Yesterday me and my esteemed colleague Devonte Smith were sitting around kicking the fat when who’s face should appear on television? Why it was Brett Favre of course, you all remember him right? He’s the over-the-hill-do gooder-son of a bitch-motherfucker who could have retired a playground legend and spent his twilight years getting busy with every available chick in all of Wisconsin. But instead he chose to corrupt my wonderfully dirty city of New York by bringing his Peter Pan syndrome over here to East Coast. Have some damn respect for yourself Brett, hang it the fuck up and keep it hung the fuck up. People in Wisconsin loved you, you had a lifetime of free drinks to look forward to and now what do you have? Two things Brett, Jack and shit, and Jack left town.
Anyway, it was a post game interview and the sound on the TV was muted. I didn’t catch the game that day, so when I asked D. Smith whether or not the Jets won, I immediately corrected myself by exclaiming “What am I talking about, OF COURSE they won! Favre isn’t bawling his eyes out for the press, which means victory.” Sure enough The Jets won, 20-14.
This fucking guy I swear…… He’s a damn cry baby boyscout. There’s no room for this pussy in my town. (I should mention that me and Brett Favre tangling ass in a no holds barred street fight, even with his gray pubic hair, Brett would annihilate me in under 4 seconds. Luckily in this day and age beating an anemic drunkard senseless doesn’t make you a gridiron legend.)
– Mike James
he needs to retire