It’s about that time. Saints football is BACK, bitches! I don’t know about you, but I’ve had a week-long priapism, and I’m thinking of seeking medical attention.

This Sunday night, a whopping 20,000 people will squeeze into tiny little Fawcett Stadium in the shadow of the world’s largest juicer to watch the Saints take on Señor Fathead and the Pittsburgh Steelers for about 20 minutes or so.

Then they’ll watch a bunch of dudes with names like Sepulveda and Capizzi get yelled at from the sideline for another three hours while wondering how long before they can get the fuck out of Ohio. Sounds like a hell of an evening.

The rest of us will be sitting in front of a tee vee somewhere, so fucking geeked about Saints football being back that we’ll hardly notice Greg Gumbel making Wayne Brady look like Malcolm X whilst gingerly tiptoeing through those moments where his producer insists that he talk about anything even remotely related to football. We suffer for our Saints. That’s what makes us so badass.

Did you know that the above picture of Ben is the all-time most-viewed pic at Hot Chicks With Douchebags dot com? I’m not sure if that’s actually true, but if it isn’t, it should be. Feel free to amaze your family and friends with that little nugget of trivia. Nobody is going to challenge you on it.

Here’s our best shot at a list of things to watch out for and take note of Sunday night:

Will Smith and Charles Grant taking turns playing the role of a car windshield.

Anything Michael Irvin puts near his mouth, and whether there’s smoke rising from it.
Our sources in Hollywood tell us that Irvin has been cast for the role of “Pookie” in New Jack City II - Electric Boogaloo.

Curry Burns!
We’ve already trademarked the name for purposes of our chain of Indian restaurants, so fuck off, it’s ours.

Walter Thomas’ first step on the Road to Canton
It all starts here for Big Walt. Wait, did I say Canton? What I meant was a Cantonese buffet.

Mike Tomlin’s Puffy Afro

Najeh Davenport, and what he might shit on or in
If you don’t understand, I’m sorry. I just can’t bring myself to explain it.

The NFL Network’s Incessant Public Service Announcements
If that kid says “Find a way, every day. Jump. Run. Do!” one more fucking time, I swear somebody’s getting a screwdriver to the throat.

Jermon Bushrod!
Five bucks for every time his name is mentioned and you can keep yourself from giggling like a 12 year old.

Rhema McKnight’s Ego
Sean Payton told the rest of him to fuck right off yesterday, but I’ve heard that his ego is planning on making the trip anyway. It plans to give lip to Curtis Johnson for the weekend, and then stay behind in Canton to scope out where it wants its bust to be placed when it comes back for good.

Charlie Batch
You know, there are people in Pittsburgh who are so sick and damned tired of Señor Fathead that they actually want Tomlin to name Batch the starter? No, seriously. It’s true. And it’s not just idiots saying that. It’s actual smart people.

The Ghost of Bill Cowher’s Jaw
It’s got its own yellow blazer and everything. It’s going to make a speech at halftime, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it takes a Jason Fife INT back for six. It’s not that Fife sucks that badly (though that’s true too) it’s that Cowher’s jaw kicks just that much ass. ESPN told me that, so it must be true.

Aside from that, just try not to get too up or too down based on what you see. As Saints fans, we have to be “realists” here. We have to keep ourselves on an even keel. Keep in mind that there’s only one goal for us fans to work towards starting Sunday night, just one thing we have to focus on so that we’re ready to do our part when the regular season starts:

We have to get used to Coach Payton pulling his starters in the first half.

It begins, bitches!