Bengals road-grinder Cedric Benson will not be suspended by NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell for his role in an off-season bar fight.
With a slew of wide receivers armed and ready to fire up the offense, the last thing the Bengals needed was a stalled running game out of the gate, especially due to another suspended cog in the machine. Ced wasn’t guilty, this time. If he were, Goodell would have disposed of him faster than a bag of Cheetos at a Britney Spears dinner party.
But c’mon man! Cogs like Benson, Roethlisberger and Vick – no matter how hard they try – can’t seem to get far or fast enough away from trouble. These guys are guilty of being in the wrong place all the time. They’re attracted to bar fights, shoot-outs, and strippers like flies to a Britney Spears family reunion.
Hell, the houses they buy (yeah, I watch Cribs too) have enough built-in entertainment to make Caligula weep. Feel the need to go to a bar? You already have one on the first floor and one at the pool. Need an erotic dancer to lift your spirits? Ask a few over and let ‘em practice on the stripper’s pole installed your bedroom. And why, for Baby Jesus’ sake, carry a gun outside your home when you’ve got two bodyguards and an Olympic-size shooting range out back?
Never thought these words would come out of my mouth. But I wish Brit Brit was still sweet and innocent. Is that so wrong?
An NFL cog’s life is champagne wishes and caviar dreams. To keep it that way, here’s my tip, free of charge and all meat substitutes. Buy your own private Neverland (where children never grow up) and fill it with all of the bars, strippers, friends, and guns you want. Then, JUST STAY HOME. It’s not like you’re stuck in MY house (now that would be a miserable, lonely existence). Yours is a frakkin’ compound.
C’mon cogs, this is easy stuff. A helluva lot easier that your playbook. Go to practice, work hard, go home, and do it all over again. Like the rest of us. Except for the disappointing fact that our homes are made of canned tuna wishes and cottage cheese dreams.
For a cog to risk blowing his multimillion-dollar privileges – and our chances of winning – so needlessly is about as focused as a Britney Spears haiku.
Plastic Tupperware
Containing bags of Cheetos
Ewwww, pretty flower!
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Dude – thanks, I used to love Cheetos. Now all I’ll ever think about is ‘cheesegasmic’. As for the cogs, great idea!