Not like you, Brett. Asshole. For seventeen years, while I never really understood what all the fuss was about, I also never wished you any specific harm. Over the last few years, your slow, steady metamorphosis into a flighty, attention-whoring, bigger-than-Jesus, selfish prick hasn’t really bothered me. In fact, it’s been good for the occasional chuckle or two.

Then I went to bed last night thinking how fun it was going to be blogging today about how you were bringing your overrated, coach-killing, non-committed, holier-than-thou, malcontented ass down to the NFC South and proceed to singlehandedly blow up that circus of queers down in Tampa. How you were going to cost them a pick or two, undermine the hell out of whatever credibility Gruden had left in that locker room after he inevitably kicked Fabulous Jeff to the curb, half-ass your way to 7-9 and then retire again in January. For good this time. Unless of course Tampa really, really, really asked nicely. Or would let you go play for someone who did. Oh what fun that would have been.

But nooooo. I wake up this morning to find out that you’re headed to New York City instead. Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. Juuuuust lovely. Way to bring my world crashing down around me, Brett.

So now instead of blowing up the Bucs with your incessant asshattery, you’re just gonna blow up some team I haven’t given a crap about since the mid-80’s. And at the same time, you’re gonna be in one of the two cities ESPN covers, and in the same division with the team from the other city ESPN covers.

So just when we thought this all-encompassing media orgy might begin to fizzle out as you started pricing assisted living facilities down in south Florida, you’ve instead joined Brady, Payrod and Manny Big Papi to complete Bristol’s long-awaited Rhombus of Unending Torment. Oh Brett, what hell hath you wrought? They’ve already got the "Countdown to Favre-Brady I" graphic running down in the bottom right corner of the screen. And you’re going to be within driving distance of Peter King’s house too? Son of a…

Thanks a lot, Brett. I hate you and your stupid ass face. The Saints play the Cardinals tonight on ESPN, and I’ve already resigned myself to the fact that if I want to hear any accounts or analysis of what’s actually happening on the field, I’m gonna have to get it en español on ESPN Deportes in between fútbol scores.

If there’s a silver lining here, it’s that by all accounts, having to go to the Jets pisses you off even more than having to go to the Bucs would have. So at least there’s a little schadenfreude in it for me. Know what would be even better? How about you wait until they officially waive Pennington, and then retire rather than report? Come on, Brett. Do that and I’ll think about letting all this other shit slide.

I mean, clearly you weren’t above letting Green Bay draft about ten quarterbacks before up and deciding "Aw shucks, golly gee, I’m just an ole country boy who wants to play himself some football." Apparently you’ve decided to blow a bunch of shit up on your way out and leave a smoldering trail of scorched earth behind you, might as well go all the way with it.

The other silver lining is that you’ve made me a fan of Ted Thompson, Mike McCarthy and Aaron Rodgers. Good for them, for telling the Almighty Brett where he could stick it. I only wish they had been a little less classy about it.

This guy has been jerking us around for years. Every offseason he hems and haws about whether or not he’s coming back. But it’s gotten to the point where just telling him it’s his job and we still want him isn’t enough anymore. He wants to be begged to come back. Well screw that, I’m done kissing this guy’s ass every summer. And I can’t believe he’s got you all suckered into believing his down home country boy "I just want to play football" act. It’s bullshit. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have resisted any and all efforts to trade him to anyone but Minnesota or maybe Chicago. Brett doesn’t just want to play football, he wants to stick it to us because we’re not gonna kiss his ass anymore. And he thinks we ought to just let him, because he’s Brett Favre. Well, suck it, Brett. How about that?

It amazes me that there are so many people out there still fawning over this douche.

Bleeding Heart Message Board Fanboy has been asking "If Drew Brees were to end up having a Favre-like run with the Saints, and then at the end of his career did the same thing Brett’s doing, wouldn’t you still be his fan and hope that he got what he wanted?" My answer is no. I could let Drew pass on waffling over retirement… one time. I understand it’s a hard decision. I understand that many recently-retired athletes end up with a gaping void in their souls, and they’ve just gotta come back for one more go. In my opinion, you get to do that once. Not four or five times. And you absolutely, positively do not get to demand that the team release you out of "respect" so that you can go play for a division rival.

Fortunately for us, that will never happen. Drew Brees be not schmuck, be not obnoxious, be not bellbottom bummer or asshole. Drew remembers the story of Pablo Picasso. He walks down your street, girls cannot resist his stare. Drew Brees will never get called an asshole.

Not like you.

It’s (meaningless exhibition) gameday, bitches! If you manage to make it all the way through the Tyler Palko/Todd Blythe/Buck Ortega show and find yourself jonesing for some postgame action where the analysis is slightly more coherent and the speech slightly less slurred than the WWL alternative, tune into Ralph’s Forecast Radio Podcast with Kevin Held. Sometime around 10:30 Central, I’m assuming give or take a little while pending the length of the game. Seriously. I only pimp it because I listen to it and enjoy it.

With any luck, back tomorrow with postgame mockery and baseless cries of impending DOOOOOOM!!!! Oh, the next 5+ months are going to be big, big fun. You’re excited?!? Feel these nipples!