November 4th. That is the last time the Carolina panthers have sunken their kitty claws into the sweet taste that is victory. Tonight, they gear up for a Monday night showdown against New Orleans, the number 1 team in the league. In short, the panthers stink and are a shipping sink with more holes than the Iraqi navy.
On paper, the saints are better. In reality, the Saint are 100 percent better. But I will tell you what, I am scared. Petrified these cardiac cats are actually going to win, which is literally the worst thing possible. That would put them in essentially a 3-way tie, not for the last wildcard spot but for the number 1 “in the hunt” spot. Essentially pointless. The redskins are 7-7 (have the tie breaker) those trash Eagles are now 7-7. The Vikings sit in the last wild card spot at 7-6-1 (thanks Greenbay) and only need to win 1 of their last 2 games to secure it, unless that is, the cats win out. I have a better shot of getting laid, winning the Powerball and eloping into Bruce Wayne all in one night than that scenario playing out. Beating the Saint twice in a span of three weeks is a Ludacris task too tall for a Panthers team that has evolved into Garfield, the lazy Monday hating cat these past 5 weeks.
There no hope for this team right now, this season is over. Let me lay a scenario out for you: The Cats swallow their pride, lose out, fire Rivera and end up with a top 10 draft pick: I’d be to the f***ng moon about that scenario. However, that’s not what is going to happen. The panthers will continue to take a shit on me by winning their next two games pulling to an 8-7 with just one game left, one win to snag that forbidden fruit that is the wildcard spot. Of course, they can do it!!??
The Panthers will finish 8-8, miss the wildcard by one game because that is what they do, ruin our lives. Rivera will somehow keep his job and we’ll draft an offensive lineman at pick number 17 because we’re still trying to replace the OT of our generation… Michael Oher aka “The Blind Side.”
Tonight’s Prediction: Panthers 24 Saints 17.
My blood pressure after this game 200/200
I hope for our draft pick and my mental health, we lose.
Bring on the fuggin tank.