Know what sucks? When you’ve got about ten unpublished blog posts sitting there in the queue, and you can’t figure out how to flesh them out and get them finished. And they just sit there. You go back and try to get one finished, and by the time you give up, you’ve deleted more than you’ve added. Shit.

I’ve got one bitchin’ cold right at the moment, so I didn’t have a whole lot going on yesterday. (Temporarily) gave up on trying to find inspiration for the next installment of the draft preview, so I decided to go ahead and upgrade myself to WordPress 2.5. Don’t see anything different? That’s how you know it worked, rather than turning into a huge pain in my ass. There’s not a whole lot in this world that’s more satisfying than averting ass pain.

So since I seem to be having so much trouble inspiring myself to write about anything interesting, I figure I’ll pass a little time geeking out with my blogging compadres (assuming, of course, that you’re not one of those Typepad chumps.) Continue Reading…

The 2008 NFL draft is roughly a month away, and I don’t know about you, but I already have my miniature pennant with "Yay, Personnel Acquisition!" silkscreened on it sitting on the coffee table and ready to go.

Meantime, we here at moosedenied are proud to remind you yet again that… well.. quite frankly, we’re big shots. We know people, we hear things. We share with Lou Dobbs an affinity for $250 ties, not once has Aaron Brooks ever screened us straight to voice mail, and we have a standing biweekly date to split an 18 inch Chicago Deep Dish with Dulymus and other various notables.

That being the case, we’ve received some rock-solid inside infomation about what we Saints fans should be expecting to go down with regard to our team during draft weekend. We’ve been holding off on reporting this information until we could confirm it with another inside source. Just this morning we received that confirmation, and so we’re ready to go public with what we’ve heard. This is the kind of stuff you just can’t get from esteemed legitimate media sources like Pete Finney or Kenny Wilkerson. Hell, Ed Staton won’t even copy and paste it and imply that he wrote it. But we’re pretty sure you can take this to the bank… Continue Reading…

Well, apparently the Saints signed themselves a backup quarterback yesterday, reportedly agreeing to terms with Mark Brunell. And you have to figure that everybody’s favorite Mozart-lovin’ third stringer probably woke up this morning entweder sehr glücklich oder sehr angepisst.

That’s Brunell on the right, by the way. That last year in DC messed him up pretty good. Then again, a year in DC tends to do that to a lot of guys.

Oh sure, we could spend the next several paragraphs analyzing all the pros and cons of what Brunell brings to the Saints, and how he compares to Jamie Martin. But let’s not bore the shit out of ourselves, m’kay?

He’s seven months younger than Martin, is roughly the same height and weight, and just like Martin, he completed zero passes for zero yards, zero touchdowns and zero interceptions last year. Brunell is slightly more of a threat to beat you with his feet, having rushed for 3 more yards last year than Martin’s -3. So he’s got that going for him. Which is nice. Continue Reading…

So here’s something you might not have realized. Did you know that last year the Saints were 11th in the NFL in receiving yards from the tight end position?

Six of the ten teams ahead of the Saints got (basically) all of that TE production from a single guy. A single guy who who eats up a big chunk of their payroll. A guy who’s just as likely to get injured as anybody else in the league.

Meantime, the Saints appear to be headed into 2008 rolling once again with the two-headed monster of Billy Miller and the big fat sack of Yale. This is a good thing. One of the more prudent moves of the offseason so far, in my opinion.

The natural fan tendency is to want an alpha male at any given position. An all pro. Or, at the very least, a young stud who we can convince ourselves will eventually be an all pro. Especially when there are players available who fit either description. To most fans, "adequate" simply isn’t good enough. But the thing about that line of thought is… it’s bullshit. Continue Reading…

*BUMPED FROM 7/27/07*

Steve Gleason, we hardly knew ye. We were well aware of your hair. But ye? Not so much.

What we do know is that you’re a badass. A cult hero. A fan-favorite. By all accounts, a genuine good guy who has given his blood, sweat and tears for our New Orleans Saints every single day of the six years you’ve been here. And as far as we know, not once have you ever maimed a dog for your personal pleasure and financial gain.

We’ve heard that you’re a pretty strange cat, and we say that in the most complimentary way possible. A dude who does his own thing, and is in love with life. A damn fine American. All that good shit.

The Saints put you on injured reserve yesterday, and we’d just like you to know that we think that’s a damn shame. A damn shame. I once asked God why bad things happen to good people, but he never got back to me. I’m pretty sure my correspondence got eaten by his spam filter. Stupid fucking AOL. Continue Reading…

[xspf]_start(ArloLoop, ‘autostart=false&mode=2&width=177&height=15′)[/xspf]

I originally ripped this song off from Arlo Guthrie way back in 2001, and I’ve been singin’ it for seven long years now. It’s called Loomis’s Restaurant, and it’s about a friend of mine, Mickey Loomis, but Mickey doesn’t own the restaurant, and there’s not really even a restaurant in the song at all. 

If you’ve ever heard me sing this song before… you’re gonna have to explain to me later why you was within earshot of my shower. But in the meantime if you’ve heard the song before you already know that while there’s not a restaurant in the song, Mickey is in the song, and there’s also a massacree.

Back in 2001, the song told the story of the Loomis’s Restaurant Bye Week Massacree, which, oddly enough, went down during the 2001 bye week. But sometime last year I went ahead and decided to update the song to tell the story of a whole separate, distinct, non-consecutive massacree.

Shit, I really need to stop hanging out with Mickey. Continue Reading…

A long, long, long, long time ago, back before 99% of the American population just up and decided it was much cooler to spell "grey" the hip European wey, there was Erin Gray (with an A, jackass, you’re not from Vienna, you’re from Kentucky for crying out loud.) Otherwise known as Wilma Deering. I’ll pause for a second while you take in the pic, and maybe do a quick Google Image Search.

Now that we red-blooded American male Saints fans have been doomed to at least one (probably several) years of tired-ass, not-clever, not-funny, broken-record Wilma references spewing forth incessantly from the ever-expanding jowls of Chris Berman, I just figured I’d provide an alternative object of those references on which your mind can land for those brief moments. One that is far more pleasant than that chick from the vitamins. You’re welcome.

Leave it to internet Saints fans to respond to the news of the Saints finally acquiring a legitimate stud at middle linebacker by frantically grasping at straws for reasons to continue to bitch and moan. And really, what other reaction could have reasonably been expected? If you expected anything else, clearly you don’t pay close enough attention to the message boards. You magnificent bastard! Teach me how to do that, please, I beg you.

Continue Reading…