Mail Time

At practice today I told Homo I would kick his ass at any event of the Quarterback Challenge on NFL Quarterback Club '96. Even the obstacle course and he could be Randall Cunningham. He was like "Drew, Come on, man. I'm trying to concentrate here." Goddammit this guy is such a pussy. How is he the starter!?

Anyway, I get a lot of letters from fans, so I spent the majority of the afternoon responding to each one. Then I realized a mailbag feature would be a great thing for this blog. Here are some exceptionally good questions I received, and my responses. (By the way, If you guys want to send me mail, just address it to Drew Bledsoe, USA, and it'll get to me. That's the type of respect I command from the US Postal Service -- no stamps needed.)

Paul from Ft. Worth, TX writes:
Hey, Drew. Big fan. Everybody here is shocked you are not starting. Romo is gonna crash and burn against Carolina and you'll be back in no time. My prediction: 0tds, 6 interceptions. Ft. Worth loves you, man!

My Response: Hey, Paul. I guess you wrote that before the Carolina game. Anyway, Where in Ft. Worth do you live? Maybe I can stop by. Grill up some Burgers. Think Romo wants to hang out with his fans? What do you like on your Burgers? Maybe we can hit up the Best Buy? I need a new VCR. Write me back. Like, today.

Maureen from Detroit, MI writes:
Drew. Did you play any sports other than Football? Did Tony Romo? Thus, who is the better athlete?

My Response: Great question Maureen. I was, in fact, a basketball All-American in High School. Homo, I believe said his second favorite sport is "the yo-yo." So I'm the better athlete.

Grayson from West Highlands, WVA writes:
Drew, we love you! What is your typical day like? How does *probably* a future hall-of-famer spend his waking hours?

My Response: Haha. *probably?* What's that about Grayson? You say you guys love me but not enough to know that I have 3,839 completions. 251 career TD's? Anyway, my typical day is waking up, making Homo look like a high functional autistic adult at practice, then in the afternoon just relax. This weekend I'm probably going to grill up some Burgers with some new pals. Go to Best Buy to buy some high end electronics. That kinda stuff. Thanks for writing Grayson, next time get your facts straight though.

Vance from Coronado, CA writes:
Drew. What's up with Homo?

My Response: I know, right? You like Burgers?

Anyway, time to take the kids trick or treating. And I think we have a house to egg...

Until tomorrow. Happy Halloween!

Happy Homoween

My wife says this blog has become an "unhealthy obsession" for me, and that "I can't write about anything without putting him down."

Firstly, that's not true. I write about many things without relating them to Tony Romo.

Secondly, did you notice I have a wife, and Tony Homo has nobody? He's alone in life.

Anyway, no practice on Tuesday's so I spent the whole day relaxing with my wife/soulmate and the kids, then I keyed Homo's car. Oh, and this afternoon I crunched the numbers, and I figured out that if I were QB last week, we woulda won 43-3. Not bad for a SECOND STRINGER.

I fully expect to be named the starter this week, especially after listening to Coach Parcells' press conference today. Coach had some pretty choice words for Homo. (For those who don't know Bill Parcells as well as I do, I've provided you with translations to what he really meant.)

What he said:"I thought there were some good things there. He did buy himself some time from time to time and made some pretty good throws, couple of clutch throws that I thought were good."

What he meant: Homo showed some signs of competancy amidst a complete cluster-fuck of horrible decisions. Like a retard flinging his own poop towards a dart board, inevitably some feces will land on bullseye. This can be chalked up to absolute randomness and great receivers.

What he said: "His game management could use a little work but for the first time out in that kind of situation, I'd say I was generally satisfied with that."

What he meant: Homo blows.

What he said: "That ability is innate in the player. He has it."

What he meant: LOL to whoever keyed Homo's car in the shape of a stick figure peeing onto the door handle.

Coach loves a good prank. I'm still 40% certain this is an elaborate late April Fools' joke to convince Homo that he's better at quarterback than me.

All right, its getting late, I have to put the kids to sleep. For Halloween, Stuart is going to be his daddy, John and Henry are going as Michael Irvin and a Hooker, and my sweet daughter Healey Elizabeth wanted to dress up as something really scary... So I suggested Homo's QB rating our last four games! (84.9!) She didn't get that, because she's only four.

ps - Homo has no children. He's not even an uncle. He's not even friends with somebody who has kids and then allows those kids to call him "Uncle Tony." I asked. He said "No." Then he said "Hey, can you actually get outta the way bro, you're sorta in the pocket, I'm trying to practice a little more before we break for the day." In conclusion, I'm not your "Bro," asshole.

Beginners Luck

First the facts:

We scored three RUSHING touchdowns, one passing touchdown, 3 PAT's and one two point conversion. We won by 21. So the final score without ANY quarterback would have been 27-14. Still seems like a victory to me. Weird.

Now the opinion: (hey, this is still a blog, not a science journal.)

Homo looked lost out there. 24-36, 270 yards, a touchdown and an interception never looked so bad. It's tough to explain because you guys aren't future hall of fame quarterbacks, but the footwork, the timing, the mechanics, were all completely intolerable, and I'm sure that's what Tuna is gonna tell him on Tuesday.


Some behind-the-scenes stuff:

You shoulda heard the guys just whalin' on Homo. Some choice lines.

Julius Jones: Hey, good work out there man. Lookin good! (Said obviously sarcastically.)

MBIII: Nice work Romo. (Though I swear he said Homo. Looks like somebody's been reading the ole' blog!)

Coach: Come on, we're playing well out there, but we need everybody to step up if we want a victory! (You mean you need everybody PLAYING to step up, right coach!? Hey take it easy on the guy, he's only 26!)

Fantasy Tip

To those Homo owners, I think it's time to hit the waiver wire. With Cowboy fans across the world calling for Homo's head I'll give you one guess who's probably starting next week. (And it ain't Quincy Carter!)

I suggest dropping him for a back up kicker (they often pull their hammies) or perhaps even a solid back up tight end (is Jake Klopfenstein available?) And do it before Tuesday, I want him to be owned in less then 10% of leagues so that I can point that out to Tuna on Tuesday. Okay? Promise to drop him? By reading this you are promising to drop him. Okay good, stop reading and go drop him. Seriously.





Have you dropped him yet?

Is it February Yet?

Short practice today. Coach said if anybody didn't wanna be a Cowboy on Sunday, then they should just go home. I instantly sprinted to the parking lot.

I hear a lot of people comparing my present situation to the one in 2002, even so far as to compare Homo to Tom Brady. I know Tom Brady. I served with Tom Brady, I knew Tom Brady, Tom Brady was a friend of mine. Homo is no Tom Brady.

Let's compare:

Colleges:
Tom Brady: I dont know if you've heard of it. It's a little school called UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN!
Homo: I actually don't know if you've heard of it. Some lame ass Junior college or some shit.

Career:
Tom Brady: Three Superbowls. (Two if you count the one I spoonfed him.)
Homo: No superbowls. Not even one!

Romantically Linked to:
Tom Brady: Bridget Moynahan
Homo: Jeff Garcia.

Last Name Rhymes With:
Brady: Lady.
Homo: Homo.

I rest my case.

Anyway, I'm off to play Madden, sub in Homo, and keep running QB sneaks until he gets injured. When I see the look on that virtual Homo's face... Goddamn. I have to go.

PS - I took a dump under his locker.

Jerry Jones Wants Me to Start

Woke Up. Practiced. Watched Homo suck it up. Spoke to the media. Came home. Whatever.

Oh, funny story: I jacked Mr. Starting Quarterback's iPod today. Every day after practice the starters stick around to talk to coach. For the first time this season, that didn't include me, so I took the opportunity to rummage through pretty boy's locker. Didn't find much, other than a new iPod Mini. So I took it and threw it in the trash. You shoulda seen the looks on all the guys' faces. I was like, their hero.

Marion Barber was all, "Drew, come on man, that ain't right." But deep down inside I know/hope he was cracking up.

Quincy Butler, was like, "Drew, come on. I'll drive you home, you've had a long week." I found that offensive and told him to mind his own fucking business. Then he took the iPod outta the trash. Whatever, his iPod is still gonna smell like garbage.

...though come to think of it, I may have thrown it into the fresh towels bin. Either way he was Punk'd with a capital missing E.

All right, I'm gonna go edit my Wikipedia page. Did you know that I was four units shy of earning a PhD in French? Suckers...

PS - Tony Romo is 3 inches shorter than me, and when I asked 10 girls at a bar after practice today who was better looking, only two of them said him. (Seven said me, and one politely ask that I let go of her.)

Here We Go Again...

Well, by now you guys probably already know. Coach named his starter for Sunday at Carolina, and it's... Not me.

Am I surprised? Yes. Am I dissappointed? Yes. Do I wish Romo gets injured or anything? Absolutely.

Nothing too severe, just a torn MCL or ACL (but not both!). I'll even take a high ankle sprain. Torn rotator cuff... Severe concussion... I'm not being picky here. Strained calf, back spasms, I'll fucking take turf toe, I don't give a shit. What about that burst spleen thing? Is that common? You can't play without a spleen... That much I know...

Anyway. As reported, I am staying on as back up. I'm looking forward to wearing a headset on the sidelines, and flipping through those printed glossy black and white pages, showing them to Homo after each pick he throws.

"See that?" I'll say, "That's a defender. And that is the ball you threw into his hands. Generally you'll want to throw it to one of our players. But what do I know? 3,839 completions. 251 career TD's. They were all flukes." I'm sarcastic. That's something that doesn't come through in interviews. Now you guys know.

Anyway, I don't wanna dwell on football, this is my personal blog after all. So what else... what else... Oh yeah. I got a haircut today. That was cool. That's about it. Cool. Post again tomorrow after practice.

One other thing, according to ESPN Sportsnation polls, 47% of America thinks I should be the starter. I asked Coach if 147 million people can be wrong. He told me that figure only encapsulates the amount of people that voted, and not everybody in America. Then he asked me who the other 53% voted for. I told him "I dunno, Drew Hensen or some shit, I wasn't really paying attention."

Dick.

It Begins.

I just can't shake the image of that play out of my minds eye.

I woke up this morning in the same bed I woke up yesterday morning. Same physical body, but mentally I am a completely different person. I am a back up. This feeling is oddly familiar.

6 AM, I need to sleep more. I Close my eyes. I take the snap. I see Terry (I call him Terry because we're teammates) make a quick out, running away from me. I can't stand it. I open my eyes. I can't sleep. I toss and turn. If only I can move this well in the pocket. Ha ha. I'm so self deprecating -- but in a good way. I need more rest. I close my eyes.

Terry opens his hands, I release the ball. Tight spiral. Touchdown. We're going into this half with a lead. But then out of nowhere... Sam Fucking Madison appears. I open my eyes. I wonder if Buffalo needs a QB. Losman? More like Lost-Man. Haha. Nice.

6:15 AM. I still can't sleep. You know, I told Jerry before the game. "Should we really paint the endzone the same shade of blue as the Giants uniforms? It can't seem like a good idea to camoflauge their defenders..." He told me not to worry about it. I wonder what that means...I close my eyes.

Sam Madison picks off my, otherwise flawless, pass, tip toes his way outta bounds. One foot in. Two feet in. Shit. Three feet in. Four. Okay stop showing off, dickface, I get it. Five Feet in. I wanna puke.

I don't remember much after that. I know there was a second half. I spent the majority of it sorta glazing off into outer space, mulling over the best way to write my first blog entry. I was a creative writing minor at Washington State, remember.

So this is it. My first of many blog entries. I think it'll keep me entertained and alive... I know I've got pretty much nothing else to live for. I hope you stick around.

Oh, and as for the name, TonyRomo.com was taken, so I just chose this one. Also, that faggot stole my starting job.

Welcome to TonyHomo.com

Hi. I'm Drew Bledsoe. This is my Blog.