perry_pones

So I'm sitting here, enjoying a nice adult beverage in a hotel Wick Allison can only dream about farting in, let alone staying in, on account of me being so rich. I asked for some Doogie Howser DVDs, and they brought me Neil Patrick Harris to reinact any Doogie episode I want, that's how swank joint is.

And then I'm looking on the internets. Ok, I won't lie - my assistant's assistant was reading the internet for me, because I pay people do to that. I'm that rich. I can pay people to read stuff for me. Get's a little tricky in the mens room at Texas Stadium, when there might be some good grafitti going on, but we're blowin up that shithole anyway.

But anyway, the ass ass finds this post on D Magazine's blog, Bumfucker or something. She told me, but I don't pay attention unless there's money involved. Anyway, she shows me this picture of someone that might be me surrounded by several hotties.

Yes, I can still get the tail when I wanna, but I generally don't want the wife to know about it. I can usually explain away the scent of Designer Impressions Chanel No. 5 and body glitter on my pants by tellin' her that T.O. hugged me. But damn it, a picture is a little harder. And now she's givin' me the silent treatment. WTF (like that? The assistant taught me it. It means What The Fuck) am I supposed to tell her now.

So basically I've told her that they're pretty muggers, and they beat me shitless and took my wallet. If ya'll could have my back on this, I'd 'preciate it.

God Bless,

Me

Well, Sports Illustrated has forced my hand. Here's the official release that was gonna go out in a couple of days:


Dallas Cowboys Admit Participation in NFL Thug Rewards Program

(Jan. 20, 2009) DALLAS - The Dallas Cowboys, known for their willingness to hire the criminally dubious, announce today that they are, in fact, participants in the previously secret NFL Thug Rewards Program.

The program, which began in 1988, was designed by the NFL to secretly reward teams who hired "problem" players. In the Cowboys' case, the NFL promised a Super Bowl in any other place than the craphole known as Texas Stadium, five dancing girls, and plenty of bail money.

"I was willing to help keep the program secret until I found out that the Cowboys were the only participants," General Manager Jerry Jones said. "After figuring out that we had been duped, I decided the best recourse for the team was to openly admit our participation, which will not end any time soon."

Jones also said that in addition to a possible hire of current Baltimore Ravens linebacker Ray Lewis, "we also have dibs on little Mikey Vick when he gets himself sprung."

@#$%& *&%$# !   I mean, $#!&.

I'll write more later, after I find me a bloody mary or five.

Dear Perry:
What will you do if Jason Garrett takes another offer? Can Wade Phillips do it on his own?
- Wade Phillips


Dear Wade:
Stop asking me that. You're gonna hafta coach by yourself if Jay-dog leaves. Now, go burn those shorts, find some man britches, and git to work.

 - Perry

Dear Perry:
My co-workers are really mean to me, and I know they're talking about me behind my back. My quarterback senior vice president of marketing is always  hanging out with the wide re junior vice president of human resources, and they never invite me to lunch. It's making me sad, and not allowing me to work to my full potential. What should I do?
- 25 Million Reasons to Live

Dear 25 Million:
I suggest you work on depth, as in, depth perception. The better you are at reading situations, the better you'll be at figuring out where you're supposed to be, and you won't drop the ball. Work isn't always about who you're a buddy with at the office, but whether or not you can play catch and run ahead of the pack.

Also, it helps to not fill up on popcorn.

- Perry

Dear Perry:
Which is worse - shooting yourself in a night club while wearing sweatpants, or politely asking someone else to shoot someone outside a nightclub?
- Mario Cart

Dear Mario Cart:
Yes.

 - Perry

I'm no Rhodes scholar or nuthin, but I can't understand a damn word you're saying. So far, I'm thinkin you want Jason Garrett to tell riddles to Tony Romo, but that is just a guess. Last time I guessed was when I called Stephen and said, "Who should be our next coach?" I coulda swore he said "Dave Campo," but turns out he was sayin, "Hell if I know."

For the rest of you, I'm readin my emails now. I'll answer some reader mail in a sec.

Some doofus sportswriter who may or may not have a job next year is gonna tell me who to fire? I gotta choose between TO and Jason?

I think I have well established (right, Laura Miller?) that I don't gotta do nothin. Hell, I can decide tomorrow to suit up and take the field, and not much anybody 'cept maybe my orthopedist or Tank Johnson could convince me otherwise.

I'm rich, Mr. Frenchy Sounding Name. RICH. It is a fact that rich people can pretty much do whatever they want. It's a perk of being rich, like valet parkers that call you sir and gift baskets from the mayor of Arlington.

I understand how you might not get this. You are not rich. You're also a journalist, so you never will be rich. Therefore, me listening to you about staffing decisions is like asking Huggy Bear for morality advice.

I'm filin' you under "G" for "Gotta Be Effin' Kidding Me."

OMG ya'll. Doogie's on SNL. Forgit the super bowl.....doogie's playin' doogie. I think I am smiling for joy, but I'll have to ask my wife. I can't feel my face - new botox today.

So I was sitting with the grandkids today, and they started telling me about this new way of writing called LOLspeak. They said it's easy 'cause you don't have to remember how stuff is spelled or nothin. So I got a lesson in it, and thought I'd try to write the rest of this like that.

Sew i bin finkin abowt da dwaft. i no i need a qtrback cuz Romo is az yewsless az 9 volt battreez n a secks toy store. i wud like hem 2 b moor bettah, but he chokz awl da time. But i awlsew need a defenz wif blz. TO iz awl OMFGWTFBBQ, an may king hem nrml may keel me. "I wuv me sum me?" Srsly? Cuz i wud sofa king wuv him 2 catch da stoopid bl moor off10, AN KNOT DRP IT!

An dew knot git me started on Waid Filips. tawking 2 hem iz like tawking 2 dat mewcus bawl on da mucinex comershuls, awnly less wivewy. Srsly, wut a mouf-breefer.

Like las mundae win i tol him we needed 2 tawk abawt da nex seezon. He gohz: "O noes! awlreddy? we don gotta tawk 'bawt dat til may. I wuz gonna go fissun an' lissen 2 sum berry manalo."

Sew den i wint 2 tawk 2 jasun gayrat. He jes smiled @ me an sed he wud tell da teem 2 wrk moor harder. I saw a brawncos hat n hiz bak pokit. Azzhowl. I pade hem munny 2 make da teem moor bettah, an' he makes dem suk hrdr. i wan mai munny bak! I shud take eet awt uf hiz azz, wif a bawlpeen hamr.

Sew i dunno wut wheel hapn nex seesun. I wheel tale u now dat da Cowboyz wheel prolly suk agin. My bad. Sry.

I gotta goe dew a truck comershul now. Bai!
 

Is that my players would just keep their mouths shut. Blogs are for rich white men and Doogie Howser. That's it.

So see, it's like this. We gotta move. I got this giant new place, and we're all packin' up and movin' out before they blow the damn thing up with us in it.

It could happen. People are pissed off at us. Last week some sweet old lady cornered me at the Tom Thumb and beat me with a frozen turkey. I still got the bruises in my don't shine region, if you get my drift. Today, some kid on a bike gave me the finger. Then he waved his hand. I waved back. He motioned for me to roll down my window. Then he said, "I wasn't waving, you dessicated stump of a man, I decided you suck so bad I wanted to give you the whole hand, not just the finger."

Those Highland Park kids are so smart.

And now I got to be honest. This big ol' stadium - I didn't mean for it to get outta hand. It's like when you build a deck. First you think you just want one the gas grill sits on. Then you add enough room for the old lady to sunbathe. Then suddenly it's a gazebo, a deck, and a bigass pool. You see what I mean?

Now I gotta fill it. I'm thinkin' ping pong tournaments, cause I love me some Forrest Gump. Maybe some dancin' competition, like Breakin 2: Electric Boogaloo. And monster trucks. Who don't like a car that crushes other cars, damn it? I tell ya, anyone who don't just doesn't have anything between is schlong and his taint, if you get what I mean.

These people that work for me are drivin' me crazy. I swear. If it ain't a temper tantrum in the locker room it's a slap tickle in some terlit. And then I got this quarterback that's done gone retard on me. I swear to God I'm gonna end up wipin' dribbles off his face after the next team lunch.

And for the love of God, my plastic surgeon won't call me back. I got one hell of a crease in the middle of my forehead that I blame goddamned Wade Phillips for, and I just can't have that.

So yeah, I gotta lot on my mind. I was gonna watch some old Doogie Howser clips, and I googled doogie journal, and ended up here. Not bad. I can pretend I'm Doogie now.


later!