Tom Brady = America

Tom Brady is the result of Brett Favre and Whitney Houston having sex in that Wisconsin barn all those years ago.

It was too funny. If it's regular-funny then I can say, ya know, "that's funny!" and it won't be totally lame. But if it's this funny I have to have some sort of a funny response that shows that I get it's funny but then also carry on the funniness -- and that's like, WAY too much work for me. (Slappy's better at that kind of thing.)

After defeating the Giants Sunday, Tom Brady will be executed and his corpse preserved, a la Lenin, for display at events of great national import. It is in the interest of all Americans that his boyish Californian looks be captured in eternity and exhibited, for example, beside the Vice President at State of the Union Addresses.

Brady will also replace the Bald Eagle as the official symbol of our great land.



And for good reason, in this author's opinion. For Brady is literally the spawn of Steve Rogers (Captain America's alter ego) and Jackie, that quiet girl who sat next to you in high school art class and was beautiful enough to curry the envy of popular girls but too cool to care. She moved to another school before you could muster the courage to give her your shitty poem. Tom Brady flies low to the ground in a hot air balloon, strumming chords on a Stratocaster--chords that shatter the bifocals of all nerds--occasionally putting the guitar down to smile or throw touchdowns or boink models.

Look, there he is, up there! Wave to him.