First of all, if you haven't seen what Kenny is trying to do, go see it. See the shit out of it.
Secondly, see the shit out of "Warrior," also.
Fourthly, if you haven't told someone close to you that
I love them you love them, go do it.
Fifthly, why did you skip the third thing? That makes no sense. You can't do something fourth until you've done the third thing.
Thirdly, vote on the second semi-final matchup of the Najeh Davenport Memorial Tournament, and thereby whittle our field of undesirables to two.
Last week, you ousted Terrell Owens at the impish carny hands of Cortland Finnegan. Today, you must decide between Steelers bully James Harrison, who took down his teammate (by the way, some of the comments on that article are fascinating) Ben Roethlisberger in Round One; and Richie Incognito, who bumbled his way past Adam Jones.
Each of them are one step away from facing Finnegan for the title, and it's up to you to determine who his most worthy opponent is.
James Harrison (LB, Pittsburgh Steelers) -- James Harriosn is, in one sense, better than your average bully in that he actually seems to be the type of guy who backs up his threats. In another sense, he's worse than your average bully in that he actually seems to be the type of guy who backs up his threats. From his showdown with his quarterback:
Harrison: You gon' do these dishes or what, bro?
Me: Yeah, as soon as --
JH: Soon as what?
Me: As soon as Wipeout is over.
JH: Today's your day for dishes, ain't it?
Me: We both know it is, and I'll do them in a second. Besides, there's just a couple of cereal bowls in there.
JH: Nah man, you got these ravioli plates too.
Me: Ravioli? You mean from when you made dinner two weeks ago?
JH: Yeah, they've been under my bed. And now they're in the sink.
Me: Hey James, I got a couple friends coming over to watch the M's game.
JH: ~looking at himself in the mirror while holding hand gun~ No you don't.
Me: Yeah I do. Caleb, Kyle, and Jared, remember them?
JH: I'm sure they remember me, but they still ain't coming over.
Me: Why the hell not?
JH: Cuz I don't remember you asking me.
Me: Uh, James. Why do you have that gun?
JH: ~clicking off the safety~ Why you asking so many questions?
JH: The Mariners suck!
Me: ~mumbling~ I know.
JH: Hey man, you the one who left these shoes in the hallway?
JH: It best not have been you.
JH: James Harrison ain't having no white boy leaving his broke ass kicks around the house. You best hope it wasn't you.
Me: James, I --
JH: Tell me it wasn't you, and everything's gonna be okay. ~stands up menacingly~
Me: James, I'm literally the only other person living here. Those are my only pair of shoes. You know they're mine.
JH: ~steps towards me~
Me: I'll go move them, alright?
JH: ~body-slams me through the coffee table~
JH: Now you done broke my mothafuckin' coffee table.
Me: ~spends rest of the day whimpering and attempting to fix the table~
JH: You better not be bleeding on my carpet.
Richie Incognito (OL, Miami Dolphins) -- Everyone knows that lovably clumsy guy that can't help but fall all over himself. His feebleness is a bit annoying, but he's so darn plucky and self-deprecating that you don't give him too hard of a time when he accidentally kicks the table leg and spills your Pabst (don't judge me). Richie Incognito is not that guy. Richie Incognito stumbles, kicks the table leg on accident, breaks the table leg, spills your Pabst (stop judging me, immediately), swears at you for putting the table in his way even though that table has been there since "that's my name, don't wear it out" was still funny, picks up the table leg and hits you with it before falling onto your girlfriend in a drunken heap, and starts snoring even though it's 5:30 pm.
From his first round matchup with borrow-ones-from-Nelly-to-keep-making-it-rain-on-a-seedy-strip-club-dancer:
There are things in this universe that are bigger, more powerful, and seemingly make less sense than anything we can imagine; living with Richie would be a continuous exercise in remembering that. First of all, have you seen this guy?
There are no doorways constructed to handle that. And before you start with "well, he could just turn sideways," remember that Richie Incognito doesn't turn sideways for nobody. Not for you, not for his extended family, not for that crotchety old man behind the counter at the general store -- not even for the guy he was supposed to block that just swim-moved past him into his quarterback's face. He sure as shit isn't going to turn sideways for your door frame.
Even if you can get past the newly-renovated doorways, you have to realize that Richie's Juggernaut tendencies don't end there. I mean, you can forget about getting your security deposit back, but that's a given when you sign a lease with Richie. The real issue is that you can't have friends over either.
Nobody wants to come over and have a husky, overly-aggressive New Jersian verbally assault them and steal their shoes, cuz you know he would. Within two months you'd be likely to come home to a pile of rubble with a heaving, sobbing, behemoth in the middle of the piles of plaster and rigging (is there rigging in houses? I don't really know anything about carpentry).
So there it is. Vote now, or forever hold your peas.