Good morning, class. Welcome to Happy Friday 101. I’m your instructor E Dagger, and this class will cover the basic ways to slack off at the end of a work week. We’ve got a lot to cover, so please pull out your syllabus and note today’s topics: the NFL, rock n’ roll, frickin’ VD, lesbians (probably not what you’re thinking, or maybe hoping, you caveman) and big ass snakes. Let’s get started.

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If you live in Denver, or Earth for that matter, you’re probably already well aware that the Broncos have signed Peyton Manning to a 5-year, $96 million contract, traded Tim Tebow to the New York Jets (which made little kids cry, apparently), and made our Facebook walls even more insufferable than usual. We’re not here to till any more of this earth as you’ve probably read just about every take under the sun about this, except ours. So we’ll be brief:

The only real reference to Peyton Manning in the CJS archives comes from Happy Friday #80 from February of 2010, in which we wrote: “Since we’re based in Denver, for the 11thconsecutive year, we have no one to root for in this Super Bowl. Oddly enough, we also have no one to root against. Normally we hate at least one of the teams involved in the big game, but this year we have no problem with either team. We used to sort of hate Peyton Manning for no adequately explored reason, but those ingratiating Mastercard commercials coupled with his friendly demeanor warmed us up.”

And now he’s here. We’ll take it. And his Sportscenter commercial with Eli is even better than those Mastercard commercials. But how did we get here? One real answer: John Elway’s giant brass balls. Here’s an excerpt, but you should really read the entire article:

“Only Elway could have gotten away with this. If it had been some other figurehead running the Broncos, they wouldn’t have had enough good will stored up to openly court Manning and prepare to trade away a player who, while lacking in many basic QB skills, is the NFL’s most popular player and a huge audience draw. Elway wasn’t afraid to piss off all the Tebowtards out there (get ready for lots of half-Bronco/half-Jaguar Tebow jerseys next fall). He won two Super Bowls and is the greatest player in Broncos history, which gave him the clout needed to take out his big balls and wipe them across Tim Tebow’s chin.”

And I liked Tebow. I’ll miss him and the whole cockeyed circus that surrounded him. I’ll miss the balls in the dirt five feet in front of players seven yards away just as much as I’ll miss the 35 yard bull runs over linebackers. I’ll miss the exhilaration. I’ll miss the uncharted territory of it all. And I’ll miss how fun it was watching Tebow piss off all the sports pundit tards at the mystery of his success. Especially Merril Hoge, who is a acrid, sanctimonious shit.

But at least we’ll always have Tebowie. Good luck in New York, Tim. Make sure to circumcise your porterhouse from Peter Luger. It’s better that way.

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Forbes compiled a list of the valuations of all 30 MLB teams recently for all of you reading this looking to invest in a professional sports franchise. The Yankees, Dodgers and Red Sox led the list at over a billion dollars each, and coincidentally, are all teams we fucking hate. The Cubs were next at $879 million. Then a bunch of other teams, then the Rockies clocked in at 18th with a value of $464 million (not bad considering the Monforts paid $95 million for the club). And Hart’s beloved A’s were dead last at $321 million.

Not surprising since the poor A’s play in Oakland, which is generally terrible, inside a certified landfill. Seriously, during the offseason they rent out the outfield and waste haulers can dump garbage into it. The grounds crew comes in, re-levels the field and makes it suitable for play come Spring. The stench from the garbage is what makes it so hard to hit homeruns there.

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Closing out the sports portion of today’s class is the most adorable wedding proposal we’ve ever seen at a sporting event. Normally the Battle of Ontario is a bloody one, but it was great to see two bitter rivals come together and tie the knot. The added wrinkle: They’re both women.

Clearly this could only happen in Canada since the US still contains far too many people who think a troglodyte like Rick Santorum is suitable to be President. But this is a great thing all around. Two people find love while enthusiastically enjoying one of our favorite sports. Terrific moment.

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That is one fat pussy.

That’s actually Bumhug preventing me from reading Bret Hart’s book a few years ago. Reason I felt compelled to include it today is anyone’s guess.

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Do you have VD? You wouldn’t, sailor, had you seen these 18 Delightfully Artistic Vintage STD Posters. Because remember, there’s no medicine for regret.

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Aw Christ, Deuce. We were enjoying our week and then you had to drop this bomb onto us which is the finest entrant into the “If It Weren’t For My Horse” pantheon we’ve seen in an extremely long time. For those of you who can’t see this because you’re at work, what we have here is some poor woman getting befuddled by this math question posed by her condescending husband: If you’re traveling 80 mph, how long does it take you to go 80 miles?

Four and a half minutes later, and she’s still in disagreement about the (obvious) answer. She fumbles her way through some fairly inspired, although entirely incorrect and misguided, back of the envelope calculations involving how quickly the tires rotate, her own jogging ability, and whether the car is a stick or an automatic. The whole thing is mystifying, but serves as a good reminder to only marry chicks you meet in graduate school.

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That poor woman clearly needs some additional schooling, and Hollywood has thankfully come to the rescue giving us that reboot of Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn with supernatural elements we’ve all been desperately waiting for, right? Wait, what?

I personally hope… we’ll go with the Family Guy adjustment here… N-Word Jim is just replaced wholesale with Bagger Vance. That way when Tom gets someone else to whitewash the fence for him, kindly old Will Smith in a hat can come up to him and say, “Now fix ya’ eyes on Bobby Jones. That’s focus in connin’ the local boys.” Then Tom Sawyer can finish his golf round while the neighborhood cars use their headlights to illuminate the course and Jack Lemmon can have a heart attack and rejoin Bagger Vance at that great 19th hole in the sky. Also, vampires. This movie will rule.

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Being a dickhead’s cool!

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Rob O’Connor, a blogger for Yahoo Music, wrote a list of dickheads last week called “25 Essential Punk Albums” that inspired Hart and I to trade emails about how much this list sucks with each other all afternoon.

He begins the article stating “Wish so much punk rock around…” Whoa! Stop right there. What the fuck are you even talking about? How is that something someone wrote with a straight face in 2012 when these are the top songs of 2011? Where is all the punk rock? No seriously, where? We want more.

Secondly, his #1 choice is “Nevermind the Bollocks” by the buttfucking Sex Pistols. We are so goddamned sick of everyone deifying the Sex Pistols who were, we’ll say it again, manufactured by a London boutique owner in order to shock people. They’re pre-packaged garbage and their music is fucking terrible to boot.

Under his entry about The Damned (a band I actually like) he writes: “While punk rock has little to no reason for existing today in its manicured form…” What? What about Against Me is manicured? What an insulting load of crap that glib dismissal is. Punk has evolved beyond drug-addled scumbags who hate Led Zeppelin to things like Fat Mike’s Punk Voter project, Thrice’s humanitarian aid from proceeds off “The Artist in the Ambulance,” and Rise Against’s general engagement in leftist causes. I don’t even personally support most of those causes, but I love that music fosters engagement. God, what an idiot.

And under his section about Richard Hell and the Voidoids he writes: “Not punk? Ha! Just shows how limited the term has become.” First of all, who’s arguing Richard Hell isn’t punk? And secondly, you’re not helping, dummy. You’ve successfully pigeonholed punk into this tiny little corner of the music landscape and failed to expand your palate even 1/10th of an inch. Punk’s not just a very small set of aesthetic choices, it’s a philosophy. The Black Keys talking about how Nickelback and Train are terrible and how they want their music not only to shred, but to be the biggest in the world, is pretty punk rock.

This list is ass.

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What definitely is not punk rock is Boston recently cracking down on mosh pits. Jesus, what a fat waste of time. I was in Utah earlier this week and visited some friends. They told me about Utah state police receiving word from snitches sitting in parking lots of Evanston, WY liquor stores who wait for Utah license plates in order to notify cops who can then bust the liquor enthusiasts for transporting alcohol over state lines.

I paid more than $3,000 in income tax this year in addition to whatever was deducted from my paycheck every two weeks, and I would gladly pay that and more IF IT DIDN’T GO TO STUPID SHIT LIKE THE TWO ITEMS MENTIONED ABOVE.

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In better, and nerdier, news, now you too can own your own TIE fighter. I’m not even a Star Wars fan, but I did love that game TIE Fighter on PC when I was in high school, which is probably even dorkier than if I just liked the movie. Whatever. I’d put the cat in there and make him chase down Luke Skywalker because god knows my lard ass isn’t fitting in that cardboard and plywood shamblebox.

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Speaking of the cat, here’s Buttfor on our elliptical trainer.

Good workout. Now it’s off for a steam.

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Straight out of our nightmares comes Titanoboa. I’m really happy this is around since it had been far too long since I’ve embarrassed myself with something snake-related. In fact, the last time was at Keithage’s bachelor party at this alligator wrestling place where they had a collection of all sorts of creepy shit. I was on high alert the whole time and saw something move out of the corner of my eye. I jumped. It was a big old harmless turtle. Everyone laughed. A 7 year-old girl made fun of me. A good time was had by all.

The thing that got me about this article was this sentence, “The predator, which is related to a boa constrictor but actually behaved like an anaconda, lived in water and fed on fish, other titanoboas, and crocodiles (very, very large crocodiles).”

Awesome. What will satisfy the appetite of a titanoboa? Why only another titanoboa, of course. Gah!

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Last Confessional, probably ever! We want to see you all there. What are your top three bucket list travel destinations? Great Wall of China? Hanging Gardens of Babylon? Titanoboa Fantasy Cruise? Wherever you desire to go, we want to hear about. So write it in an email and send it to staff@crujonessociety.com. We’ll put the answers up next week, then you can pack your bags and we’ll gas up the CJS jet.

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We’ll conclude today’s class with a lesson about stereotypes.

Happy Friday, mofo. Anniversary wraps up next week.

edagger@crujonessociety.com