I spent the last couple of days in agony. Agony because I was felled by a sinister plot hatched by our bovine nemeses.
I've written of this threat before, but evidently even I am susceptible to overlooking this clear and present danger to our American way of life. "Sure, they're always mooing, prophesying our doom, and seeing our extinction in their vacant black-eyed stares, but we eat them! Aside for some e.coli and Mad Cow, does anyone among us really suffer?"
I am here to tell you that I am on the bloody, smelly front in this gruesome struggle. Because I am one of the many who suffer from their vile biological weapons. And now I have to sleep on the couch because of it. Don't you see? These dopey bastards are attacking marriage, the fundamental pillar of our nuclear families!
I am lactose intolerant. This does not make me a bigot. I mean sure, I hate tall people, and men with very tiny chins. Women who can't pronounce the letter Q. Elderly folk who don't think it was better when they were young. And P.Diddy. But I am no racist. My intolerance is biological, according to my doctor, Nick Riviera.
Milk has its place. Milkshakes, cereal, mixed with Nestle Quik - not Ovaltine, because that's the devil's chocolate. Swiss Miss is a dirty whore.
Cows have developed this chemical as a weapon against the human race, to debilitate us so they can conquer us all. Lactaid is no shield - eventually our bodies acclimate to its power, and we are again relegated to the bathroom for hours, leaving it a dead zone, where nothing may grow again.
For three days after eating ravioli, an "innocent bystander," I was a noxious geyser of unpleasantness. Wife banished me to the basement. I haven't seen Child in a week. Someone with a deep voice was making Wife laugh hysterically last night - I can only assume Child has gone through puberty in my absence.
Once I warned you never to abandon the consumption of beef in all its forms. I come to you again with another responsibility:
Stop eating dairy. Stop drinking milk, stop eating cheese. Do not support the amoral, venal practice of keeping cows alive just so they can poison us with their parmesan cheese, their ice creams. It's a sacrifice, no question. I love pizza, and ice cream, and Wacky Mac macaroni and cheese. But I will not abandon my species for some cheesy fries. And neither should you. So put the mozzarella stick on the table, and back away.
Meanwhile the Bears lost to the Titans because their defense is intimidating in name only. You argue their run defense is amazing, and held Chris Johnson and LenDale White to under 30 yards total. I counter with the fact that KERRY COLLINS picked them apart like a three-day-old Thanksgiving turkey carcass.
Here's a fun fact about Kerry Collins that I don't think you knew - three months ago I was walking along the street when a homeless guy asked me for change, then fumbled the quarter I handed him. That man? Kerry Collins.
So don't tell me that the Bears defense is so great. They're getting by on reputation alone, and that's not even so stellar anymore. They're the new Ravens, which were the old Bears. So that means that in a few weeks Brian Urlacher is going to kill someone, then get away with it. That should be exciting.
Rex Grossman had another typical Sex Cannon-y day - 50% completion rate, 1 TD, 1 pick, 30 cheerleaders knocked up. Maybe a new nickname would be better: the Quarter. Flip it 5 million times, and half the time it comes up heads, the other half it gets picked off or fumbles the ball.