It’s over folks. I gave it everything I had, we all did. But the two photographs of Billy Penn I placed, facing eastward, in Flagstaff, Arizona were not enough to win over the Fat Angry Quaker.
I’ve already got plans for next year. More Billy, more places. Because that’s what Philly fans do, they plan for next year as soon as this season goes down the shitter.
Losing to the Saints like that, it just kills me.
Subject: Re: Jinx fears arise with Garcia on Sports Illustrated cover
Ever have a song, or even worse, a stupid jingle that just continues to play over and over in your head? I remember this stupid Double Mint Gum commercial, “Two mints are better than one”, little ditty that I could not stop singing when I was a teenager. That has now been replaced with the sight of Dirk Johnson coming onto the field with 1:54 to go, in what eventually was the last game of the season for the Iggles. A season of hope dashed by no hope what so ever. I said he is a fat man with a mustache and I believe I am right. In San Diego they are calling for Marty Shottenheimer to be fired and it looks as if they will, now that they cancelled his usual Monday press conference. Why can’t that question come up in Philly? Brad Childress will win a Super Bowl before FMWM. I’ll even go on record as saying the awful, pathetic, one playoff win in 47 years Arizona Cardinals will win one before this rich cow gets one in Philly. I mean, Big Johnny goes to all this trouble to dispel the curse of Fat Bastard Billy Penn and for what? Again, we talk about a fat man. Get me a thin coach. Please!!!!! And stop playing that fucking Double Mint commercial over and over in my head!!
Schottenheimer ducked a bullet this week, and will be around for at least another year in San Diego. But he declined to lengthen his contract past then.
And Philly is looking at another year what FMWM as the helm. His steady hands on the wheel, I mean, donut, he’ll steer the Eagles to victory, I mean straight into the rocks. His clear eyes, I mean, eyes clouded with pork fat, surveying the field, he’ll see what needs to be done. And he’ll order two cheese steaks with the works, to go, a dozen wings and a diet Pepsi.
Thanks for nothing, you fat bastard. Don’t choke on a bagel before next season, ok? I’d hate to see what the boys could do without you around.by