Once again, courtesy of Matt S., the proclamations of the King of the Lions Fans appeared in my inbox, as if by magic, and so I feel duty bound, both to all of you and to my liege, the good king, to spread his message unto the world, so that one day we may know peace and happiness in every corner of our realm. Hark! 'Tis a day of great celebration and wondrous joy. Shit, this stuff is catchy. Anyway, here it is, and once again, thanks to Matt S. for proving that, if nothing else, we Lions fans are creative and strange sons of bitches. Naturally, I mean that in the best way. Anyway, the latest from the King of the Lions Fans:
HAVE A MOUTH-FUL OF WAX, YOU CRAVEN DOGS, SO THAT YOUR SLOBBERING TONGUES MIGHT BUFF MINE ROYAL ORBS TO A MIGHTY GLOW!
FOR TOO LONG, the King’s legions have found naught but defeat beyond the sacred borders of De-Troit. The fort-nights have numbered four-score-and-two since last the King’s armies have tasted victory at a foreign out-post. We fell on our own swords in Newe Jersey. Our dead washed up in a tide most frothy upon the shores of Lake Minne-tonka. And do not even ask the King about the blighted expanses of Chi-ca-go, where we choked down Fortune’s toxic seed in a debacle so foul, it vanquished forever the notion that the heavens could play seat to Gods of honor or worth.
But no longer. For much like the King’s brief dalliance with low-cal skinn’d potatoes, this era of futility has come to an end. A merciful, pork-laden end, slathered in soured-cream and topped with golden-fried glory.
Some time after breakfast, the King’s Armada descended upon the waters of the Bay of Tampa and stained them red with Buccaneer’s blood. Reeking of scurvy and failure, these wretches fancied themselves dread pirates, but were proven to be little more than a glittering cadre of cabin boys before the King’s cannon thunder. Would that they had spent the previous week planning for battle, instead of mincing around below deck, plucking barnacles from each other’s cod-pieces with their gangrenous lizards’ tongues.
For the second time in a fort-night, the King’s finest have waved his flag in victory. One triumph is an occasion for cele’bration. Two is cause for an orgy of violence, sex and ranch dressing and that would make Bacchus himself blush in modesty. But tonight the King finds himself within not a serving wench, but contemplation instead.
For you see, the King has developed a taste for victory, and he would see his royal belly stretched.
I HEREBY DECREE that all territories of the globe tremble now under the greased fist of the King of the Lions Fans!
I HEREBY DECREE that all enemy forces lay down their swords and embrace the King’s shallow-breathed love!
I HEREBY DECREE that from now on, nothing goes down unless the King is involved. No chequers, no indulgences, no nothing. A flagon of mead gets sold in the square, I want in. You knaves got fat while everybody starved on the street. Now it's the King’s turn.
The King’s armies embark now upon a righteous crusade, one that will ensure that their bravery echoes throughout history eternal. For centuries, the people of De-Troit have huddled around flaming garbage cans and hallowed-out chariots to hear the Elder’s talk in whispered tones of the fabled “play-offs”. Long thought to be little more than legend, the mythical Tournament of Champions appears now before us like a dream made real. We shall hold this Tournament by its ankles and use it to fuck-plow the Elysian fields of victory. We shall carve our names into Lombardi’s Silver Chalice, and raise it high above the withered corpses of our enemies. We shall strew it with their entrails, and drink from it the blood of their children. W shall conquer…
…speak up, knave. The King cannot hear you from down there.
…Hmmm.
…I see.
The King has been informed by this soon-to-be-quartered messenger that the Tournament of Champions will not be extending an invite to his fearsome armies. This is…most disappointing.
Well, then, maybe next harvest. Until then, let there be milkshakes.
All hail the King.
5 comments:
I love that while other fanbases have 'things' like barking or cheeseheads or smug douchiness to bind them together, we apparently have violence and fellatio. Take THAT other stupid teams, with your crack baby and auto industry jokes! We have distilled America and football to it's essence.
(I for one am just grateful that pictures of monkeys have not become our collective thing, as I was worried it might, because while I can accept Dick Stockton rapes as part of a necessary lesson for growth, I never want to see that monkey hand ever again.)
I am so HAPPY today. Just ridiculously happy. :D That was the most satisfying game I can remember watching for some reason (of course, if I hadn't been a loser and watched the Green Bay game, that might have been more satisfying, I don't know) And what an amazingly psychic prediction post, so I can't wait to see the recap of this. If everyone else is apologizing to Stanton, I guess I have to apologize to Linehan. I still think his plans were somewhat goofy early on, but what do I know. An OC who can scheme his way around problematic quarterbacks is not something to be sneered at for any Lions' fan. I am still a Cunningham fangirl, now and forever, though.
So...anyways, this guest post was great, your lead up and recaps were great, if UpHere chimes in that will ALSO be great. I'm a tiny cog in a GENIUS fanbase and I'm VERY VERY happy today. An actual game has become my fave thing about the season replacing 'Haha! I like it when Jim Schwartz yells at the sky' and that can only be good.
One of my favorite things about doing this has been finding like minded and creative people to go through whatever the hell being a Lions fan means together.
There is something unique about Lions fandom and the way that we deal with things and I like to think that this comes out in its purest form here. No one holds back and that's a good thing, you know?
This place has a weird energy that is fun and smart and a big reason for that is the commenters and the people who send me things and all of that. For a while, I just felt like a crazy person gibbering into a bullhorn on the street corner and I still kinda feel that way, but I like to think there is an attitude here that extends from my stuff down to the comments and then that attitude bounces back up and swirls all around and feeds what I do and gives other people ideas, and ... well, it ends up being an organic thing, you know? And so I thank you, CJ, and all the rest of the awesome commenters here for taking this whole thing to another level. If there is any genius here, it is all of ours and it belongs to all of us.
Also, come on, CJ, let love for that little monkey open the door to your heart. I love that little guy even if no one else does.
I told you! All it takes is a 2 game win streak and suddenly you feel like you can take on the entire world and win, and win easily. Win streaks make you feel GOOD.
Also, as far as I could tell from the FOX-BOX, the Lions tied Tampa in the final seconds in regulation and then won in overtime; a psychic/karmic reversal of how the Jets game ended, which may be more important/valuable than a simple win. While you could argue that the Bucs aren't as good as the Jets, I could easily counter argue A) So What B) They're closer in talent than most people think C) The Bucs are still a playoff team this year, or at least they would be if my beloved NFC West wasn't stealing the #4 Seed this season at 7-9.
So yeah, good on The Lions finally getting that 1st road win. And think about it: Drew Stanton has as many wins this year as Alex Smith and more wins than Tony Romo; that almost makes me want to sing a Christmas Carol or two.
Also, UpHere disappeared to Antigua for a couple of weeks and has been laying on a beach fucking the sun instead of watching football. We have both decided that this is the direct cause for the team's modest winning streak and have determined that our only course of action is to keep him permanently stationed there with an umbrella drink in his hand and a gang of half-naked natives to cool him with palm fronds and see to his, uh, other needs.
"Also, as far as I could tell from the FOX-BOX, the Lions tied Tampa in the final seconds in regulation and then won in overtime; a psychic/karmic reversal of how the Jets game ended, which may be more important/valuable than a simple win."
Yes, yes, yes. This was something I meant to mention in my post yesterday when I was gibbering about the symmetry of Fate and all that but I was delirious and I inexplicably forgot. But, yes, a million times yes.
Also, this . . .
"And think about it: Drew Stanton has as many wins this year as Alex Smith and more wins than Tony Romo."
. . . is proof that the world is utterly ridiculous.
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