Mixed Feelings

Hey gang.

The big story surrounding practice today was Michael Irvin's allegation that Tony Romo has some African-American lineage as evidenced by his mobility on the field.

"maybe his great, great, great, great Grandma ran over in the hood or something went down..."

Firstly, I just spoke to my publicist, and she and I agree that Michael Irvin's comments were out of line and racist. Period.

Secondly, I just wanted to clear some things up with you, my fans: My grandparents, their grandparents, or any ancestor in my family tree, never, ever, ever, ever, raped a slave. Guaranteed.

At most -- and we're talking absolute most, but probably never happened -- my great uncle once molested an endentured servant.

Kay. Just wanted to clear the air and pre-emptively squash any rumors that may be flying around about me. You know, when you complete 3,839 passes in your career, people talk.

If anybody out there works for a major television network, or newspaper, or local magazine, and wants to start a rumor about me... you better not! I'll be pissed! Go ahead and try it -- just see how angry I get!

Here, in fact, I'll give you some ideas just to get things rolling:

- I used to wet my bed until senior year of high school (Not true!)

- I got a 670 on my SAT's (Close, but no cigar!)

- One time I shoved my wife into the side of a gas pump for embarassing me in front of the kids. Dumb bitch thinks she knows math better than me??? (Complete fabrication! I love my wife!)

And if any of these wild alligations make it to the 3pm or 8pm Sportscenter: So be it!

Gosh I'm getting so angry just thinking about all this bad publicity. I better go relax and play some Madden '07 on the new PS3. My '96 Patriots team vs. Homo's Cowboys. It's gonna be a bloodbath. And not just because I play as Homo and run backwards for safeties on every play, but because teams rely on veteran leadership and experience to win the big game and Homo has none. (Though the -742 rushing yards doesn't help!)

Later skaters.

This isn't a Game.

Hey everybody.

Sorry about the lack of posts recently, I guess I kinda needed to take a mental vacation from football, as well as from blogging. After last Thursday's debacle I decided to take some time to clear my head and get away from the game temporarily.

Plus, I promised my kid a PS3. I'm not sure if you guys know this, but promising your kid a PS3 before Christmas is pretty equivalent to promising your kid a unicorn at a reality festival.

These babies are hard to secure... and that's coming from me: A future hall of fame quarterback. I can't imagine how normal quarterbacks go about obtaining one of these. (Charlie Frye? Are you reading this?)

Here's just a summary of what I've had to go through:

Friday morning I got up extra early -- 2AM, and headed down to Best Buy assuming they'd have plenty of Playstations in stock. I mean, it's the most popular toy in America, why wouldn't they have it available, right? Would you believe the Best Buy wasn't even open!?

"Whatever," I thought. "I'm Drew F'ing Bledsoe. Best Buy is open when I say it's open!" And then for some stupid reason I said "8AM." Pretty counter-intuitive, but I had nothing to do for the next six hours.

Next thing I know I'm being woken up by a pre-pubescent store manager.

"No autographs!" I yell, as he lets me into the store. He offered me a dollar and a warm place to nap until the the weather got warm. I told him that wasn't necessary, I just wanted a Playstation 3, and I'd be on my way. He start cracking up and tried to explain between laughs that the Playstation 3 sold out in 11 minutes over ten days ago. I asked him when they'd be getting more and he told me to sign up for a three month waiting list.

Great. Now how are my children going to respect me?

I head over to about twelve more electronics stores and receive the same treatment. "We're sold out." "No Playstations until at least '07." "No I dont have any idea who I'm talking to." "I'm calling security." Same shit different store.

At about 4pm I just give up and decide to head into practice. I'm about six hours late but nobody cares anymore.

For some reason, when I get there, Homo was wearing a Santa's hat giving out presents to these inner city kids. Right as I'm about to yell something witty like "Nice try, retard. Christmas isn't for another four weeks. I hope you're not giving away calendars!" I notice that the toys he was giving away weren't toys at all. They were Playstation 3's!

I strapped on a hat and told Homo I would take it from here. I asked the remaining children what they really wanted for Christmas. Of course, they all said Playstation 3's so I had to act fast.

"Playstations rot your teeth. Here, take these candy apples instead," I said, throwing change at them.

They didn't buy it, but they were temporarily confused enough for me to nab the remaining PS3's and head home.

If you could only see the look on my boys' faces when they saw what their daddy did for them... It was then i realized that some things are more important than silly starting jobs, or inner city orphans. That's what the holidays and being a family is all about.

Suddenly I understood. Things are going to be all right.

PS - People have asked me to comment on Coach's decision to cut Mike Vanderjagt. Listen, in this league, if you don't produce, you dont play. Some people still don't understand that football is a business. If you can't help the team win football games you might as well not even be here. That's why l can't figure out for the life of me why Homo is still starting...

Turkey Burger

Happy Thanksgiving?

Ha. No such thing.

Supply and The Man

So. Short week this week because of our Thursday game against the Bucs. That means we had Monday practice, which is always horrible. Today, too. I just... I can't.

I haven't eaten anything in days, save for a couple Burgers last night and a few more this morning. My wife tried to cheer me up last night by playing my two favorite movies: "An edited compilation of my four playoff victories including the time I rescued the Pats after Brady went down" and "Evita." Nothing. I'm just... numb, ya know?

I get emails all the time asking me why there is only one Jersey of mine available on the Official Online Cowboys Pro Shop, and why that Jersey is the only one on sale ($69.99 vs. $99.99).

I took an economics course in college (B+) so I can explain this phenomenon pretty easily.

It is beneficial for the store to... put the best jersey's on sale at a lower price. Why? Because when an item is insanely popular, it makes sense to lower the price, so more people can buy it. Does that make sense? Like... it's hard to explain.

For example, my Jersey costs $69.99, Homo's jersey costs $99.99, that means, they are going to sell more of mine because I'm a better player. Does that make sense? It's hard to explain.

Umm... Okay. If there were two Burgers and one cost $11 and one cost $1.99 you assume the cheaper one is more delicious and good and thus you'll want to buy it. Except, that's not a good example because the $11 burger is probably better.

Okay. Oh. However! You wouldn't wanna buy that Burger, right? because its $11. So the same goes for jerseys I think. It's hard to explain. Hold on let me get my notes.

Kay. All right. The reason my Jersey costs $69.99 is because if they lower the cost, the quantity sold, will rise, right? Get that? That's pretty easy. And the reason they want to sell more of my jersey, is because, they are worth more. To them. Get it? It's hard to explain.

Like... If you have two lines and one is supply and the other is demand, the better things are usually cheaper. I guess I can't explain it better than that. You'll have to take my word for it.

And besides, that's not the only Jersey of mine on sale. You can get a customized authentic jersey for $89.99, and you can just order one that says Bledsoe! Sure, the Jersey # is 1, but you can easily add another 1 to that and then technically my Jersey costs $89.99 which is pretty much how much all the other ones cost. So I don't know what y'all are complaining about.

Does that make sense?

It's hard to explain.

I'm Okay.

Hey guys.

Um, I'm not really sure what to say.

Thanks to everybody who's been sending me cards and calling me. These are tough times for myself and my family and we appreciate any good will we receive. I thank everybody who has put us in their thoughts and prayers today. I love you all. I really mean that.

Yesterday was devastating, but I know, that with your strength, and your courage, I will learn to carry on. I know that I will learn to depend on you, as you guys have depended on me for so many years. (3,839 completions. 251 career TDs.)

Last night, as I lay in my attic, distraught, alone, depressed, and bewildered, I found a sheet of paper. It was of a poem I wrote the day I signed with the Dallas Cowboys. I couldn't believe how much it spoke to me, and how well written it was. Sometimes I forget how good I am at other stuff, because I'm so good at football. (4,555 passing yards -- single season. That's about 3 miles.)

Obviously, I don't feel like blogging today, but I felt I had to say something. So as a token of my esteem and deep undying gratitude to you, my readers, I present to you my poem:

The Signal: By Drew Bledsoe:

Shock.
I got a new life...
You would hardly recognize me,
Im so glad.
How can a person like me care for you?
Why do I bother?
When you're not the one for me?
Is enough enough?

I saw the signal, and it opened up my eyes I saw the signal.
Life is demanding without understanding.
I saw the signal and it opened up my eyes I saw the signal
No ones gonna drag you up
To get into the light where you belong
But where do I belong?

Under the pale moon,
For so many years Ive wondered
Who you are.
How can a person like you bring me joy?
Under the pale moon
Where I see a lot of stars...
Is enough enough?

I saw the signal and it opened up my eyes I saw the signal
Life is demanding without understanding.
I saw the signal and it opened up my eyes I saw the signal.
No ones gonna drag you up
To get into the light where you belong
But where do I belong?


Thank you.

There's No Place Like Homo.

Hey guys, I apologize in advance for the shortness of this post. I just got a new cell phone tonite and I just spent the last two hours on hold with technical support because I wanted to make my ringtone the sound of Homo throwing an interception.

They told me I couldn't do it, so I demanded the next best thing. They suggested "The Entertainer" which is catchy, but not even close to what I was going for. I would return the phone but it's got "Snake II" on it, which means its the kind where you can go through walls, and I'm not about to let that go.

Anyway, I'm beat. Burger then bed. Gnite everybody.

Bring Your Hall of Famer to Class Day.

Today was "Occupation Day" at my son's elementary school and I had the honor of going to little Stuart's third grade class, along with five other proud fathers, to talk to the class about what we do. I don't want to brag, but I'm pretty sure the standing ovation we got upon enterring was not for that real estate agent I walked in with, or that fireman, or the astronaut.

We started with a fun little jeopardy style trivia game, in which each father/son pairing was pinned up against the other. Stuart and I didn't get any questions correctly, though you could hardly blame us, because those questions were damn near impossible. One of them asked "What is the currency used in Japan?" I guessed incorrectly and the entire class laughed at me. Like they knew what it was! (Though in retrospect it was pretty dumb of me to guess Canadian Dollar. It's just the only non-american currency I know!)

Afterwards there was a Q and A session with all the kids -- which I found out meant Question and Answer. These kids asked some pretty intelligent questions but some of them, as cute as they were, didn't understand the game of football at all.

I got one question from a sweet little eight year old named Todd: "Do you think that Parcells made the right decision by changing quarterbacks, in that, he knew what kind of quarterback you were. You were good, but you weren't great. Do you think Parcells was justified in switching to an unproven Romo, because at least there was potential there. Potential to get back to the Superbowl which is always the #1 goal. And do you think after Romo's auspicious 2-1 start, that decision has since been justified?"

God bless that little idiots heart.

I explained to him that Homo was not a good quarterback and that it's fine to take risks, but at least take risks with me in the ball game. For example, keep me in there and tell me to launch bombs to T.O. all game long. I may only connect 5 out of 50 times but hey, that's 35 points. Now that's a risk that seems worth taking. Actually -- I was kinda kidding at the time, but this is starting to make sense. I'm gonna write that down and pitch it to coach. I wonder if that's what the "West Coast Offense" is? I always hear about it, but I'm never really sure what it means...

Anyway, the cutest question of the night came when some little girl asked how I got to be so big. I told her I could understand where she was coming from, her dad probably wasn't 6'5" 250 pounds, 2% body fat. She told me she didn't know how big her daddy was, and she never will... That damn near floored me I was so sad. So I let her touch my bicep while I flexed. That cheered me up.

That little orphan girl brought up a good point though, that I have yet to address in this blog: My nutrition. People look at my solid frame and probably assume it came naturally, and that's not the case. Without the workouts and training I've done since 7th grade I would probably be 5'6" 135 pounds.

Here is what I go through every day to maintain my physique:

6:00 AM: Wake up, already chewing on a Burger patty. I'm not quite sure how it got there, and frankly, I don't want to know.

6:00 - 6:30AM: Breakfast: Usually an egg burger with cheese. Or some sort of regular Burger but instead of the bun its just eggs or just Burgers, then a glass of orange juice, a glass of milk, and a glass of Burgers.

6:30 to 9:30 AM: Naptime. Got to re-energize. Got to recharge the batteries. My body is a temple, and that temple is closed while the Wife dresses, feeds, packs lunches, and drives the kids to school.

9:30 AM to 10 AM: Drive to practice while doing crunches.

10:AM to 5 PM: Practice. Note: During practice I will not eat anything whatsoever, but drink over 24 liters of Xtremo Tropico Gatorade.

5PM - 9PM: Burger. Weights. Burger. Run. (alternate for four hours, or until you begin sweating grease.)

9PM-10PM: Dinner. Usually just a salad or something. Also, I'm obviously kidding, it will be a Burger.

10PM - 11PM Fire up the ole blogging machine, type away Pulitzer Prize worthy literary genius while my feet pantomime five and seven step drops.

11PM until sleep time: Watch game footage. Sometimes I'll watch our upcoming opponent but mostly it will be 1992 Apple Cup in which I lead the Washington State Cougers to a dominant 29 point third quarter to defeat the defending national champion Washington Huskies. I was on fire that game. And Homo was... twelve years old. So. I guess it makes sense that he's starting now?

God I can't get worked up about this. I need to go to bed. Goodnight.

PS - Homo had a vegetable soup today for lunch, and a roll. Are you fucking kidding me!?

Book Review: Little T Learns to Share

I realized halfway through practice today that I was passing to tackling dummies. I figured the receivers were just playing a trick on me by not catching any balls, and being shaped like bowling pins. Anyway, after about 2 hours of drills I realized I was by myself on some field somewhere. Since nobody really noticed me, I took off.

On my way home I stopped at the nearest Barnes and Noble to pick up a book about cattle, when I noticed T.O.'s new book "Little T Learns to Share." I decided to purchase it, and let me tell you, I was NOT disappointed.

I've read T.O.'s other books ("Catch This!" and the self titled "T.O.") but this one trumped them all. None of that "over-intelligent" words bullshit. This one was just sweet pictures, easy to read large text, and clear morals. It's a real page turner, and by the end, honest-to-god, I was crying. That's right, Future Hall of Fame quarterback, Drew Bledsoe, moved to tears. I can admit it.

I've decided to write a review of the book, and different lessons that Homo could take from this wonderful graphic novella. (Warning: This review contains spoilers. If you haven't read the book yet, I suggest you take this time to order the book from Amazon. Do NOT keep reading.)

The novella begins as the titular character "Little T" receives a brand new football as a gift from his proud mother and father. So happy with his brand new ball, Little T does not want to let anybody play with it. Chapter one ends with Little T playing ball by himself. (Note: There are no defined chapters, I just placed them there as I saw a break in the flow of action)

Moral: If you do well, you get a football. If you lose against the Washington Redskins, a team I beat 27-10, you get a loogie in your shoe. That's just how things work.

Chapter two begins with our protagonist "T" realizing he can't play football by himself. Ultimately, he decides to share the football with his friends. He has more fun playing with them, than he did playing by himself. He finally understands the value of sharing. Such a poignant moment.

Moral: Keep throwing into double coverage like that, and teams with decent secondary's will pick you off all day long. You think the Colts are gonna let you air out 30 yard wounded ducks to Crayton? You're in for a world of pain, Homo. A world of pain.

Chapter three is just an about the author, it talks about T.O. and stuff. No real moral there.

Anyway, I picked up an extra copy to give to Homo before Sunday's big game against Indy. I figure this will be his last game as starting quarterback for the Dallas Cowboys and will have plenty of time to read it next week.

All right, I gotta go. I see my little kids eyeing the book, but I wanted to read it a couple times before I go to sleep. Children these days... no respect for their parents.

Leave the Poor Kid Alone!

I'm hearing plenty of rumors every day about the Jessica Simpson/Tony Romo affair. And let me be the first to say, that these reports are untrue.

Actually, to be more precise, these reports are COMPLETELY untrue, and beyond the realm of possible. Absolutely 100% inplausable. I mean, one quick glance at the kid and you know that the allegations are udderly false. In fact, they are borderline insulting.

This reminds me of the time my down-syndrome cousin was feeling depressed, so my aunt and uncle kept asking him "Hey! Didn't I see you at the movies with Pam Anderson!?" except it didn't cheer him up. He felt their pity, and that guilt made him feel ugly. Uglier than he ever felt before.

Anyway, what I'm trying to say is, any retard can throw for 300 yards against the Cardinals' secondary. Just leave the poor kid alone!

ps - The Colts are favored by 1.5 points against us this week. So if anybody knows a bookie that will let me put up my entire Patriots contract on Indy (10 years, $103 million, no big deal) let me know. I've got four children I need to feed, and these Burgers don't buy themselves.

This Sucks.

Wow, we beat Arizona! Guess what? So did the Raiders.

Wow, 300 yards and no interceptions against the Cardinals! Guess what? So did Alex Smith.

I guess we looked just as good as the Raiders lead by Alex Smith? Talk about "America's Team."

Anyway, the plane ride back sucked. I didn't feel like blogging much. I actually don't feel like blogging now. I just wanted to check in. I did draw this sweet picture of a Burger on the plane ride, while everybody else was asleep.

Managed to snap this camera phone picture of it:


That's a fifty footer, y'all.

I'm gonna cry.

Liveblogging at 40,000 feet

I get pretty lonely on these flights, so I decided to borrow my sons laptop for this trip, so I can live-blog the entire flight from Dallas to Phoenix. The captain just said it’ll be a little over two hours – just plenty of time for Homo to embarrass himself, and me to blog about it.

Minute 8: Pilot says we’ve reached our cruising altitude of 35,000 feet. I’m not pretty good at math, but that’s pretty close to my career yardage. I just yelled out “Good thing we’re not flying at Homo’s career yardage altitude! Otherwise we’d be hitting some Mountains on the way!” Nobody really heard me, I guess. Airplanes are pretty loud.

Minute 13: I just glanced over to Homo and he was perusing Skymall. He was eyeing Item 13357J: Shower Mirror with Clock. “Enjoy the best environment for the closest shave: a steamy shower and crystal-clear reflection.” He just told somebody he loves Skymall because most products are duty free if you order before landing. I wish I could free my Duty. In his cleats.

Meanwhile, there’s only one Skymall product for me, and that’s the World’s Largest Crossword Puzzle. Yup, every ride I check out item 66813J… “Holding the Guinness record for its size, this crossword hangs on a full 7 foot by 7 foot wall space and has 28,000 clues for every 91,000 squares…no repeats!” People don’t know this, but I’m a crossword puzzle guru. I’ve never completed one, because I usually get bored, but I can get 10-15 words off the bat easily. One day I’m gonna purchase this baby, and complete it, to cement my place in Canton. (The Pro Football Hall of Fame loves extra curriculars like these). Anyway, back to what’s important…

Minute 21: Homo just got up to stretch his legs. He’s just trying to rub in the fact that he’s playing tomorrow and I’m not. I didn’t want him to get away with it, so we had a little shouting match.

Me: Stretching the ole legs huh?
Homo: Yup.
Me: Gotta keep them fresh for tomorrow!
Homo: Ha, it’s not that, I just always get sore knees when –
Me: Yeah, not really interested.
Homo: Huh?
Me: I said I don’t give a shit, just sit down.
Homo: Okay... whatever.

Got him.

Minute 43: Homo is up again, this time to take a piss. I know that because when he walked by me I said “Number 1 or Number 2?” he said “Number 1.” And I said “Gross! Hey everybody, Romo’s about to take a dump!” Then he told me “Number 1 means piss, actually. I got up to pee.” I knew that, I just forgot. Doesn’t make him a better quarterback than me or whatever.

Minute 55: I took a seat next to Terry Glenn momentarily. Terry is our #2 receiver and was recently downgraded to doubtful for Sunday because of an issue with his knee. I asked him how he was feeling and he said, “Sore, man. Really sore.” I assured him, that if this “bone on bone” pain he was feeling -- if it was in anyway caused by Homo, that I would back Terry up if he went to tell Coach. I told him if he suspected ANY signs of foul play, that he should tell coach right away, and that I would corroborate any story. Terry looked at me very strangely as if he didn’t understand, but I winked. And I think that hammered the point home quite nicely.

Minute 71: Coach always says that a great quarterback can name every defensive lineman that he’s going to face. So I decided to embarrass Homo by asking him to name every D-Lineman on Arizona in front of Coach. I did, and I forget their names but he got them all. Coach looked at Homo and smiled “Good work, Tony.” That one sorta backfired a little.

Minute 86: I caught Homo napping, so I decided to have a little fun. I whipped out my sharpie (any future hall of famer always carries a sharpie, you never know when the next autograph request is going to come) and I sneaked up from behind Homo and was about to start drawing a Hitler mustache on him, when he slapped my wrist away. “Dude, what are you doing?!” Turns out he wasn’t napping, his eyelids just look closed from my angle. That idiot doesn’t even know how to look awake!

Minute 110: I spent the last 20 minutes eating a couple Burgers my wife packed for me. Just the patties, but they were delicious. I asked Homo where his Burgers were and he said something like “Actually, I can go two hours without eating, thanks.” People chuckled. Then I was like “Eating thanks? What’s eating thanks? I’ve never had Thanks. Is that something they serve in Hippy California? It sounds shitty.” Got him. Again.

Minute 117: Time to turn off any electronic devices and restore upright seating positions and trey tables to their locked positions. That’s right, we’re landing, which means its time for me to play ‘throw peanuts at Homo.’

This blog really helped pass the time, usually these flights are pretty awful. I guess its true what they say: Time flies when you’re flying time!

Haha. I’m glad smart people read my blog because I bet Homo wouldn’t have even gotten that joke.

PS – I forgot my prediction for Sunday. Arizona has the worst record in the league, so I’ll keep it a little closer this time. Cardinals 56 – Cowboys 21 (all field goals). Later skaters

4th and Infinity

Sorry about not posting yesterday, but I came home from practice and was just physically and emotionally dead.

My wonderful wife cooked a wonderful dinner, and we ate it with my four wonderful children, yet all I wanted to do, was sit, stare, and wonder about why the hell I'm not a starting quarterback.

At one point, we were listening to Magic 95.5 FM, soft rock, less talk, get through your day, number one arbitron rated listen-at-work radio station and home of the famous 75 minute non stop music blocks, as we always do during dinner, and Eric Clapton's "Tears in Heaven" came on.

It's melodic rhythms and sad tones just got to me as I began bawling over the delicious Burgers my wife prepared. One of my three sons asked his mommy why daddy was crying. Always the quick thinker, my wife made up some elaborate lie about Clapton's son dying when he was a little child, and that's what made me sad. The thought of losing one of my children.

The little bastard believed it.

I'm not saying it wouldn't be tragic losing one of my children, but I have four kids, and only one starting job. Do the math people.

Anyway, another week another Saturday flight. This one is to Arizona. Isn't it convenient how Homo was named starter right when our schedule called for back-to-back-to-back road games. I mean, anybody can win on the road, I'd like to see how this kid handles the pressure of performing in front of 65,000 fans hoping he fails.

You know, I used to look forward to these flights because I got to play little pranks on Homo, as he has a fear of flying. I would do little stuff like opening the emergency door during take off, or putting a drop of ear medicine into a sandwich I prepared for him. But recently, I don't even have the urge to mess with him anymore. Sure I'll still tamper with and disable smoke detectors in the lavatories and blame it on him, but even watching him pay that fine has lost most of its amusement.

Something is going to have to change soon. I can't do this much longer.

PS - I had that dream again last night. The one where I'm leading my team to victory in Superbowl XLVI. But this time, it was Superbowl HOMO. For some reason those Roman numerals made sense at the time. And instead of throwing a game winning touchdown, our team was only down 2, so we went for the field goal, and Homo was the place holder and our kicker (I only dream about Jose Cortez) took a huge swing with his leg and actually kicked Homo's head off through the uprights.

The refs were so impressed that they gave us 4 points. Then I argued with them saying they didn't have to cheat. I pleaded that we would have already won by one point fair and square if they had just given us three points like any normal field goal. The crowd was so unbelievably touched by my gesture that I was named MVP. Here's a question: If I sleep for more hours of the day than I'm awake, isn't it more important that my dreams are far more entertaining than my dismal reality? I need to go to bed.

Are You Shitting Me?

Am I living in some sort of bizarro world? Honestly. I know it's not just me. I get people coming up to me on the street asking me why Homo is still starting. I get comments on this blog all the time that state I should be the starter. They say "Drew, you're the man!" Because everybody knows I am the man. They shout "Drew, how can you be the man this much?" and I have no response because I honestly don't know how I became this much of the man.

Then, today, I come into practice, and everybody is walking around like they didn't even watch Sunday's game! (Washington 22 - Dallas 19)

I got there real early so I could get a front row seat to Tuna's announcement that I was now the starting QB. Then I hear there is no announcement today. I was so confused. Isn't that something you declare formally? I mean, I hate Homo as much as the next guy, but you can't just make the switch at quarterback without telling the media. That's just borderline rude.

So I decide to go into coach's office before practice starts and hear the news from the man himself. If he's not going to make a public apology, at least he'll make one in private, right? So I turn on my tape recorder, because I know this conversation will make great fodder for the blog, and I record the following conversation.

The only problem was, when I went to upload it, it was very tough to understand, so I typed out this transcript:

Me: Hey, Coach, Can I come in?

Coach: Sure, Hey Drew. What's up.

Me: John told me there's no announcement today?

Coach: Announcement for what?

Me: For the quarterback position. You had one when you named Home-- Romo the starter.

Coach: There's no announcement.

Me: Okay so I'm just the starter? No media event? That's a little disappointing. Romo practically got a parade.

Coach: No Drew. There's no announcement because there's no change. Tony is still our starting Quarterback.

Me: (Chuckling)

Coach: I'm serious.

Me: Is he behind me? Or something? What's going on coach? You're acting weird.

Coach: Drew, Tony played very well. He had 284 yards, two touchdowns, and managed the game effectively.

Me: But we lost!

Coach: We lost on a fluke play.

Me: But we lost! Homo lost!

Coach: You're going to need to stop calling him that.

Me: I cannot fucking believe this! Did you know some blog voted me the all time best Dallas quarterback just the other day?!

Coach: What's a blog?

Me: This is not happening. This can't be real.

Coach: Drew. Why don't you take practice off today. You know the playbook. You need the rest.

Me: NO! I'm starting on Sunday. I need to practice.

Coach: Drew, you're not starting. take the day off. Go vote or something.

Me: Vote? For what?

Coach: Midterm elections are today, Drew. Don't you vote?

Me: No. I don't know what those are. I never vote.

Coach: Why not?

Me: I'm not referred, I don't know. Stop changing the subject.

Coach: Referred? You mean registered?

Me: Whatever. I can't believe this is happening.

Coach: You don't know what voting is, do you?

Me: Will you... stop talking about voting!? I don't even care!

Coach: Drew, do you know who our president is?

Me: George Bush, okay?

Coach: Vice President?

Me: I hate you.

Coach: If you can name our Vice President, I'll start you on Sunday.

Me: I don't... wanna start. Okay? I hate this.

Coach: Drew, I want you to take the day off.

Me: No!

Coach: I'm not asking you.

Me: Fine. Want a Burger?

Coach: It's 8:20 am.

Me: That's Burger time.

Coach: Just go.

Me: Burgers.

---
And that was that. I hit up Kincaid's in Cowtown for two old fashioned cheeseburgers and went home early. I was still pretty hungover so I needed the rest.

This sucks.

ps - By the way, Trent Green, I know you're reading this buddy. Buy GaymonHuard.com. Join the brotherhood...

pps - For your guys' information, I know that our Vice President is Richard Bruce "Dick" Cheney (born January 30, 1941) is the 46th and current Vice President of the United States, serving under President George W. Bush. Previously, he served as White House Chief of Staff, member of the U.S. House of Representatives from Wyoming, and Secretary of Defense. I'm not an idiot.

Celebrate Good Times, Come On.

Ey everybody. Apologies in advance its now 455 am Dallas time and I am in no condition to be writing this blog... I find, in fact myself, a little bit, "incoroborated" if that's evena word. A little "drunk" as it were.

You see, after Homo's perfermence in sundays game against the skins, I knew the starting job was mine again (though no official word from coach yet...) so my old Jr. High boy's came down to texas to help me CELEBRATE,wallawalla washington style! That means Colt 45's and twinkies and doozle donuts which is just pouring kool-aid powder on glazed krispy kremes. I like the blues.

Ummm my last boy Cody just passed out right now on the guest room couch (i've got three guest rooms) and I decided to fire up the ole computer to dosome late night bloggin' cuz i haven't blogged today cuz the bbq started at 3 and the drinks started at 3:05. can that

Can that really be?? Hey guys, you know I shouldnt be drinking because I'm back to starting qb, so don't tell the dudes on the team. thank you so much. I owe you guys a solid for this, honestly. The feedback i've gotten from this thing is so valuable. I know i cant be a starting qb for much longer (seven... nine more years, tops) and my life as a proffesional author/essayist is is going having to begin sooner or later, and im gonna look back to this time in my life and say "YES. This is where it happened. This is where i was first recognized for being not only a future hall of fame passer, but a future hall of fame writer. and blogger." Kay fuck this sentimental bullshit, who wants a crepe? My wife made crepes. brb.

PS - I fucking hate TOny Homo. Can I just say that? Can i just be 100% honest with you guys? You readers are like, probably my best friends. And im not just blowing smoke up your ass if any of you wanna get Burgers, any time, any day I will come to your house and grill up some Burgers. I'm being so sseirous right now. I am. What...are your guys' thoughts on relish?

Hey. What else? Tomorrow is practice number one this week back as a starter, can we just agree that its weird? Its weird that Coach hasn't gone outright and said it? Is he dancing around the issue or what?! goddamn. I dont know if its an unspoken thing, or that he doesn't wanna affect romo by coming out and saying it? Because when you've been in the league as long as I have, you sorta just know these things. You know you're gonna start, and you know Homo sucks. I guess its just experience... Its weird though,r ight? its not just me?

All right i need to stop writing now bye.

ps - I think I'm going to make a customized "Homo" cowboys jersey and have it outsell actual Romo jerseys. Then i'll get the exact sales figures from corporate and pin them to homo's locker and be like " " i dunno, i'll be sarcastic and funny. Should be good.

I hate to say I told you so...

You always hate it when your team loses. No question. It's the worst feeling in the world. It's just this indescribable heaviness that you feel, that you not only let the other 52 people in the lockerroom down, but millions of fans world-wide. It's just the absolute worst...

...that being said, I've never been so happy in my entire life! I told you guys we would suck! Yes, my prediction was 52-7 but a loss is a loss. Oh, man it feels so great to have people finally come to grips with how bad Homo is at quarterback. Sure, the bad news is, we lost the game, as I predicted. But the great news is, you are now reading the blog of STARTING quarterback Drew Bledsoe!

Coach hasn't made the official change yet, but it's pretty obvious it's coming. I mean, in this business, you have to show results, and when you're putting up losses against the lowly Redskins, that's just not gonna cut it. And I reminded Homo of that every time he came off the field I mouthed to him "this isn't gonna cut it." Whether or not he was looking at me was up to him.

Let's take a look at Homo's numbers, but remember, nothing is as important as that LOSS he put up: He had 12 incompletions (one during a two point conversion), sacked twice, and one rush for one yard. Let me repeat that: ONE RUSH, for ONE YARD. So I guess when people call him a "Mobile Quarterback" they just mean the city in Alabama where he's from?

Here are my numbers against Washington, in week 2: 19 completions, 237 yards, two touchdowns, and more importantly WE WON THE GAME!

Some great behind the scenes moments included Romo throwing his helmet to the floor in frustration after our second drive in which we amassed four yards of total offense. I said, "Hey, the endzone is that way, and that's a helmet, not a football. And you're supposed to spike it AFTER you score a touchdown! Homo." Nobody got it. But I thought it was pretty funny.

And then, after Homo's errant pass was actually hauled in by TO for a touchdown, Homo had the gall to celebrate. Running towards the sidelines with that big loser grin on his face. He went to high five me but I just ignored him and said "I don't wanna get shitty quarterback cooties." The look on his face woulda been priceless if he didnt just keep running past me and celebrated with the quarterback coach and our offensive line.

As Washington's winning field goal was kicked, and coach ran towards midfield to congratulate Joe Gibbs, I was sorta running after him yelling "I accept! I accept!" assuming he would turn around and offer me my starting job back, or at least the game ball. He didn't do either, which I thought was pretty thoughtful of him considering Homo was not too far away, and he may have heard us.

Today is Monday, and we don't have practice, but I think I'm gonna take the day to study tape of the Arizona Cardinals. Practice on Tuesday is gonna be great. I said it was fun practicing with the second team, but I was mostly lying to myself so I could keep from completely losing it.

It feels so good to be back.

PS - did anybody take my fantasy advice and start Washington's D? I bet you were sitting pretty with that nice Safety in the first quarter! Did you drop Homo yet?

Practice was Perfect!

Hey everybody, I realize this blog has been a bit of a downer, and I apologize far that. It's only because I've been in a sour mood recently, and this blog is a reflection of that. I'm usually a pretty happy guy. However, today was our last practice this week before flying off to DC, and I have to admit, it was my favorite practice of the year. I'm im a good mood for the first time, in probably three weeks.

Ever since Homo stole the starting job from me, I've been practicing with the second squad down on the lower field, away from the starters and the media. Honestly, it was rough at first looking up there and seeing my real teammates, but I'm starting to get used to these new guys. Class acts like Miles Austin, and Sam Hurd. No multi-million dollar contracts (except for myself of course), just a bunch of guys willing to hustle, and stay awake during meetings. (I'm still allowed two 15 minute naps a week.)

Today we were just ripping Homo in practice. It was so awesome. I started impersonating a couple of his throws and then I ran around like a fairy, screaming like a little girl and started doing cartwheels for no reason. I was in the middle of a pantomimed tea party when they started really cracking up, and Sam said "He's lost his mind!" Finally, I understood what they were talking about... and they were right: Tony Romo is crazy! I finally felt like I was part of the team again. I tried to give one of them a hug, I forget his name, but he kinda pushed me away. Just like a real family...

After that, I got pretty excited and asked them to give me some embarassing stories about Homo, so that I could blog about it! They were all just acting dumb, like "What the hell is a blog?" Seriously, you guys have never seen a bunch of jokesters like this in your life. Truly MY kind of people! I know you guys are all reading this now, so "Hey Fella's! See ya Tomorrow :) "

All right, I'm gonna need to rest up and get on a flight tomorrow. I'm not sure what the internet situation will be like on the road, so I better make my Sunday predictions right now.

You hate to root against your own team, but as a realist I understand that a team cannot win without a quarterback. So, barring a miracle (Like Homo severely hurting his neck or something) I'm gonna say Washington 52 - Dallas 7.

I can already read the comments now, "Drew! I understand seven points offensively because you have an unathletic moron at quarterback, but 52 points for the 'Skins? Don't you respect your defense!?" But, I do! Where do you think those 7 points are going to come from? It ain't our offense, thats for sure.

What you guys probably dont understand is that we could have the best defense of all time but that won't mean anything. I mean, you can staple a football to a duck then slice its head off, it would have a better pocket presense than Homo. Come to think of it, that slippery son of a bitch would be pretty tough to sack also. I wonder if there's a rule against that...

Anyway, our defense is great but it needs some time off the field, and with Tony "Three and Out" Romo at the helm, that's not looking too promising.

On the plus side, I dropped Carolina Defense and picked up Washington Defense this week in my fantasy. Lookin' at a handful of picks, and a couple TD's on Sunday! And just as a rule of thumb, I highly suggest you fantasy owners just continuously drop and add defenses that are playing against us. At least until coach comes to his senses and starts me.

See ya, football fans!

PS - Oh, by the way, after practice I stole Chris Palmer's clipboard -- he's the QB Coach here. It said, and I quote "Romo: 2 Incompletions today." And that's WITHOUT a defense. You guys arent future hall of famers (like myself), so I'll dumb it down for you. Two incompletions in practice is roughly equivalent to going 9-39 with sixteen INT in an actual game. We are so screwed for Sunday...

PPS - This is just a note to myself, you guys don't need to read this part: "Drew -- Write treatment for movie script about a duck playing quarterback. Working title -- Personal Fowl"

My Open Letter to Byron Leftwich

In case most of you don't follow other teams, another member of my quarterback fraternity went down this week. Byron Leftwich, starting quarterback for the Jacksonville Jaguars has been told he's being benched for back up David Garrard. Just typing that makes me want to puke. This epidemic is getting out of hand.

I know how Byron feels. I want to reach out to him the only way I know how: An open letter in my blog. I know Byron is an avid TonyHomo.com reader, he said so on ESPN news. So here it goes:

Dear Byron,

Feel like somebody just punched you in the stomach? I know how you feel man. One minute you're leading your team to victory, the next, they pull you for some no-name (clearly homosexual in my case) loser who has "better mobility," for no good reason. Your own wife can't even look at you, and you resort to cheating at Scrabble against your seven year old son just to win something again. "Yes, Johnny, 'Sambies' is a word. Daddy wouldn't lie to you. And that's triple word score, so go to bed, bitch."

We are starters, Byron. And we deserve to be starting.

I mean, we both lost to some pretty good teams early on, but who didn't?! That doesn't give them the reason to bench us! Hell, the Giants are great this year, and... Oh, man. You lost to the Texans!? By Twenty!? Jesus. We beat them by 28... I'm just sayin'

Actually, let me just pull up some stats from both of our games... I was 17-28, 168 yards passing, two scores and no picks. Solid outing. Then again, when am I not? You were 14-28 for 125 yards and no scores. Hm. That's actually pretty embarrassing, dude.

But you know what? No. That doesn't matter. We both deserve to be starting in this league. Yes, me moreso than you, but that doesn't take anything away from yourself! You're also pretty good at football. Just not enough to beat the Texans. Hey they're pretty good this year. That 2-5 record is ... deceiving.

I remember two years ago we owned this league. Defense feared us. Now? Well, they still fear me, but honestly, you've slipped a little. Jesus, did you really lose to the Texans? I need to double check that.

My god, 27-7... who are you, Daunte Culpepper? No! You two don't look alike, its just that you both lost to Houston. I wasn't implying that you all look alike! I'm sorry. You get what I'm saying. I mean, at least we know your whole ordeal isn't racially motivated...

Anyway, Byron, if you need a shoulder to lean on, you know how to reach me. And if you're looking to blog your anger away, let me just say, DavidGayRard.com? -- Still available.

Yours Truly,

Drew.