Now Let's Score Some Fucking Points

Okay, I can't complain. The Skins are 5-2. They have started to win games they would've lost the previous 10 years of my life. But every game goes down to some bullshit at the end. No game this year has been decided by double digit points. So my request to you, Redskins, overlords of my autumnal emotions, is to start fucking running some points up. Get some ballhawking going on defense. Fuck this close shit. I want the game over by halftime so I can not drink slowly out of worry, but drink heavily out of delirium. I know pounding out the running game is great and smashmouth football, which I love to see, but let's take that smashmouth metaphor too far like I'm a shitty writer in a newspaper alt-weekly. If you are smashmouthing motherfuckers, you do not want it to go the bell of the final round, because wacky shit might happen, and you lose. Happens all the time. If you are going to smashmouth, stomp the motherfucker out of commission completely after smashing them in the mouth. When you let people get back up, they are pissed from their bloody lip, and will gladly accept lucky shortcuts to get over on your ass. So start stomping on some motherfuckers. Run back some interceptions for TDs. I know Jason Campbell hasn't thrown an interception in 17,000 pass attempts or some shit, but fuck it man, throw it downfield. I mean, we have Chris Cooley (who is a better Jeremy Shockey than Shockey) and Santana Moss (who is an older Santana Moss than Moss)... we ought to be able to punch the shit inside the end zone. And throw some sort of stimulant in that oxygen tank Clinton Portis is sucking on after every three plays. I got no gripes with C.P. because Riggins used to do the same thing... actually, Riggins never really busted open too many long runs, and those fast fleet-footed fuckers tend to fumble. So do your thing Portis. You are the black John Riggins, and if you want to wear #44 from here on, you're probably the only person I'd ever be comfortable with that happening.
We play the Lions this weekend, but I am broke, and self-employed, so most likely I'll be painting a neurosurgeons wrought iron (not a sexual euphemism, though it does sound like one) on Sunday, listening to the game on the AM radio I have that has fallen from at least 40 feet in the air twice and survived. I paid ten dollars for it one time in Indiana so me and my boy Boogie Brown could listen to DJ Screw tapes in our shitty hotel room. It might rain though, which means I'll stay home, get drunk, and watch the game on the TV. And you motherfuckers better have it wrapped up by halftime. Fuck all this slow 1st quarter bullshit. You are shaving years off my life, and I am the perfect demographic of upwardly mobile white dude who would conceivably buy a bunch of useless shit with Redskins on it in ten years. The longer it takes you to win, the more you fuck yourselves.