Julian Edelman’s Hairless Chipmunk

 JULIAN Julie after

BEFORE & AFTER SHAVE

While Tom Brady went on a world tour without his teammate Julian Edelman, the slot receiver created his own buzz.

Together with his own follower, Danny Amendola, the two close friends went to Mexico to learn how to wrestle. And, upon returning, won the notoriety that comes with being a nude inlay spread for ESPN’s naked athlete edition.

Posing in capes and masks may seem like child’s play, but ever since growing that mangy beard, Julie needed to compensate for something.

Now, our crack investigative skills have solved the mystery. We examined “before and after pix” of the twelve-packed short receiver in a variety of poses. We are now ready to deliver the fake news of the week.

It seems likely that Julie E and his constant donut companion Danny A have taken up the painful hobby of full body waxing.

It has paid off with an in tandem photo shoot with another Boston pipsqueak: Isaiah Thomas who bares all his tattoos in the upcoming ESPN Body Issue 2017.

Julie has spared himself the pain and agony, not of defeat, but of ink blots. Thomas, on the other shoulder and arm, has not. Both men have kept the Inkster away from their keester. Thank you, ESPN, for this salient bit of real news.

For months, Julian Edelman dropped hints that he had dropped his pantaloons for ESPN’s notorious nude issue. This year, following Gronk in 2012, five years earlier, Julie E flaunted and teased, his modus operandi in many spheres of life.

This time, he took with him another Boston superstar and admirer of Tom Brady: the chipmunk of the NBA, the effervescent Isaiah Thomas, a diminutive scoring machine of the Boston Celtics.

Both men are small for their sport, but normal in all matters not requiring mental agility and physical freakishness. Now they share the glow of healthy skin in a nude magazine spread.

It’s that glow of skin that has amused us: it was not always that way. We never forget a follicle, even if Tom Brady has had them transplanted from below his head. And now, hirsute Julie E.

 

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MacBird Outdid Trump as Caesar 45 years ago

 Julius Trump?

DATELINE:  Shakespeare in Absentia

We have seen many updated versions of Shakespeare over the years. Indeed, we enjoy seeing the Bard transported to new locations and timeframes. It often electrifies the message that has become stale to modern audiences.

We have seen Shakespeare set in Nazi Germany (Richard III), in the world of bikers (Coriolanus), in the world of independent film students (Hamlet), a corporate boardroom (Othello), and now we find a stage production of Julius Caesar in American politics.

The Shakespeare in the Park production makes Caesar a lookalike Donald Trump who hath grown ambitious. He has that chock of blond hair weave and an overlong red tie. He also has a bloated ego.

The man who would be emperor is assassinated by senators with knives, just like 2000 years ago. How much progress we have made in politics?

This version has created a firestorm, causing corporate sponsors to try to stifle artistic expression by withdrawing support. It’s a tempest in a teapot.

We think back to the Vietnam War days—and back then we must have been less sensitive because Macbeth was presented on stage in the form of MacBird.

That little ditty suggested that Lyndon Johnson had been behind the assassination of John Kennedy. In this cruel satire, without the Shakespearean tongue, the Scottish thane Macbird and his wife, Lady Bird, are party to a ruthless series of killings to rise to the top of the nation. Was Lyndon not born of woman?

We recall amusement about seeing a dumb tasteless play that presented President Johnson portrayed for conspiracy theorists  as Macbeth, but it did not quite engender the furor that President Trump has exemplified in a Caesar mode.

Satirizing politics of the moment has become a dangerous business. Just ask Alec Baldwin or Kathy Griffin who claim they are subject to social anger on social media.

So, too, Julius Caesar has created a debate—not about politics, but about art. To be or not, we’ll wait for the movie version.

TB12’s A-M DB 11

DATELINE: Tom Brady to Carpool to Work?

TB12's A-M DB 11

Just when you thought it was safe to drive to work during the early morning commute, you learn that Tom Brady is having a custom-made Aston-Martin fitted to his own design specifications.

This sort of transportation transcends the Mini-Cooper and even our own BMW.  Aston Martin will pay Brady some unspecified amount to endorse their low-budget $212,000 cars (options extra).

This certainly makes Peyton Manning’s pizza deal of a lifetime of pepperoni look like anchovies under glass.

In a world of have nots and Trump-level billionaires, Tom Brady is casting his lot with the X-press Way of La Dolce Vita. He will not be allowed to commute to Foxboro from Brookline in the express lane unless he carpools with Julie E.

We don’t see that happening. Julian Edelman lives in Foxboro, not toney Brookline.

A friend of ours met Tom some years ago when he was not far removed from being a sixth round draft pick.

He and my friend met at one of those Cape Cod charity events when Tom watched as our friend had his red MB SLK 320 roof slide into the back seat.

Tom was agog, and said: “I need to get one of those.”

How times have changed.

He can now afford three of those Mercedes to one Aston Martin DB 11.  When Tom pushes a button on his new A-M, the entire car folds into the back seat.

And we were going to tell him to buy Aaron Hernandez’s used assassin 4-Runner Deathmobile SUV for sentimental reasons. He’s outdone us again.

 

 

 

 

Shot Down by History Channel

DATELINE:  Disinvited and Unvisited

Not faked

Just two weeks after airing the first episodes of their series JFK Declassified, the reprehensible History channel has pulled the show. It’s the ultimate political shell game.

That essentially means it has gone into hiatus limbo.

Though the show was mercilessly criticized for a variety of reasons, not the least was dubious history, and most often cited as having the most egomaniacal host, Bob Baer, the show has gone, disappeared like the gunman on the grassy knoll.

Okay, okay, we were in that chorus of boohoo despisers of the fake news that the CIA is feeding us fifty years after the death of the murdered president.

Yet, there is something unseemly about the way this has been handled.

History has killed the show leaving four unaired episodes. When they will appear may be as certain as the trajectory of a magic bullet.

They could show up in a month, or a year. Or never.

Leave to History to shaft their viewers. A few may have enjoyed seeing another theory, no matter how half-baked or made to order to exonerate the CIA.  Now, they will not have any satisfaction.

Perhaps it is better to be infuriated and disappointed than to have nothing. It is an appalling mistreatment of the audience and viewers of that cable lightweight, History.

Single handedly they have gone for broke on destroying anything legitimately resembling documentary.

If you want to know who killed Cock Robin, or even JFK, you might look to the people who have killed history for a profit. They run the History channel.

 

 

Tom Brady’s Get-Rich Scheme

DATELINE: Co-starring Julian Edelman

 home Tom & Julie at home

The Boston Convention Center will be hosting an event on June 8 to guarantee Tom Brady will get richer quick. You will have your wallet deflated instantly.

Yes, the improbable Tony Robbins has roped in the Patriots star, and his sidekick, Julie Edelman, as guest speakers at his money-making extravaganza.

For $3000 you will receive priority check-in, which means Homeland Security will laugh at you. You will also have lunch in the Diamond Lounge, but Tom and Julie will be long-gone by then.

For $3000 you will sit in the Diamond Stage area and have a meet and greet with Tom and Julian. If you chose the $200 gold seats, you will be so far away from Tom that he couldn’t throw a pass to you with a bazooka.

This is billed as a “Systematized wealth plan.” Indeed, someone will be making big bucks off your ticket. And don’t ask for a refund. They claim you will love the event, but there are no money back guarantees. If Tom comes down with dyspepsia and misses out, so will your credit card.

How long will Tom speak? Our guess is about as long as the zeros in Tom’s bank account.

You will also receive Tony Robbins’ new book, which will be on the remainder table at Amazon in about a month.

We have learned that Julian has written a children’s book.  Beware, mom. It’s about a squirrel named Jules who collects big nuts. Most of them will be at this event.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Trump to Nominate Roger Goodell for FBI?

DATELINE:  Whimsy & Humor

illuminati

With the big news out of Washington that President Trump has fired FBI Director James Comey, the speculation has run rampant down to Foxboro about the next man Trump may select for a grueling Senate confirmation hearing.

And, the word around is that President Trump’s good friend, Bill Belichick, might be the grandest choice to head the crime fighting agency.

Trump appears ready to buck the past precedent to hire a man who relaxes in his mother’s old dresses.

Belichick shares a disdain for talking to the media that Trump admires—and no one knows better how to deal with fake news than the head coach of the Patriots.

Of course, first choice Tom Brady wants to keep his job with the Patriots. The FBI director receives a contract to play for ten years—and Tom expects to be around Gillette Stadium for at least a dozen more seasons.

Considering the problems of a Watergate type trouble that Trump may find himself, it would surely be good to find someone familiar with Spygate, Bountygate, and Deflategate, to head the FBI job.

That leads us to the unfortunate conclusion that the best man for the job could be Roger Goodell. We don’t know if he wears dresses in his spare time, but we won’t bet against it.

Trump should nominate Goodell for the post. He can keep Belichick on ice until the head of the CIA job opens up.

 

 

 

Clinton Supporters Blackball Their Friends Post-Election

DATELINE:  Unpleasant Discovery

batman-versus-superwoman

Thanksgiving is over, but not the political brawls.

Though many wanted to avoid politics during the traditional dinner, it was truly unnecessary. Offended parties likely avoided breaking bread with the newly minted, newly hated enemy: Victors of the Trump campaign.

We found that this number of indignant and raging sore losers were all Clinton supporters. They demonized anyone who voted for Trump as a racist, homophobe, and misogynist. This turn of events only occurred after the votes were counted.

They were prepared to continue to be your hypocritical friend if Clinton had won—and gloat over your support for Trump.

If Hillary had won, they might have been more tolerant.

Friends of long-standing now have unfriended Trump supporters and blocked their calls.  If you had exchanged birthday cards for decades, or helped a friend through a crisis or two, you now learned that your vote for Trump made you anathema. Excommunicated.

It is certainly bracing to learn that people you liked and trusted for years really harbored a contempt for your politics that they could no longer forgive.

Not everyone who voted for Trump is racist, but Clinton supporters have broadened the definition to include anyone who didn’t agree with Hillary.

We find it interesting that the people who decried hate and haters turn out to be the worst offenders.

If you expect to call your former friends and Trump supporters with an apology, it may not work this time. And if you expect your quondam friends to recant their votes, that too is unlikely.

Perhaps it is indeed a time for giving thanks for finding out who your true friends are. Life teaches many unpleasant lessons and is patently unfair often—but finding out those you believed to be your friends are miserable and unfaithful is definitely a shocker.

A Bridge Too Far to Play

DATELINE:  Gamblers Anonymous

Our Bridge Team Under Fire!

As an avid bridge player, you have to worry about the latest crackdown. The card game is now bridge over troubled waters.

Senior citizens in Thailand were arrested for being dummies.

The actual suspected crime is gambling, but the oldsters were arrested for having illegal playing cards. Perhaps it was the deck with pictures of Playboy bunnies—or some other sexual deviance well known to Thailand.

Bridge is best played nowadays with a computer that holds all three hands—and surrenders to you when it is your partner as dummy. We suspect Roger Clemens, A-Rod, and Barry Bonds all play bridge.

We have found that computers cheat at bridge. And, everyone knows that computers are programmed by cheating human beings. Machines come naturally into the world as innocents (sort of like playing cards). It is the environment that corrupts games and cards.

Just ask the skilled experts who guess winners of the NFL each week on  FanDuel or DraftKings. The corruption quotient is creeping in from the coasts. Hawaii is now joining New York in banning these games of corrupt chance.

We never thought you could make millions playing bridge.  Now that the word is out, we expect more young people under age forty will buy a deck of cards and build their empire.

We have decided to cancel any notion of a trip to Thailand. It joins Hawaii and New York as places that are kill-joys when it comes to get rich quick schemes.

Was Bernie Madoff a bridge player? We wouldn’t be surprised.

Greasing the Skids, or Billionaire Acres

DATELINE: Money Talks

Once again we have received anonymous emails disparaging us for not showing enough respect to billionaires. We have to genuflect apparently when the names of Bill Gates or the Koch Brothers are mentioned.

We have had our conservative Goldwater roots questioned for not appreciating the men who have a cadre of lawyers to prevent them from paying too much tax.

Among those we have bitten in our rattlesnake mode, we list many sports billionaires—the new playboys of the Western world. How could we not like Patriots owner Robert ‘Don’t call me Krafty’ Kraft. Here is a man who kisses his players upon greeting, yes, literally, and they must kiss his cheek. No, the other one.

We have too often mocked John Henry as King John Henry VIII with his penchant for playing the Red Queen and offing the heads of those who speak evil.  We have been banned from Red Sox sites across the globe, lest he learn the snake in the Fenway grass, is slithering around.

We have dunned Mark Cuban, an arrogant public figure who pretends he is just like you or me. He isn’t. On this you can trust us.

We have castigated the footmen and under-butlers of the wealthy, like Roger Goodell. It is not some green-eyed monster that motivates us, but simply we cannot deny ourselves a big target that uses its privilege to be a mob variation of an under-boss.

You’d think we supported Bernie Sanders who also has made a stump speech out of singling out the super-rich. No, we think more of Donald Trump who blatantly throws his money in your face in every speech.

Billionaires, you gotta love’em. We can’t avoid avoid them.

Texan Two-Step to Avoid Third Defeat?

 DATELINE:  The End is Near!

At long last Tom Brady has deferred to our judgment.

Yes, in an interview this week, he said he did not dwell on scenarios for the playoffs—and left that sort of thing to the bloggers.

We have taken the easy way out by suggesting the Patriots will not make the playoffs this season. Like a bird with a broken wing, the Patsies face carnivores in the NFL who are ready to turn the ultimate predator into the juicy leavings of a good meal.

How nice of Tom to think of his blogging army at this time! He also thought the Patriots will have hands full just trying to stave off Texan Coach Bill O’Brien’s vengeance game. Tom’s former offensive coordinator and nemesis clashed on occasion when they worked together under Belichick a few short years ago.

O’Brien only shares a footnote with McDaniels as one of Tom Brady’s list of handlers. Where is Charlie Weis when you need him?

This is a new Brady, freshly pressed from his Botox treatments and directed by a rage you only see in movies like Death Wish.

Tom also expressed a hope that Gronk would return from injury “sooner than later.”  Ah, a man of understated hope and of realistic dreams, too. Yes, we think he wants Gronk back last week, if not sooner.

Without a half dozen of his coterie, Brady is limping along like those movie heroes who lose half their platoon during an impossible effort to recapture glory on a suicide mission.

Tom likely wishes he had his pal Donald Trump’s hubris—a galling confidence that makes him fly in the face of all odds. Tom is more realistic and has less money in the bank to mollify his sense of self-importance.

The eyes of Texas will be upon him—at least, the eyes of Texan pass rushers.

 

New England Patriots Stuck in a Time Warp

DATELINE:  Sports Humor

 

 

 Has the Grinch stolen the Patriots Super Bowl 50?

Roger Goodell is smiling ear-to-ear this week.

For the better part of 17 years, fans of football have thought Bill Belichick was the Grinch, but now he is clearly off the hook. Scrooge, yes. Grinch, no.

We suppose that Cam Newton is wearing his Grinch outfit this year, pretender to the throne. If you want a throwback to Tom Brady a decade ago, Cam Newton is your clone. Send in the clones.

Apparently Tom Brady has used up his three wishes—and now the evil sorcerer Roger Goodell is about to drop a house on the Patriots candidate for the Ponce de Leon Award.

Watching the Patriots lose a second game in a row has been like trying to finish a 2000-piece jigsaw puzzle, only to discover a key piece in dead center is missing.

The genie in the bottle has popped out, if not pooped out, and stolen Tom’s magical flying carpet.

Some smart-aleck trolls on the Internet have taken to saying that it’s time for the Patriots to start cheating again. On our part we have never considered using the supernatural to win the Super Bowl to be anything but a quantum physics.

However, it’s beginning to look like Sergeant Pepper’s Band has abandoned the Patriots just as the Magical Mystery Tour is about to commence.

If, as Bill Belichick has often said, December is when the real season begins, the Patriots have reverse engineered 2015. Belichick’s Delororean has four flat tires and an ejection seat that hits the door on the way out

You begin to wonder if Roger Goodell exposed Tom Brady to the Hope Diamond.

 

 

Bad Day at Foxboro as Patriots Self-Destruct

DATELINE: Crash Dummies Wanted

 

The Patriots outsmarted themselves on this Sunday against the Eagles. You cannot give credit to a better team. You can dun the Pats for not buttering their betterment.

It was a home game, nearly a sure thing, a lock, an invictus victory.

Oh, stop with the high brow explanation of low brow losing. Latin words are for erudite poets, not losing NFL teams.

However, since the injury curse has decimated the recipients of Brady’s Xmas card list and touchdown passes, you may honestly wonder how low the top dog can stink up the home stadium.

When you think you are a great team, bad things will inevitably bring sobriety. The Philadelphia Eagles played flawed football with tons of yellow flags—but the Patriots were flawless, losing the game truly on their own demerits. You cannot blame the referees for this fiasco.

The Patriots tried a trick punt, and it backfired, giving the Eagles good enough field position to score. Then, a punt was blocked upon Ryan Allen (first time since 2009), and then Brady tossed an interception, killing a drive. After that, the game became a blur.

You cannot blame city hall, nor Roger Goodell, for this stinkeroo.

Has the probability of winning done made a pendulum shift? Are we now heading in the other direction? Will we hit bottom, or is the fall bottomless?

It seems unlikely the Patriots could lose six straight and end up with a 10-6 record.  Would they even be eligible for a wild card—in such a tale of horror?

Two losses in a row cannot be mollified by bad luck hitting your rivals. The quality of Patsie play left some fans in a boohoo mood, and cameras showed a visibly exasperated Belichick.

A chant came to mind: “Come back, Gronk!  Come back!”

Eagle-Eyed Patriots To Avoid Bird Droppings

 

DATELINE: Bye Bye Birdie

 

Already we want to forget the Eagles. Don’t ask us to overlook them too. Birds of prey in need of prayers are always dangerous. Not since Mel Brooks was hit by the birds with scatological targeted antics will we see such a bird mess of a game.

Your standard city of brotherly lovers with the Philadelphia Eagles and their controversial Chip off the Old Block Head coach will next take a swipe at Tom Brady.

We cannot tell which way the wind will blow on this game. The NFL has recently re-assigned their worst referee team to do the game. Watch out for funnel clouds and foggy calls. Whistle-gate is apt to have a part two during this game.

Chip is a chump, hardly a champ, and reportedly has lost control of his team (if ever he had control). Didn’t black players on the Eagles whisper he held white supremacist ideas? Now they quit on him in mid-games. If you believe that Chip is a great coach, you probably leave chewing gum on your bedpost.

Gronk likely won’t appear in this lamebrain zebra/ref extravaganza. So, the fixers will be hard pressed to call Offensive Pass Interference—unless it is on cable-TV reception. OPI is not Ron Howard’s old TV role.

Jamie Collins will apparently return from the dead, raised by Coach Belichick after a cure of Bubonic Plague was found in Foxboro. After Belichick casts out Jamie’s demons, you know intravenous fluids will bring Collins back up to snuff.

Danny Amendola may have said, “Amen,” after genuflecting to the God of Knee Sprains. Let’s hope he offered a novena for Gronk.

Dry cleaning bills on Brady’s white pants have increased sharply in recent weeks—and the offensive line had to pick up the tab after picking up the quarterback.

Peyton’s Place For Sale

DATELINE: In Absentia

 

How the mighty hath fallen. Especially his arches. With plantar fasciitis, Peyton Manning has trouble playing footsie, let alone football. Is this the end of Peyton’s ownership of the NFL?

Like another great quarterback that Manning just passed in the stats game, the redoubtable Brett Favre, Peyton may have overstayed his welcome at the Big Show.

Now with NFL network at odds over its marquee game of the week in the proverbial hopper, they no longer have their hero—Peyton—to dispatch the evil Brady.

Well, the NFL is not known for its moral choices.

We are happy that the Goodell bush league will lose a ton of money on this game—and they don’t even play BoyKings or FanDrool. The cash cow is now chopped liver. A Manning-Brady matchup is about as much fun as watching Republican non-entities Huckabee debate Jindal.

Brady is the last of the greats still standing. The NFL’s best laid plans of having Louise Brees, Duck Rodgers, and Kit Carson, considered the best in QB ranks is now a dead fish.

The man the NFL wants to most destroy is the last QB standing in the pocket, leaving Goodell likely to put a bountygate out on the Patriots.

The Commissioner tried to spygate and deflategate, but his gates are off hinges and croaking like the Tin Man.

And the youngsters like Luck, Kaepernick, and Manziel, are catastrophes of inconsistencies. What can a Commissioner do when his profit plans go awry? We recommend he resign—and fire the underlings.

Remember Whistle-gate!

 

Sing Along with BB (Music Man Belichick)

DATELINE: with a Capital D

Patriot Receivers

 

There’s trouble in Foxboro City with a capital T.

There’s no protection for Brady, which starts with a ‘p’

And ends with a sack.

We’ve surely got trouble, as our old pal the Music Man used to tell us.

Friends, the injured is receiver is the opponent’s playmaker. Yep, we got trouble right here in Bradyland.

Watch for the tell-tale sign of a rushed passer. The moment the ball leaves his hand, does Brady end up in a heap under two men?

Is there a nicotine stain on his white pants? Is there a playbook lost in the turkey stuffing?  Has Brady stopped memorizing the names of his O-line, or does he call them all “Rex Ryan”?

We can only hope that Tom remembers the Maine, the Alamo, Plymouth Rock, and the Golden Rule!

Are certain new words creeping into his vocabulary, like “Help!” and “Swell!” Mothers of Patriot Fandom, keep your sons from losing their shirts at betting sites like FanDooDoo. Oh, we got trouble.

Friends, fantasy football is Goodell’s playground.

If so, there is Trouble in Josh McDaniel’s play calling with a capital T.

That game with inflated balls is in Goodell’s playground.

Oh, we got trouble, trouble, trouble. Gotta rhyme it with D. And that stands for Denver where they give BB plenty of T.

We’ve lost E, which stands for Edelman, N which stands for Nate, and now A, which stands for Amendola.  And we can’t buy a vowel. We can only pray that G will give D plenty T.

G stands for Gronk in this formula.