“Pride goeth before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall.”
Proverbs 16:18 (KJV)

For someone with such deep-seated self-loathing, I can be surprisingly arrogant. It’s a puzzle.

In my brash youth of, uh, a month ago, I made a sincere but reckless pronouncement regarding the sixth pick of the NFL Draft:

“I will eat a Big Turk (the candy bar- DFO does not condone cannibalism unless stranded at sea, and then only after 18 hours) if one of the Big 3.5 quarterbacks makes it this far.”

Now, in my defense I very badly wanted to see the New York Football Giants get fucked over and get stuck with two more years of Danny Dimes (so called because he provides ten cents of value for every dollar on his contract). And having the potential talent evaporate from between their grasping fingers seemed like both the most likely and funniest way for that to happen.

But I was too bold. As circumstances unfolded in this timeline, the Giants could have drafted JJ McFuckstick, Penix or Hooked on BoNix (h/t MakeItSnow). The fact that they fulfilled the primary aspect of my prophecy (picking Malik “Jim” Nabers) by choosing to die on the Daniel Jones hill is of no consequence. There are no mitigating circumstances.

I would have to eat the Big Turk.

I searched the international grocery stores of my city, and found that only one carried it, presumably due to the expense of the required hazardous-materials permits. I was initially horrified because all they had was the larger “sharing size” Big’r Turk, but a helpful shopkeep directed me to another area with the conventional ones.

Bar in hand, I kissed my children goodnight, wished them better luck in whoever their mother married after my imminent death, and sat down to face my folly.

As an initial matter, the bar:

It looks like the scat of an unusually large and moderately constipated otter.

Then you cut into one of the…nodules…and find this choclate-covered hellmouth.

“Don’t worry, Rev….just take a bite. Look at how lovely…we all float down here….”

Nevertheless, I persevered.

I previously described the Big Turk as “the taste of Betrayal made manifest” based on my recollection of trying it as a five year old. While a lifetime of poor decision-making has provided me with a better vocabulary to describe it, the taste and texture brought me right back to the northern shore of Lake Ontario in 1986. The chocolate is still pretty good. The middle is this chewy, gummy curse whose actual flavor (besides “sugar” and “despair”) is the sort of non-specific “berry” generally associated with off-brand cough medicines. It would be bad alone, but it clashes with the chocolate something awful.

The chewiness is the real Heart of Darkness here- you take a bite, surf the initial wave of revulsion, and then you HAVE TO KEEP GOING. It holds you in the teeth of the storm, battering your jaw muscles and your spirit for what feels like an eon of torment before it gives up the ghost.

And then you look down and have six more nodules to go.

So I am temporarily cleansed of the Sin of Pride, having been brought low by my own hubris. Thanks, Canada.

NFL NEWS

-The photographer who Rashee Rice pummeled outside a Dallas nightclub has asked to drop the charges. In his affidavit, the victim apparently calls the altercation that sent him to the hospital a “misunderstanding”. Presumably he misunderstood that the Chiefs would pay him several thousand dollars to go away. Still, good news for Rice- one charge down, six felonies to go.

-Veteran Chargers linebacker Denzel Perryman says new coach Jim Harbaugh giving off “Will Ferrell vibes“. Well that can’t possibly be a bad thing, right?

-The Big Schedule Release was a big stupid nothing, as expected. We already knew who was playing who home and away. The only wrinkle was finding out that we get the Jest inflicted on us in prime time SIX times in the first 11 weeks. Listen, I get that the NFL is desperate for the Northern New Jersey territory to show signs of life, and that the Giants sure as hell aren’t the horse to back for that. They are used to Aaron Rodgers being a food pellet dispenser when it comes to ratings: hit bar, get eyeballs. But they tried this last year and all it got them was Zach Wilson’s Failurepalooza. Rodgers is old. He’s an asshole. The Jets are year in, year out one of the three least likeable teams and fanbases in the NFL, which is a real accomplishment given the competition. Unless I get to watch Fireman Ed choke to death on his own helmet while Aaron Rodgers spontaneously combusts midfield, this is going to be godawful horseshit television for weeks.

-Breaking News: Chargers release linebacker Denzel Perryman.

NON-NFL NEWS: 

–BWAHAHAHA fuck everyone involved, including Rusty Hardin.

–BWAHAHAHA fuck everyone involved in this one too. Poch is an asshole even among managers, Todd Boehly is setting money on fire, and bandwagon fans from the Chelski era are learning the wages of frontrunning.

-Well done to this guy’s son, basically saying “fair play to the moose.”

WHAT’S ON TONIGHT

Indiana Pacers vs. Baaaahstan Celtics (8 Eastern, ESPN)

Fuck both these teams. Indiana is a stain on the Midwest that Ohio can only aspire to be. The fuck is a Pacer anyway? This is by far the most famous Pacer, Reggie Miller be damned:

Meanwhile, Boston stubbornly and recklessly insists on being Boston. Fuckers.