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    This entry contains several references to mimes. I have no earthly idea how that happened.

 
If I had Edith Piaf records in the house, I'd be playing them at full volume. I might even dress up the cat in drag and paint his face like a sad clown. That's how druggy the last couple of weeks have felt.

I don't even feel like taking on the new Raiders blog guy. He seems okay. He's a saint. He must be religious.

Anyway. Here's what we know on Wednesday night.

  • Darrell Jackson, by all accounts the Seahawks' most productive receiver of the year, suffered an injury sometime on Sunday. It was originally reported that it was a knee injury. This sent Seattle hurling into a void, where white was black, boils plagued the earth, and mimes were acceptable forms of entertainment.

    Then it was clarified it was only a foot injury, and that Jackson was in fact listed as probable against Oakland Monday night. Peace in the village was restored, and Phildopip and I went downtown to rough up those stupid silent wanna-be clowns. And their stupid berets.

  • Earlier tonight, Sando pointed out an interesting statistic: It has been 360 days since a Seahawk cornerback had an interception. November 6, 2005, Kelly Herndon and Marcus Trufant picked off the Cardinals. Since then, nada.

    Interceptions aren't the only measure of a good cornerback, of course. Beating up mimes helps too.

  • By the way, Floyd Womack appears to have recuperated from his injury, and could possibly start at left guard Monday night against the Raiders. According to Sando: "This means the Chris Spencer/Rob Sims experiment is probably on hold for now."

    Wasn't it barely a month ago we were saying the job was Spencer's to lose?

    Dance for me, you stupid mime.

  • From our colleagues at the Most Valuable Network's 12th Man Blog -- Seahawks Defense: You are ON NOTICE!

    I am thrilled to inform you that you can generate your own Colbert Report on-notice boards. I will be busy for hours tomorrow.

More on all of this as the mimes slowly take over and infect our children with their white pancake lies.

(Note: I do not actually have a cat.)