New Orleans Saints 2018 Preview or Fete for the Lwa

yeah right

yeah right

yeah right is a lifelong Vikings fan. Loves to cook but doesn’t plate. Loves to drink but hates hangovers. Loves to read. Has no regrets.
yeah right

Banner Image is the real Marie Laveau

 

Hello kiddies! I’m back.

Here at the nervous hospital where I have been requested to stay they felt (the fools) safe enough to swing open the doors of the mentally wounded and desperately depraved ward and let me have a visit but this visit comes with a task.

A task that at one time wouldn’t have felt so much like a burden, but beware this task involves ghosts and savages and glimpses into the past. And that’s not the scary part. The future is where the real madness awaits.

Now this task involves a game, a game that I have shed tears over, but there are so many questions left unanswered.

Where is this game, this whole league headed? I don’t even understand my beloved game anymore and now I’ve been tasked to preview the upcoming year, or perhaps more succinctly put, preview the misery of being a Saints fan.

Que the Talking Heads

 

I think I would rather pick up a really big rock and hit myself in the head a couple of times, less painful and quicker.

Everyone remembers how last year ended, I dare any of you football experts to watch the last 60 seconds of that nightmare NFC divisional playoff game . You can see it on the Vikings faces. They had their asses kicked and they knew it and then out of nowhere the demons rose up from their very graves and took possession of the souls of my entire team.

This calls for an immediate and dangerous response. This calls for an exorcism but not just any ordinary exorcism. You see this one requires a sacrifice of sweat, blood and an ugly little spud of a voodoo doll.

We’re going to have to go back, (“No” your brain screams in horror. “Remember what happened last time?”)

to New Orleans. There is someone I have to find or speak to even though she’s dead.

Damn I can feel the bugs crawling on my skin again,

For I am the devil and there’s devil work to be done..

This trip begins in St Louis #1 (if you don’t know it, learn it.) Alright listen up this is a cemetery so be respectful. For this to even have a chance to work I will need help from the high priestess herself. That’s right I’m talking about Marie Laveau.

I know I know but Angela Basset is so beautiful

For this exorcism ritual to work I will need some blood and an offering. She is said to like whiskey and gold. I have to believe, I mean really believe, anything can happen doing one of these voodoo curse things so I have to be prepared. First light a candle and grab your sacrificial knife, hey did you know their’s a legend that she came back from the dead once (another part of the legend is she had an affair at a very young age with someone associated with her church – she was 13 at the time and had a daughter out of wedlock)? Following the decorum of the time she kept the child hidden being only 14 years apart in age they were said to have both been very beautiful and looked very much alike so some folks said that after her mother died people saw her and thought stupidly that she was her mom. If she can come back from the dead, hell maybe she can retake control of the souls of my football team.

Hey shut up, it’s worth a try.

The ritual goes something like this

Artist rendering

 

Knock ever so gently on the grave so as not to piss her off,

Yes that is my arm with the stupid Fleur De Lis 

 

offer your tidings, bless her spirit in drink and prayers, now leave this unholy place and then let the magic be. If it’s the demons’ will, your dark prayers may yet still come true. If not I guess my team is going to keep right on sucking. Shit.

Where was I going with witches and demons again? Oh yeah the 2018 Saints football preview.

Ill get to that but first I have a couple of questions; now what is a catch? Go ahead ponder I’ll wait, and what is an intentional “lead hit” with your helmet? Can a running back or receiver lead with their heads? Watch closely and you will see that most of the time it’s not the defense it’s the offense leading with their heads. So will they be fined, friend shamed and spanked publicly?

Did you watch the first game of the season, the Hall of Fame game? What the fuck was that? It looked like Mr Potato Head

Chose this crappy team on purpose, don’t worry I’m not sure Charger fans can read.

 

taking on the Great Gazoo.

Somebody came in somewhere and took the nastiness right out of the game. I demand to know who and why!

With your help we can find that person and then let the gators down in the swamp take care of them for the good of all humanity.

I fear this new breed of the game may not nourish the violence I crave.

Dream time comes again! Clear your mind. It’s easy for me to clear my mind you see I have smoked more weed than Jesus. Now picture your favorite NFL moment ever. No, not the Saints winning the Super Bowl (that shit really happened and you can’t have it back) although an excellent choice.

Not Bo Jackson running out of the stadium, but again classic. Nope the best moment ever was when Eli Manning got punched in the face and man do you remember all the blood?

He was just leaning over at the waist gushing, now that’s an EPIC moment.

image via

Was it too violent? Allow me, FUCK NO!!! The only way it could have been better is if it would have been Matt (Matty Ass) Ryan that was laying there leaking the red, red juices.

Hey old schoolers remember Billy Ray Smith breaking his arm making a tackle? He turns and runs to the sidelines blood soaking into his uniform the trainer just grabs him, pulls firmly on the arm, resets the broken bone forcing it back into his skin, Billy screams in agony – or was it victory? then he runs back on to the field, having only missed two plays.

How About Jack Youngblood of the Rams in the freaking Super Bowl playing on a broken leg?

image via

Now that’s a man.

 

Nothing needs to be said here  

 

 

Should I go on? You get my point. Injuries are part of the game, always have been, always will be.

I have an idea. It may sound radical but hear me out.

These guys chose this career path on purpose. They’re warriors. They have been banged around and knocking suckers out since Pop Warner days. Hell, maybe they even like how the game plays! Let’s ask them.

I read an article (it was on the internet so of course it’s true) recently that asked players their thoughts on taking the violence out of the game. Most of the pros know that with that kind of paycheck there comes the chance for evil or the equivalent of being run over by a tank. Almost all of the players (75% in the poll that I saw) accept these facts and continue to play.

I got it! We’ll take the helmets off of the players then fill them full of every drug known to man from boner pills to steroids and watch the stadiums really become a battlefield!

But the thought of Drew Brees leaning over at the waist bleeding profusely? Man that shit gives me the night terrors.

Alright, alright.

Let’s see. Football! One of my top 2 running backs got himself into some off the field hijinks that will cost him and me four games. Thanks.

I wonder if he at least did the humane thing and brought enough of these wonder drugs along for everyone? Didn’t think so, dick.

Before the season is over Drew will turn 40 and yes those are terrifying NFL words. On the good side, the offensive line has shown improvement and if you believe the hype the secondary is even better than last year! (Hey wait, what happened at the end of last year? And how can you not improve on that steaming pile of garbage?) to which I reply “horseshit!” Prove it.

Besides Tampa (and some idiots even say they’ve improved) Atlanta and Carolina are both formidable and we may be the toughest division in the damn league so unless this exorcism thing works out

Took this photo myself, keep New Orleans in your hearts and if you’ve never been there than you’re stupid.

 

we might be looking straight into the eyes of another 8-8 campaign. Awesome.

So where will I be at high Noon (joke writes itself right there) on September the Ninth ? Same place you’ll be. Right there down in front drinking the ever watered down kool-aid that the NFL has become and I’ll probably find myself begging for more.

My soft-headed nitwit son says he’s looking forward to this year. Good Christ man! I yelled “What are you talking about?” He says the Rams have a real chance to play for it all. He still believes!

Do we still care? You mean it’s still important? I don’t see it. Too much has changed and there’s no going back. Thanks Oprah.

What’s next? No more UFC? Too brutal?

I’m now going to make one more prediction: we lose game two at home to Cleveland.

Time for a tale so frightening that if you’re reading this in the dark I strongly suggest that you do yourself a favor and turn on a light. Better yet light a candle and get out that voodoo doll again.

Hey that doll looks like, nah couldn’t be.

 

Some of you may have had already had this nightmare too.

There is a league that’s so sinister that it’s been kept under wraps until just the perfect moment in time and thank the gods that time is now. It is powered by the NFL devils themselves, it is filled with great athletes and former players and the game is called flag football. I know, I know, but that shit is real and they just aired their championship game live on their own network. Mark my words, you read it here first, that is the future!

This game that I used to die for is going away forever,

Oh shit where was I going again? I just looked at that Angela Basset photo again, damn is she gorgeous.

Uh oh the bell is ringing! If I’m not back in my cell before role call I’ll have to spend the night in the dark room. That place scares me, man! I gotta go. When I get scared my brain screams I need some thrash music. I think it’s time that we should all “Rally around the girl with the skull on her ass” hey you think Marie Laveau has a skull tattoo on her butt? It’s possible she was the queen of New Orleans voodoo and I think tattooing is required.

D.J. Taj and I’m off to chase more of my own personal ghosts. Thank you Billy Bob Thornton and Rob Zombie. Some of the Marie Laveau legend is sort of true and some is drug fueled imagination. Sorry if that causes any confusion.

Oh and I don’t officially know how much weed the Lord Savior ingested but I’m sure of one thing…

Laissez les bons temps rouler, baby! and just one more thing that whole title thing “Fete for the Lwa” means Party for a spirit, enjoy

 

yeah right
yeah right
yeah right is a lifelong Vikings fan. Loves to cook but doesn't plate. Loves to drink but hates hangovers. Loves to read. Has no regrets.
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BrettFavresColonoscopyyeah rightWakezillaKing HippoSharkbait Recent comment authors
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BrettFavresColonoscopy

We’ll take the helmets off of the players then fill them full of every drug known to man from boner pills to steroids and watch the stadiums really become a battlefield

There would be a wait list of DFOers

Wakezilla

You know a preview is going to be good when it features Angela Bassett on her knees. Good hustle

King Hippo

I honestly think more moneys for helmet research, better (and lifelong) medical care, and a vastly superior pension system should be the solution. Not trying to fundamentally change a fundamentally violent game.

Wakezilla

I’d get rid of helmets and pads. Those pads are designed to hurt, not protect

Ian Scott McCormick

Oh great. Gregg Williams got into that mescaline again.

ballsofsteelandfury

I love these

King Hippo

A Hunter S. Thompson for our times.

/much like Brick Meathook, though different flavour