From: joemahoney1950@gmail.com   
      
   My fellow fellaters of the florid fungus; my lackey lovers of the livid lichen.   
      
   Like me, you all spent the previous evening glued to the roaring television in   
   a state of ecstasy, slurping Bud Lite, chomping down bag upon bag of chips,   
   hogging down hot dogs, belching farting and screaming in your funnily falsetto   
   voices.  It was    
   rapture.  It was Heaven on earth.  It was as if we were all writhing together   
   in a bathtub of Cheez-Whiz.   
      
   But why, exactly, do we all fixate on football so much?   Goodness knows,   
   we're too fat to actually play it; we just watch it, usually leaving mounds of   
   excrement in whatever unfortunate (and now, most likely, broken) piece of   
   furniture we reclined upon.    
    That's the subject of today's sermon.  So get out whatever remains of last   
   night's bacchanalia of belching, and listen rapt to your Pastor Joe.     
      
   Part of our love of football is simply in the visceral pleasure of seeing   
   bunches of grown (indeed, LARGE) men banging their heads and clutching for   
   balls, and then competing to see who can grip that swollen scrotum the hardest   
   and longest.  There's the    
   grunting and screaming.  Sometimes there's blood and/or injury, but that's par   
   for the course.   
      
   That's sufficient in itself to explain our obsession.  But of course there's   
   much more.  There's what goes on BEHIND THE SCENES.  You know.  IN THE LOCKER   
   ROOM.  There's the praying together.  There's the burping.  There's the   
   sodomy.  There's the    
   combined stench of sweat, semen and feces.     
      
   But there is even more.  Why, just consider who the heroes of our team are.    
   Tom Brady -- just hearing the name takes us back to our teenage years, when we   
   were finding out that God made us special, and as we watched the Brady Bunch,   
   how we yearned to    
   have Mike Brady (Robert Reed - RIP) as our dad, taking us into the closet for   
   a little discipline.  And the men who wrote the scripts for the show were   
   also, you know, like us.   
      
   Now after Brady, we else do us sweaty, stenchy sodomistic old alt-righters   
   love in football?   Why Ron Gronkowski, of course!     
      
   Or should I say Ron 'Tight End' Gronkowski.   
      
   Nuff said   
      
   Joe "spiritual not religious"; "Large and in Charge" M.   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)