What Went Wrong

Hey Shula, it is time to play. Call Peyton TODAY and explain what happened at the BigBrothers BigSisters Silent Auction in the Marriot Ballroom that day. That was eight bottles of wine for which I had to pay. You are all fuckin psycho, but I kept the divinity of the NFL anyway. I met the big three (tunnel through QB's), and got them to sheepishly verbalize to me. They weren't Pete, so what was there to celebrate. Your industry did us wrong, as a family, that day. Well the little helmet was for a HEADSHRINKER and he now wears that sundae helmet on his voodoo cranium. Quantum funny when on LSD, never again. I work intutively, knowing not the danger and who is stranger. Goodell was backstage. ILLEGAL, flag on the play. I have had it. Even POPE BENEDICT got into that RCA dome down the street. Look at the papal registry the day I walked into the catholic way across the street. You can play this way, but I think that there is a back away today, family. Your lies are more than pergury. It is best to stay away from ecstacy. I have intersected with the intersections. These are the MORE POWERFUL underlings that make you all able to BELIEVE you can play. Of late, I am exhausted, but the power to pull off a win is starting to be more evident and elegant. Pros need to stay away. I work better all by myself. I am trying to build a road to Denver, but that is not today. I left the best for last so that I would not have white male pro atheletes call me a whore, get me charged for prostitution or worse, or just talk smack behind my back. These things are true of all of yee, but not me. Stop it and guard my chastidy, I firmly have my sobriety.