Mark My Words: “The Braylon Edwards Story” will End in Tears

Braylon Edwards is an egomaniacal, selfish asshole whose brain is incapable of processing abstract concepts such as “Others” or “Consequences”. He cannot compute simple mathematical calculations like “This action + this action could = negative outcome”. In today’s professional sports environment people like him are a dime a dozen. But I have a gut feeling on this one. He’s going to cause some very serious emotional distress for someone, a group of people, possibly even an entire team’s fan base. He is big and strong and fast and could be an elite receiver. He never will be though, because he has zero heart, doesn’t give a shit about anyone outside of himself and loves to drop passes. He was out drinking with Donte Stallworth in 2009 the night before Stallworth ran over a guy while driving drunk, and killed him. Most of us would look at that experience and say “Wow, I’m a rich guy with plenty of options outside of driving drunk and killing an innocent dude”. Not this Class 1AA Asshole. Take a cab, dick. Hire a fucking driver. Also in the car when Edwards was pulled over were Jets players D’Brickashaw Ferguson and Vernon Gholston. Together these three morons are probably worth about a quarter of a billion dollars. They could have hired David Hasselhoff to drive them around in Kitt all night if they wanted (Assuming they were paying in cash, not sure the Hoff has any bank accounts left). I’m worth about a quarter of a thousand dollars and I know to call a cab if I’m hammered. Not Braylon. He’s gonna drive. And if he kills someone, he doesn’t give a fuck. That’s their problem.

As a side note I was thoroughly disappointed when the Browns drafted this dickhole. I told everyone I talked to about it that I hoped they didn’t. I was in attendance at the Ohio State versus Michigan game in 2004 in Columbus. Michigan had a highly ranked team which included Edwards. Ohio State was in the midst of a bad season and was starting a lot of young players. Edwards was considered one of the best WRs in the country at the time. I watched him get shut the fuck down by Ashton Youboty who was a sophomore corner back. He dropped balls and sulked like a little bitch. He didn’t rise to anything and instead sat on the bench between series with an “I don’t give a flying fuck” look on his face. I thought he was a pussy then, and he is a confirmed pussy now.

About Zach

Male homo sapien. Warrior poet. I live in Chicago with one wife, one offspring, and Scout the dog. I enjoy various stuff. Besides skinny skiing and going to bullfights on acid, I also enjoy running, reading, drinking, eating and procrastinating on many things, such as starting this blog. I have a mom, a dad, and a younger brother who recently produced a sister-in-law. I'm the only person in my family, sister-in-law included, who doesn't have a post-graduate degree. I guess that makes me special. I grew up in a small to medium sized town in the middle of Ohio. In fact the even smaller town next door has a sign which reads "The Geographic Center of Ohio". Given this is what they choose to boast you can only imagine how exciting that town is. My town is infinitely cooler. For example on weekend nights people from my town and the surrounding villages and hamlets converge on the public square to "cruise" in their souped-up mini trucks, some bearing Confederate flags, despite growing up and living rather safely north of the Mason-Dixon line. This is high-minded stuff we're talking about here. I graduated sometime during the Clinton presidency from the local high school where I played football and participated in absolutely nothing else. This strategy paid huge dividends when I applied to numerous colleges on the eastern seaboard which were highly selective. When you show up to the admissions table with "HIgh School Football and Nothing Else" on your application, you get respect. After graduating from Ohio University with a degree in Economics that I've used for absolutely nothing, I moved to Boston. Boston is a lovely city. I was doing things I'm not proud of for beer money and I left after 16 months. My next move was to Chicago and 10+ years later there I still reside. I write this blog for therapeutic reasons. Much like some people paint to relax or smoke crack to unwind after a stressful day, I record my thoughts on Al Gore's World Wide Web for 9 friends, 4 family members, 1 person who accidentally clicked through after an unsuccessful Google search for something else, and a guy named Patriot1 who lives in a silver Air Stream in the Nevada desert and broadcasts his own radio show. Is there a point to all of this? I doubt it. Years ago and in a galaxy far, far away (College Park, Maryland, then Athens, Ohio) I was toying with the idea of being a journalism major. I enjoyed writing so it seemed the obvious fit. Then I attended career day and learned that journalism majors could look forward to a salary of $EA,TSH.IT per year with the promise of a fatal heart attack at 47 years of age. I'm not falling for that trick, I told them (them being no one, and told being saying it in my own mind in the shower). Approximately 15 years later here I sit declared the big winner in that battle: I never made any money doing anything else and now I'm writing entirely for free. So suck balls, journalism career day. The views expressed in this website are mine and mine entirely. I don't wish to be an even bigger black eye to my family than I probably already am. As a result of this I will never be able to run for public office and I accept that reality. But this website is a very dignified, well-dressed skeleton full of witty retorts and honorable deeds compared to the disheveled, stenching, staggering and loud skeletons who would come marching out of the closet to White Zombie's "Thunderkiss '65" if they ever unearthed the college years. So enjoy your train ride, your hangover day at work, your AA meeting or your dump. I'm here to serve.
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One Response to Mark My Words: “The Braylon Edwards Story” will End in Tears

  1. Nick says:

    He was an asshat early on at U-M, had a “come to Jesus” moment with Carr, and fooled a lot of people into believing that he had grown out of his asshattery just because he could physically dominate 95% of college cornerbacks. An asshat does not change his stripes.

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