I was waiting to write my first post of the day until Brady Quinn was drafted in the First Round of today's NFL Draft, but at this rate, I wouldn't be composing the verbal ambrosia you've come to expect until late tomorrow afternoon. By that time, Dreamboat Junior would've have bludgeoned his blonde girlfriend (though who could tell – seriously, Mr. Quinn, even if you're drafted in the Fifth Round by the Calgary Stampeders, you can do much better) and have the ash of a carton of cigarettes on his pretty-boy vest. It was so hard for Mel Kiper Jr. to hide his man-love for Brady when the Miami Dolphins selected Ted Ginn Jr. instead. (Wow, that's a lot of Juniors. Have we as a nation depleted our vast supply of first names?)
Now the pundits are talking about some teams trading up to acquire the passed-over Quinn. That's just crazy enough to work. Could the Bears GM, Jerry Angelo, be planning this scheme to challenge his Sex Cannon? Either way, I believe I have been over-served by my lovely draft hostess . . . oh, wait that's a lamp. Still, there's nothing better than spending a beautiful Spring day in a dark, dank basement watching zealous football fanatics boo the best college football has to offer. Don't fret Mr. Quinn, I was once a victim of "No Irish Need Apply" as well, and look how far I have come. -KD
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