Well, it’s the end of the day and I’m so very sad. Because it’s been such a pleasure to wallow in the misery of the Patriots and their fans. Seriously. You people earned it. You got

ed. I’m so very, very pleased for your loss.
And so, to close out this historic day of hateration, we dole out a final round of hearty and oh-so-sincere

YOUS to the Patriots and everyone associated with them.
Yes,

YOU, Bob Kraft. Model franchise, my ass. Why don’t you go have a glass of water to clear out the frog that’s been in your throat for the past 60

ing years.

YOU to Bill Belichick. You know what’s even nicer than that fact you lost, you

ing shit stain? The fact that you might also
lose your
ing job. Isn’t that lovely? Not only did you lose a game, but you also stand to lose your livelihood, your reputation, and your legacy. I, for one, am extremely excited for you to grow a beard, move to Iceland, and become an anti-semite. Cockbag.

YOU to the Patriots fans out there. “This one hurts!” “This one stings!” Awww, you poor things! You had to suffer through ONE loss all year! Oh no! HERE COMES THE RAIN AGAIN! You may never recover! If only I could do something to console you. Oh, I know.
/whips out dick
Choke on it.

YOU, as always, to Bill Simmons. Here, I rewrote your article today so that it was even closer to your own voice:
“When the final seconds ticked down on Super Bowl XLII, I and presumably the rest of Boston had but one thought: REGGIE LEWIS.”
Suck it. No Tom Brady soiree for you, dipshit. Just an awkward conversation with Ufford and big helping of shut the

up.

YOU to Patriot players who invited Giant players to their celebration parties AS THEY WERE GETTING THEIR ASSES HANDED TO THEM DURING THE GAME. Well done, jackasses. No egos in that locker room!