I find it very hard to believe that Peyton Manning has fans. He can throw a dead pig to his blockhead homeboys and despite the fact I love Football more than my wife, that is a very fucking nugatory talent. I hate splitting hairs, but the point I’m trying to make is that this witless penisface crybaby needs to get the fuck out of my television. Take some lessons in tact from Sir Tom Brady, and stop using your “talent” to sell me stupid fucking credit card and cell phone bullshit. Watch this commercial:
Payton Manning at his most invidious worst.

He’s a fucking tool who thinks he’s better than the team he plays for. Yeah, fuck you, he wants the money, its what he plays football for, yeah, fuck you. He’s an athlete. He’s no scholar, he’s no sage, and most importantly, he’s not the person winning games for the Colts. Is it his father’s legacy that created a figurehead pair of shoes for him, or is it the fact he struggled and struggled and struggled and got really lucky in the playoffs last year? I can’t figure it out.

A football fan’s energy is unharnessable. It’s magical, and stalwart, and poetic. Why are so many people wasting such good feelings on a guy who knows he’s destined to disappoint? When you’re playing RPGs, do you throw all your skill points into luck? NO, YOU PUT YOUR FUCKING POINTS IN TOM BRADY. I mean strength. If he was the athlete people pretend he is, his career would pay him an amount of money worth trading your dignity for. Me, personally… I think he’s in all these commercials cause he’s taking what he can while people are still ignorant of the truth… making as much money in as short of an amount of time as possible… cause in two years, we’ll be saying, “That’s Peyton Manning, the man who single handedly taught me the isolating emptiness of disappointment.”

According to thesimon.com:

The first tear in Manning’s carefully constructed public image appeared all the way back in 1996 when Manning, then the quarterback for the University of Tennessee, was accused of pulling down his pants and shoving his ass in the face of Jamie Ann Naughright, then an assistant athletic trainer. According to court documents, Manning re-enacted the incident on a couple of occasions and called her a “bitch.”

If I so much as hear one more person say, “aw, I love Peyton Manning, he’s the greatest QB in history,” quote me in saying I will hit you in your glasses. And then, in succession, in their entireties, watch Indy play New England and San Diego. I know the sting of disappointment hurts, but the humiliation of supporting Peyton Manning’s career will make you feel worse. He’s a stiff human being who chokes every time he nervous. He blames his team, constantly, for his own failures, like when they lost to the Steelers in the playoffs to be knocked out a few years back. He blamed his defense, when he had more bad passes than a person should be allowed, on salary. He’s the asshole’s hero. Have you ever seen him smile? No, because he has nothing to be proud of or content with. His life is a giant countdown toward unemployment and lack of fulfillment. Oh, and he sexually harasses women.

Oh. And Vinateri got his ring last year, so he’s done kicking your shitty team field goals. Watch him move back to New England next season.

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