I saw Prince at Hooters

Unfortunately, I didn't have time to take a picture of the OLD "Purple One," but I did get my picture taken with these fine suppliers of wingery.

I'll write more about the chance meeting later - just know that the story does NOT end at Hooters.

FSU Lineman

Ted Thompson will be drafting this guy with his first round pick.

I'm HUGE in Iraq!

Thanks to the Associated Press for finding this one.

Turns out that even Iraqi prisoners love me. They're giving the troops from Wisconsin all kinds of shit.

It's true - I transcend religion, geographical regions - hell, even waterboarding!

We want the ball - and we're gonna score!

Matt, Matt, Matt...
Remember those words? Yeah - me too.

Well tough guy - you were my bitch from 1998 - 2000, you were my bitch in 2004, and you'll be my bitch again in 2009.

Welcome to Thunderdome, baby.

Hawaii - I'm SO there.

South Florida? Nope. Don't think so. Everyone knows that the Pro Bowl is - and always will be - held in Hawaii.

I'm not some dumb hick. You can't pull one over on me.

See ya in Hawaii, bitches!

Sore losers...

The people in Green Bay are just cry babies...

Look what someone did to MY street.

Ridiculous.

Seriously??

I really didn't know this happened, as I was playing the game on Monday - not watching it.

Can ESPN really be this dumb?

What a bunch of idiots.

Esteban has it right...

Chad Ochocinco (The player formerly known as Chad Johnson) of the Cincinnati Bengals did something that can only be described as PURE GENIUS last year.

He changed his name.

You may ask why I view that as genius. It's simple, really.

Jersey sales = dollars.

Let's say you're a HUGE Chad fan. You've dropped the $300 to buy his authentic jersey. (Side note: Anything but an authentic, on-field jersey is crap.)

So anyway - you go to your local bar, wearing your jersey, and what do you know... Chad "Johnson" doesn't play for the Bengals anymore. Chad "OCHOCINCO," however, does.

Translation - you're about to be out another $300. (And Chad Ochocinco is about to get another paycheck.)

So what does everyone think? Dare I change my name to "El Cuatro?"

Vier?
Quatre?
Fyra?

Honestly, I could do this every year (for different teams, of course) and my jersey sales would SKYROCKET.

Chad - you are a marketing genius. Period.

Spa Day yesterday

After the thrashing I put on the Packers Monday night - I decided to take Tuesday off. No game film, no practice, no trainers - nothing. Hell, I earned it.

I spent my entire day at the Solimar Day Spa. What a totally fabulous day.

I got a facial, a pedicure, a "body & soak journey," and even treated my self to a little waxing. (Where, you ask? I'll never tell!)

I highly recommend their services. Be sure to ask for Kim Spinner.

Joe Heller - You little bitch

Joe Heller of the Green Bay Press Gazette has done it again...

You little bitch. You'll get yours. I can't wait to see the cartoon you draw on Tuesday morning.

Ed Gein? Seriously?

Check this out. I can't make this shit up.

So let me get this straight Chilly - you want me to kill people now?

Granted - everyone from announcers, to sports writers, to ESPN anchors have given me a pass on everything I've done - but I think if I really DO kill someone - I'll get called on it.

On an unrelated note - does anyone know where Ted Thompson's seats are for Monday?

Gotta Make the donuts...

So I decided to take the day off yesterday.

Let's face it - I don't need practice. I'm at the top of my game. I know it. Always did know it. It just took one stupid pass to win the game against San Francisco, and look at that. You're all on board now.

So I had nothing to do.

I took a ride to the Old Fashioned Donut Shoppe. (I love any business attempting to get the "old world feel" by adding an "PE" to the word "Shop." It's genius, actually.

Isn't it amazing that by adding 2 little letters, you get instant gravitas. (Kind of like adding "BF" to the Vikings. I'm just sayin'...)

So I walk in - and instantly the staff knows. Brett is here. We need to make this special.

So Joe, the owner, invites me back to see the process. It's really not a whole lot different than football.

You put a bunch of ingredients in a bowl, (locker room) mix them up, (training camp) mold all of it into a shape that you find appealing and discard the unnecessary, (roster cuts) and then cook it. (games)

What you get is really pretty good. But it's not done yet. You're missing one critical piece that separates it all.

Toppings.

Let's call it like it is. You could top a donut with sour cream (Sage Rosenfels) or you could top it with turkey gravy. (Tavaris Jackson) But realistically, who'd pay for that crap? (Season ticket sales)

No, no, no... You top a donut with the sweetest, most magnificent thing in the world. Icing. (Brett Favre)

Then - the donut is amazing. It's perfection in a circle. (Super Bowl.)

I'm not saying that I guarantee I'll win another Super Bowl this year. But I'm sure as hell not saying that I wont.

Has it been a month already?

Whoa. Seriously? It's been a month since I wrote on this thing? What can I say? It's been busy. Busy leading my team to 3-0!

I'll post something later - I'm sure.

I'd like to apologize (yeah, right) to Jets/Vikings/Packers Nation.

Team Building

So Chilly decides that the "cornerstones" of his offense need to get along better. I'm not sure what his deal was - I think I get along fine with everyone. (That is, as long as everyone knows who's in charge.) So he takes me and "All Day" out for a paintball outing.

Which begs the question - if his name is Adrian Peterson, his initials are A.P., right? So why the hell is his nickname All Day? I mean, MY initials are B.F. - which stands for "Best Footballer." His nickname should be "Allows Points," or something, right?

So, if you know anything about me, it's this. I like to hunt. Birds, deer, squirrels, chipmunks - whatever. Guns? I got 'em. Camo? I got that too. I've got ATV's, 4x4's, 6x6's - you name it - I got it. I have experience in outdoorsy stuff. I figure I'm going to rock this. Maybe I'll go pro. There IS a professional paintball league, isn't there? Readers - please help if you know of something, ok?

We get out in the woods, get suited up, and get matched up with some yahoos from Brooklyn Park. Nice enough guys, but they smelled like asparagus. It was weird.

They start the first round, and we scatter. I head for the tree line, and wait.

I'm sensing movement to the north.
I wait.
I see the tall grass move in an unnatural way.
I wait.

Then, from the tall grass, a figure emerges. I take aim, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, and squeeze the trigger...

I shoot Adrian. (Just another example of someone NOT following the play I call. He was NOT where he was supposed to be.)

He starts crying like Warren Sapp. Seriously. He's laying in the dirt, with these big tears rolling down his cheeks, sobbing like a damn 4 year old.

So Chilly runs over to him, cradles him in his arms, and says, "It's ok Ade - everything is going to be all right."

So I shot Chilly just on principle.

I can't stand whiners and crybabies.

His initials are A.P., right? How about "Always Pussing?"

Agents...

As everyone pretty much knows, my Agent is Bus Cook. People always ask me, "Brett, Why Bus? Why not Rosenhaus?"

Drew Rosenhaus is the MAN when it comes to sports agents. He just is. They based that Tom Cruise movie on him. (OK, not the Tom Cruise pantywaste character, but the Jay Mohr, shark character - you know who I'm talking about.)

Anyway - After I left Green Bay, I decided I was going to give Rosenhaus a shot. He wouldn't have had to do a whole lot, just make sure that I was able to feed Deanna & the girls. Pretty simple, right? Oh yeah - he also had to get me a gig in a Polka band. I don't know why - but I've always had a soft spot in my heart for the polka. It's beautiful.

Back when I was 13, I begged my parents to let me take Austrian Trumpet lessons. Dad didn't want to hear it. He coached football, and that was what I was going to do. Period. End of discussion.

That was fine, until college. I found a little trumpet school just outside of Hattiesburg, and went there after my classes. I got pretty good. Good enough, where I almost decided NOT to enter the draft. Dad would have killed me.

So anyway - to make a long story short, Bus made it happen, and Drew didn't. Here's a picture. I made Bus sit in for the picture holding the flute.


He's a decent enough guy, but after I signed with Minnesota, he stopped banging the accordionist sitting front center.

You don't want to know what THAT cost me.