wanted to make a post that linked to my favorite shit during the season. Some of this shit is obvious, some is stuff that amuses me and no one else. If you haven’t read any of these, well then you’re just a fucker now, aren’t you?

PS – I know this list is long. Fuck you. These posts are my children. My very deformed, retarded children. So suck my peepee.

The original Rex Grossman post

The Eli Manning post

I pray to Jesus to kill Brandon Jacobs

The 2006 Drinking and Drugging Preview

Photos of my beer gut (Ladies, this post is not safe for panties)

The original Bill Simmons rant (where I call him a fucktard and Malcolm Gladwell comments)

Bitter Peyton Manning

Peter King gay porn

The Lupica parody

The Easterbrook parody

Mile high airlines

The Eagles fan guide to projectile weaponry

Your KSK Xmas guide and Thanksgiving guide

The OJ parody (the one where I poop in Tupperware)

In defense of really fucking old QB’s

Awkwardness with Brian Griese and Damien Woody

The world’s fucking awesomest pregame playlist

You can be a Hall of Famer!

Willie Roaf is a bastard

Why the NFL is the greatest thing ever

The Vikings bye week itinerary

I think I had a heart attack

And there’s your clip show. I dare you to find a better conpendium of football-related dick jokes. In terms of bodies of work, this one rates a solid Stacy Kiebler.

Meast of the Year vote later this week.

Russell Dalrymple Loves Tiki Barber; Pasta Primavera

Never stare at the underage cleavage of the NBC

The news we’ve all been waiting for has finally arrived, Tiki Barber is set to add some REAL color to NBC’s Peacock. As expected the gregarious ex-Giant will be filling some sort of role with the network’s Sunday Night Football package. It’s still unsure as to whether Tiki will join the broadcast booth, or if they’ll just stick his bronzed visage on the studio set to offset the pre-existing ugly.

If I were NBC I’d put him in the studio (then I’d take over GE in a bloody coup). In fact, I bet he could do the job every other guy they pay to mug for the camera. He’s a smarmy pretty boy like Costas, people in football will open up to him like PK, he knows stuff about football like Collinsworth, and he’s black like Bettis and Sharpe (keep in mind this is NBC talking not me; I don’t think white people should be allowed on television at all).

Besides his jock-obligation to the football broadcast Tiki’s going to fill an as of yet unspecified roll with the Today show. I’ve never seen the program but I’m told it involves semi-literate people from Billings/Duluth/Texarkana holding signs wishing happy birthday to somebody that wishes they died ten years ago.

This is either Tiki and Ginny or Ronde and Claudia. Only they know the truth.

I can’t help but guess that this part of the career move was inspired by Tiki’s lovely wife Ginny (my great aunt will be thrilled to know they’re still using that name). Behind every great man is a woman who knows where the money’s at, and it’s not limited to Tiki. In fact behind a lot of great black men are smart and sexy Asian women (just ask Russell Simmons and Sugar Shane Mosley). As if I needed any further reason this just about settles it…as soon as I’m a successful proud black man I’m gettin’ me a sexy Asian wife (I’m lookin’ at you, Redskinette Lisa).

There should be a press conference at some point today, but you don’t care.

Today In An NFL-Related Post:Schottenheimer Lost In Parking Lot Fired

A. J. Smith has had enough of Marty Schottenheimer’s bullshit.

The Chargers GM fired his head coach after tensions boiled over regarding decisions on how Schottenheimer rebuild his staff. Smith’s suggestion to hire Ted Cottrell as his new defensive coordinator, and Schottenheimer’s reply of telling Smith to go fuck himself, seemed to be the last straw. That is, if you don’t count that choke job/reinforcement of je ne suis pas clutch in the playoffs last month. And the year before that. And, like, every year, um ever.

It seemed that Marty wanted his brother Kurt, an assistant at Kansas City, to interview for that position, among others. Smith and team president Dean Wimmer didn’t want Jeff Bowden Jay Paterno Marty’s brother joining the staff. Dean went on to explain that his vote of confidence in Schottzie the previous month was based on the assumption that the staff would not be pillaged like a Cincinnati storefront circa 2001.

We suspect Marty’s taking the news in stride, despite the fact that the firing comes rather late in this phase of the offseason. He’ll almost certainly be sitting out for 2007, probably to work on his model train set or that tomato garden he can’t stop messing around. A close relative of the former head coach shared this account, regarding Schottenheimer’s trip to a local retail outlet after cleaning out his desk yesterday afternoon:

So who’s replacing Marty? Is the answer Jesus? Cottrell? Bill Cowher, maybe? Former Cowboys coach Jimmy Johnson’s name is being mentioned, even. I’m pulling for Ron Rivera; I think he can take this team to the next level. Besides, I’m sick of seeing a black coach win the Super Bowl every year.