Sunday, July 5, 2009


Since I have no access to any of these people, I’ve made up all these letters. In other words, none of these people actually provided these responses. So, if you are one of these people, and you actually read this (which I’m confident is not likely, please don’t sue me.)

Redskins blogger Matt Terl writes:

Dear Stephen, there’s only one official Redskins blogger, ya dig? If I ever catch you trying to play paintball with my best friend Rocky McIntosh, I will rain Matt Teri hellfire (that’s my alter ego, and is double the strength of Matt Terl hellfire) down upon you like I did that to that bowling podcast nerd.

Me: Matt, I will do my best to respect your turf, but if Mike Williams ever invites me over to cook my famous Bison on a Stick, all bets are off.

Chris Cooley writes:

Stephen, what did you think of my video trip to Wyoming?

Me: Thanks for asking, 47. I enjoy everything Cooley, however, to be honest, all I could think of throughout the whole drive was – Why are you filming while driving?! And there’s dogs in the car! This scared the shit out of me – and I lived in fear (until you arrived safely in Wyoming) that you’d end up unconscious in a ditch with a Yorkie peeing on you. And a Cowboy fan would not only NOT help you, but film it. So Chris, listen up. Every great tight end who has ever played in the NFL was recently polled on their tips to excel. Here’s what they have said (and you can look this up): 1) Practice, practice, practice, 2) Watch film, 3) Keep your body in great shape, 4) Avoid being drenched by Yorkie piss.

So don’t ignore their advice! On the drive back, either let Christy hold the camera -- or strap it on to one of the dogs. I can put up with shots of them licking their balls for a few minutes if it means you’ll be intact for the season. Thanks.

Clinton Portis writes:

Stephen, my pockets are straight. But I realize in this difficult economic climate that not everyone’s are. So I’m opening up “Portis Pockets Straight Consulting Firm.” Can you get the word out?

Me: In the words of your coach, “Ab-so-looooot-ely.” And I will gladly sign up for your service, as my pockets are not straight. They’re the opposite of straight. They’re crooked. And all they have in them is lint.

By the way, any chance Coach Janky Spanky will be leading any kind of seminar? Or does he teach an ENTIRELY different subject? Either way, I think there’s a lot to be learned from him.

Dan Steinberg (of the D.C. Sports Bog at Washington Post) writes:

Dear Stephen, if you ever, ever, ever blog about cheese, that catheter in the cock thing you talked about in your very first post will feel like a day at the park compared to what I’ll do to you. We clear?

Me: After careful consideration, I’ve decided to honor this request.

Coach Zorn writes:

Dear Stephen, I’ve often wondered what would happen if in the middle of a game, a wayward bird swoops down and accidentally gets caught in my quarterback’s facemask -- and then out of fear pecks several holes into his forehead. Are there any drills I can do to prevent this possible problem? I have no idea who you are, or if you’d know the answer to this question, but I’m asking everyone.

Me: Coach, since you have asked, I’ve consulted many pecking experts and with their help, I’ve come up with how you should handle this. Basically, this potential problem would require two drills. The first would be similar to your dodgeball drill, but should be done in an enclosed space like an elevator, with about ten woodpeckers (definitely not an eagle, seahawk, cardinal, or falcon) fed on nothing but roids and sugar.

Then you need a drill for how to react to the likely pecking. I know there was some Robert Redford movie made about horse whispering a few years back, and so I think the answer is – a drill involving bird whispering. The goal would be to soothe the nerves of the attacking fowl before it began its vicious assault. Your QB MUST tell the bird that they like them, and that they understand their anger, and that they are on their side. Then they must promise the bird that they'll never conk it on the head and drop it in a deep fryer… I think doing those things will solve the problem, if it should ever happen. I’m very glad I could be helpful here.

Stephen’s Mom writes:

Dear Stephen, please get a real job. I’m begging you.

Me: No.

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