While our comments section can get highly political at times, we here at DFO generally try not to do political posts. We're here for football and other, lesser, sports, dick jokes, and soft-core porn. Politics, other than that it involves people getting fucked, does not fit that vibe. Today is,
Diego Maradona, one of the greatest players of the game we know as Lesser Footy, that Americans call soccer, and that the rest of the world, civilized and English, (are they even human?), just call football, as well as one of the greatest characters of humanity, passed away on 11/25/20.
Man, what did we do last night? Everything hurts. That is the last time I drink like that.
What the hell? What happened in here? Looks like the guys came over and trashed the place. For like the 32nd time this year. I've got to stop having them over, maybe
HA! Gotcha, fuckers! This isn't some hihg-quality HRTN production this is Horatio, stamping my tiny feet and bitching about the 2020 Cowboys. And you walked right into it. Ah well, may as well put your feet up and stay in the clubhouse for a while. Just toss those Jim Belushi
I intended to praise Jerry Jones for his work in this year's draft, albeit work that he undoubtedly had a lot of help with while working the phones from his supervillain yacht. And he did deserve that praise; while it's foolish to grade drafts in their immediate aftermath, based on
Last year I agreed to do the Chiefs preview, since apparently none of us here in the clubhouse root for the Chiefs, other than in the so far vain hope that Chiefs success will lure Otto back into the fold from whatever witness protection program he wandered into after failing
There are definitely people here who knew Seamus better than I did. People who knew him in real life for instance. One of my big regrets in life, other than law school, is not having attended any DFOCons, where I would have met tWBS, as I understand he never missed
Greetings, fellow shut-ins. We like to use the term 'shut-ins' around here to mock our propensity for staying indoors on our various devices while talking about football, lesser football, boobs, butts, and why Trump sucks, but in truth these days we are all, with the rest of the world, literal
This year's NFL draft runs from April 23-25 and will be a somewhat more subdued ceremony than in recent years, in that teams will be drafting remotely. It'll still be on TV, (I assume; I mean ESPN has got to show something besides old Michael Jordan games, right?), and we'll
A plague had long devastated the country. No pestilence had ever been so fatal, (except for pretty much all them that had come before), or so hideous, (although actually leprosy, bubonic plagues, and most hemorrhagic fevers were probably more hideous), or so subject to a 24/7 media addicted to ratings
Scene: The DFO Clubhouse
Time: 9:43 am.
Horatio gets out of his car, a red Corvette if past stories are to be believed, (they should not), staggering under the weight of a dozen boxes. His hands thus occupied, Horatio uses his as-believable-as-that-Corvette martial arts skills to kick open the door without leaving
It was a Wednesday. Or maybe a Thursday. When you reach my age they all pretty much run together until the weekend, and then those days go by faster than anything your prostate has a say in and you're back in the workweek before you know it. No, all I