Purple Jesus Nominated for ESPY, but has Eye on the Real Prize

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Minnesota’s own Purple Jesus has once again been nominated for “The Award that is as Relevant as an Adapter Powered Vibrator”, also known by self promoting chode chokers in Bristol, Connecticut as the “ESPY’s”. Ooooo! I bet Stuart Scott creams out of his glass eye every time he hears those four letters said out loud. This year, it’s for the “Best NFL Player”. I don’t know why they are doing nominations for this at all, as the answer here has been obvious ever since Purple Jesus’ draft day. Stupid bureaucratic red tape.

Anyway, Purple Jesus already has one of these lofty chrome chocolate wrappers in his vastly growing collection of other heathen made idol rewards, so I highly doubt he’s excited to receive another. In fact, I’m fairly certain that his eye is on an entirely different prize during these ESPY’s …

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Deanna Favre. Oh yeah. Let’s hear it from Purple Jesus himself.

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“Oh, Phoenix burning draw strings, that bitch be fine. Look at those massive sand bags just staring at you, piercing into your soul, sucking your cock tip from afar with dilated pupils. Sweet merciful unicorn cum! I would watch her run around the block all day long and be satisfied. I don’t know why that sack of digested pain pills Favre will only ride his tractor all day cutting grass instead of getting down and dirty and trimming some Deanna bush. Son of an English muffin! I would part her Red Sea twice a month, maybe more, if she needs it. Sweltering sewage dumpster, I’m getting light headed just thinking about this!

Brett, I’m all for you coming here and helping me win a Super Bowl and probably another craptastic ESPY award, but you need to keep your eye on the real prize here, buddy. Sweet mackerel on a shark line, I know I have! I would retire from football at the tender age of 24 just to wake up every morning with the opportunity to lather that full moon in the shower with some soft Dove body wash. I would tongue dart that brown spider every day before 9:00 AM, and sometimes again before our lovely lunch break, too! Fingering flimsiplast and murdering meat curtain, how could you get enough?

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Listen, Favre, I know all about the cancer thing, everyone does. I feel ya, too. It’s kind of gross. No, it’s really gross. I may have had my own reservations about it too, but you fought through it while she was getting better and I commend you for that, really. Honest Abe in a brothel, if I didn’t have the ability to cure cancer straight out of her body with a semen injection from my meat stick I’d have been out the door. Luckily, I have that ability, and with a little nudge from up above, I got some help to make sure Deanna looks just as sexy as always, if not better. Didn’t she use to have a butch cut?

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Whispering 12 year old virgin tears, that is a nightmare. It must be a Mississippi thing. Thank the Big Banger you had her spruce that tight little seal up when you guys went to New York, Brett, or you’d be made an asshole. Oops, too late! Nah, just kidding buddy.

But in all seriousness, I could care less about this fucking ESPY award. I know what prize I really want, and judging by the way she’s eye fucking me from that chair, I can tell this cougar wants to hunt. Masturbating monkeys, I just got a great idea! Let’s let her out of her cage, Brett, and we’ll put her in a Jungle Jane outfit out on your ranch, set her free and you and I will hunt her down with some tranquilizer darts than tag team that ass, yeah?

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Brett? Hey, Favre, Where are you going?”

PJD

About PJD

I once saw Paul Edinger kick a 56-yard field goal for the Minnesota Vikings against the Green Bay Packers to win a game in the Metrodome. It was exhilarating.

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