Oh, you’ve gotta be shitting me. See, this is just my luck. I’ve had this game circled on my calendar for two months, TWO MONTHS(!!!), quivering in anticipation of the long-awaited Sex Cannon vs. Jason David showdown. An epic battle of wits and will. Dueling virtuosos showing no mercy. It was gonna be fuckin’ THUNDERDOME, I tells ya.

But noooo. Apparently the Houston Texans will have to find some way to get by without The Cumslinger’s considerable talents indefinitely, and the New Orleans Louisianians finally took Jason out behind the barn and did what had to be done. Son of a bitch. Now just how in the hell are we supposed to amuse ourselves Saturday night? Thank god for Joey Harrington. And Sean Payton’s challenge flag. Maybe Poochie will be tweeting some of that unintentional comedy gold from the sideline.

There’s nothing worse than a preseason game with so little juice, there’s not much better to do than to just sit there and pay attention. Paying too much attention is dangerous, because it leads inevitably to analysis. And then you end up saying crazy shit like "You know, I think Buck Ortega could be starter material." and "Think we could get a 3rd rounder for Rod Harper?" 

But you’ve gotta play the hand you’re dealt, and since hilarity is no longer sure to ensue, at least there are a handful of actual football issues to hold our interest.

At the top of that list is the situation at cornerback. Now that opposing quarterbacks won’t have Jason David to kick around anymore, and Jeff Duncan is pretty sure Malcolm Jenkins is pulling a Tracy Porter and has taken the nickel from Randall Gay, we’ll see if they can do a little better than the 73% completion percentage and 233 passing yards Carson Palmer and JT O’Sullivan put up last week. Guh.

Speaking of Porter, he’s supposed to be back in the starting lineup Saturday night. So, theoretically, we could catch the presumed regular season first string trio of Porter, Jabari Greer and Jenkins all together for at least a few series. That ought to be fun, at least for as long as Houston lets Matt Schaub play. Schaub was 7 for 7 last week, and it was raining. Do any of these guys even stand a chance against Andre Johnson? Fingers crossed. I’ll consider it a win if they can get through it without someone having to skip a series to put on a fresh pair of pants.

Meanwhile, for all Message Board Guy’s recent wailing and gnashing of teeth about the run defense, you’d never guess that the Saints only allowed 90 rushing yards at a 3.3 ypc clip. And 14 of those yards were on scrambles by the 3rd string quarterback.

Now, granted, it was Bernard Scott and Cedric Benson. And those two guys by themselves went for 4.14 ypc, which is practically equal to last year’s season average for the Saints’ run defense. And Jason David was on the field, which of course inevitably leads to the opposing OC not even bothering to run the ball. David’s presence won’t be an issue anymore (and I plan to point that out about a hundred more times, because it just makes me so damned happy.) So we’ll see how they hold up against Steve Slaton, Chris Brown and Ryan Moats.

It’ll also be interesting to see if the Saints’ defense can continue to produce takeaways. Houston had no giveaways last week. In the rain. With Dan Orlovsky and the Sex Cannon taking the majority of the snaps. That qualifies as a minor miracle.

Offensively, we still have no fucking clue whether or not this team can run the ball. The Saints put up 86 yards rushing last week at 2.9 yards per carry. That’s bad even by Saints standards.

Oh sure, Pierre Thomas only had 4 carries. But until we’re shown otherwise, isn’t that about the number of carries you’d expect? I didn’t say "hope for," I said "expect."

Meanwhile, Lynell Hamilton and Mike Bell are in a flat-footed tie in the race to be the first to literally fumble away his roster spot. Literally, because any minute now, Sean Payton is gonna start putting a piece of duct tape on the football with "YOUR FUCKING ROSTER SPOT!" written on it. Bell didn’t fumble last week. But that’s just because he didn’t play. All indications are that he won’t be so fortunate this week.

And then there’s our favorite jet-setting, supermodel-fucking playmaker of a weapon who makes plays and has totally figured out that he needs to pull a George Costanza and start doing the exact opposite of whatever his instinct tells him he probably oughta do. Brilliant! I wonder what it was that made the light bulb over his head turn on. Could it have been the 3 carries for 5 yards last week, with a long of…. all 5 yards? Does this newly-hatched strategery include staying inbounds until a defender is within a 3-yard radius?

Oh, settle down. I know it’s preseason, and Reggie’s still nursing a sore cock. Fortunately for him, all indications are that he’s once again hittin’ that. Realizing of course that "fortunately" is a matter of perspective. Specifically, his cock’s perspective. Then again, I suppose it’s possible that this is all part of the Costanza Gambit. I mean, a guy can only repeat to himself "Hit the hole!" so many times before the cock starts screaming "That’s what I’m talking about!"

There’s also the possibility that this is team-prescribed cock rehab. I mean, 3 carries for 5 yards and all. Way to take one for the team, Reg.

Kim, hey girl, this is Sean Payton. Long time, no talk. Look, Reggie doesn’t know I’m calling, but I just thought you should know. He’s heartbroken, Kim. He knows he fucked up, and he realizes now how much he needs you. If there’s any way you could just give him one more chance. If you could just see his face, dude’s choking back tears 24/7. He totally knows now that you’re meant to be together. We had Steve Perry at practice the other day, and Reggie totally lost it when he sang Separate Ways. Personally, I thought it was fucking badass, but that’s just me. And Morstead. Anyway, I’m just sayin’. I hate to see you two kids dancing around your real feelings like this. Reggie does enough dancing behind the line of scrimmage to begin with. But this isn’t about football, it’s about epic love. I don’t want to fill up your voice mail, so just Twitter me back and I’ll book you a flight down here asap, okay? If you’d rather drive, I’ve got a hookup for some Adderall if you need it. Peace out, girl. See ya soon.

So… uh… yeah. I figure Reggie’s good for a buck fifty Saturday night.

Your guess is as good as mine on the rushing yards. Hiyoooo!