The Bears Still Druck

Put your arms up! I didn't say Simon says. Now GET THE DRUCK OUTTA CHICAGO.

There were so MANY disgusting moments during last night’s game that it’s hard to pick just one, but I can do it. It’s when the announcer said, “See? Lovie Smith coaches effort.” WHAT THE DRUCK?! Have you been ASLEEP all season, sir?

Thanks old man Favre, for making Lovie look good. THANKS A LOT.

FAVRE: Hey man, you’re from here, right?
CUTLER: Actually I’m from Santa Claus, Indiana.
FAVRE: What’s that? Speak up, sonny. Don’t hear as good as I useta.
CUTLER: Never mind.
FAVRE: Damn I’m cold. What say you go scare me up a triple Venti nonfat Creme Brulée latte with extra whip? There’s gotta be a Starbucks somewhere near this toilet bowl of a stadium. Be a good boy. Here’s a quarter.
FAVRE: Listen, pipsqueak. I’ve been in this league for 19 years to your four. So don’t go getting too big for your baby Bear britches. I crap biggern’ you.

And then, there was this:

This pic is titled tillmanouchie. Don't think I can improve it.

NOOOOOO. Not Peanut! By far, the worst thing that’s happened in a wasted season — Charles Tillman writhing in agony on the field, unable even to raise a thumbs-up sign for the fans. Blah blah Urlacher, Hester and Knox. Tillman plays with HEART. Dear Peanut, I hope your broken ribs heal quickly and that your team works hard to be worthy of your unselfish efforts next season.

And last but not least — you’re welcome, New Orleans!


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One response to “The Bears Still Druck

  1. Pingback: Happy New Year, Mother Druckers! « Mother Drucker

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