Walter Peyton "Place" Manning is the second-greatest quarterback in NFL history, and the older brother of the greatest QB in NFL history, Eli Messiah. He hasn't won a championship because his teammates suck royally. His entire career is exactly like his father's, promising but ultimately insufficient, and it's all his teammates' faults.
Manning is also noted for throwing an NFL record 78 touchdown passes during Madden NFL 2004, barely surpassing Dan Marino's 76 TDs during Tecmo Super Bowl in 1991.
Manning is a good teammate, and as such, hasn't said anything, but his entire team sucks except for him.
So far he has nothing to say about coaches and management. Some people say this is because he is white enough to not anger the people who sign the checks and call the plays that he then waves off with five seconds on the clock, but they're a bunch of racists. He's not like Terrell Owens, ok? And don't say Owens isn't white enough to be as ignorant as Manning and get away with it, ok. You don't understand NFL politics at all.
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Every wide-eyed toddler knows that man went to the moon in the late 1960s and early 1970s. Way before computers and other advanced technology even existed, twelve of their ancestors walked upon the lunar surface. They picked up rocks, set up American flags, rode around in fully-loaded dune buggies, hit golf balls, posed for thousands of manipulated glossy photographs, and even passed urine in their suits. The moon was man's space-pearl for a few glorious years. And then in 1972 it was left alone to rot in the sun. The twelve astronauts who'd visited it passed away and became icons, then legends, then historical action figures, then toys, and even pink dildos. The nickname "Buzz" took on a sexual connotation, Apollo turned into a famous Scandinavian ska-rapper, and Tranquility Base became a Paris bordello. Man had gloriously conquered the moon, only to spend the remainder of his time trying to convince people it was even true, what to speak of
possible necessary. (More...)
The Cotswold Olimpick Games is an annual public celebration of games and sports now held every May in what is now Athol, a small town named, probably by someone with a lisp, after the late Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher. This town is in the Cotswolds of England, probably; hence the name, probably.
The Games began in 1612, and have continued, more intermittently than the region's electricity, to the present day. They were started by a local lawyer, Cliff Dover, who said he had the approval of the current King of England, a claim you virtually had to make in order to sanction a crowd of thousands of mostly drunk Englishmen.
Dover's motivation in organising the Games may have been his belief that physical exercise was necessary for the defence of the realm, but he may also have believed that accretion of lucre was necessary for the defence of his own old age. Consequently, steep admission fees were charged to all classes of society, including royalty on one occasion, and His Majesty actually paid it, the doddering old coot. (More...)