I’m glad I’m not one of these rubes who think this team is Super Bowl bound.

The usual suspects...

The usual suspects…

I think some of you people deserve these lackluster Broncos. These underachieving perennial paper-tiger Broncos. I think some of you people just lap it up and beg for more, more mediocrity, setting up for more fallen dingleberries in the ass end of the season.

Unfortunately there are very few disciples of P.P. out there. Very few disciples of P.P. in the Denver press, in the blogosphere.

I am reality and my words are iron. All that I’ve said about this team continues to stand on a rock.

This team can’t run when it counts. It can’t gain hard yardage in a tough spot against decent competition.

This defense ain’t ready for prime time. It faces a balanced attack and it gets smashed.

In other words, not a whole lot has changed in Denver.

Not a whole lot has changed. Just like my words of iron haven’t changed.

I destroyed that Horvil Tiki. Destroyed his will and completely dominated his site. That loser is buying his miniscule time these days in a filthy internet cafe. He’s probably reading this right now and crying.

You know why I haven’t updated in a while? Because I don’t feel like being a broken record. What I’ve said all along stands: The Peyton Manning led Broncos are heading for a heart breaking AFC Championship loss in year three of the Manning project.

Yeah that’s right, that’s next year.

In this preseason I was privately asked whether the Broncos could make a run this year. I said their only very slim ass-crack of a chance is if maybe, just maybe if that Montae Ball is an absolute superstar. He ain’t. Not this year anyways.

You see them clips of Manning practically apologizing for not saying the word “Colts” as of late? Eh? You people like that? You like being led by a Colt?

I don’t.

Someone that will retire a Colt? Bunch of spineless sea cucumbers being led around by a Colt. Bunch of margarita sipping, oyster guzzling, inebriated sea cucumbers rah-rahhing a Colt.

Peyton Manning Forehead

Something ain’t quite right in Denver…

I couldn’t be more detached to this team at present.

Why did I tune in last night?

Because I figured they’d lose this game. And they did. I had a feeling it would be an under-the-radar team with some balance like the Colts who knock the Broncos out of the playoffs early this year. Maybe even the Chiefs, they can run and play defense.

Oh rubes, goobers and pencil neck Broncos cheering buffoons… lend me your ears: You gotta run and play defense in the playoffs to go anywhere.

Especially when it’s going to be sub zero temperatures and you’re gonna try and rely on thirty seven year old fused bones.

Some of you people better hope the Broncos don’t get to the Superbowl. Christ, it’ll be minus ten degrees in the Meadowlands. You better be able to run and play defense.

The Broncos sure as hell can’t do neither. Not in a hard spot.

And oh by the way, how many times did the Colts win a Lombardi trophy with pumpkinhead? They rode ol’ pumpkinhead’s arm for fourteen seasons and only won the big show once.


Not to mention Manning’s inexcusable penchant for flaming out in the playoffs time and time again.

You see what happens when ol’ pumpkinhead Manning finally gets pressured eh? How about the inability to do jack squat with his legs once a team puts a good rush on. Just gotta throw it away.

Sorry fellas. It ain’t gonna work. We are paying out the ass to be led by some Colt and all the while our defense and running game suffers.

You can’t buy a Super Bowl after all Bucky-boy.


John Elway Tebow

“I want pocket passer…. eh… um…. duhhhh” “Win with Kyle ehh duhhh”