You know that Peyton Manning, Brett Favre, and Tom Brady went to see God, and God asked Peyton Manning, "What do you believe?" He said, "I believe in family, winning, and going after everything you can when you got the opportunity." God said, "I like that belief, take a seat on my left side." He asked Brett Favre, "What do you believe?" He said, "I believe in winning, going after everything, taking care of family." He said, "Man, I really like that belief, sit on my right side." He asked Tom Brady, "What do you believe?" Tom Brady says, "I believe you're in my seat."
I don't know why they always end the story there. Anyone who ever went to Sunday School as a crumbcruncher should know what happens next:
God does not laugh. Thy God is a jealous god. An epic smiting ensues. The firestorm upon New York City and Brazil makes Sodom and Gomorrah look like a light dusting of snow; the rash upon Brady's skin makes Job's boils feel like a mild case of dandruff. Meekly, Brady apologizes and is shown the door. Then the feast was begun, and the Favre--the Favre himself!--carved the roast beast.
OK, I made the last sentence up, but the rest is true!
I'll be out visiting my brother for in Des Moines a few days. We're watching the game with his friends at some gay bar, which seems wholly appropriate this year. It's his birthday.
(Go Giants, obviously.)
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