How the hell did Brady find the time?

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By now everyone knows that the Commish has upheld Tom Brady’s four game suspension for his role in DeflateGate. The shocking part of the story was that shortly before the decision was publicly announced, ESPN’s Stephen A. Smith scooped everyone by stating that he “heard” from somebody that Tom Brady had destroyed his phone, the device that supposedly has evidence that Brady was complicit in the illegal tampering of game balls.

It’s shocking because the scoop came from Stephen A. Smith. My goodness, Skip Bayless must be green with envy.

But I digress. Destroying your phone on the same day that you’re asked to provide specific evidence from that device just reeks of desperation. Total panic move. Sheer heart attack.

Here’s the part on the decision that is a little hard to wrap my head around: “During the four months that the cell phone was in use, Brady had exchanged nearly 10,000 text messages, none of which can now be retrieved from that device.

Tom Brady was busy practicing/playing football every week during those four months, plus he had to make time for media interviews, attend public appearances, satisfy a supermodel wife, and feed the piranhas in his moat every day. How the hell did he find time to exchange ten THOUSAND text messages during those four months?

And if you’re looking for Stephen A. Smith, he’s currently sitting in a lounge chair next to the ESPN corporate pool, sipping on his third white wine spritzer. The palms of his hands are probably sore from all of those high-fives. He’s getting laid tonight!

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You can help yourself…or not

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Tom Brady apparently chose “not” during his appeal with the Commish yesterday for that whole DeflateGate thing.

The Ted Wells report made it pretty clear that Tom Terrific was asked to provide only specific data from his phone, and it would be on the Honor System. It’s not like Wells wanted to dig through Brady’s phone looking for neked pics of Giselle (because honestly, who wants to see a neked toothpick, amiright?).

Brady could have provided that phone info yesterday in his marathon meeting with the Commish, but apparently did not think that was necessary because all he was going to do was attack the Wells report and the science behind it, and deny knowing anything.

Which, when you think about it, providing your phone data to back up your denials probably would help your case, right? Unless that phone data would instead screw you over beyond reasonable doubt, in which case we can conclude that Brady has an impressive pair.

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Instead of executing Tsarnaev, bunk him up with Hernandez

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Slightly off topic, but do you remember that little rat bastard who killed or maimed a bunch of people at the Boston Marathon awhile ago? The scumfucker who was lovingly and delicately raised by his card-carrying ISIS-mama? Like Hernandez, he was also found guilty on all counts this week.

Today the family of the eight-year-old boy who was standing next to one of Tsarnaev’s bombs has asked prosecutors to take execution off the table, and make Tsarnaev serve life without parole instead.

I wholeheartedly agree with this, and I’ll tell you why:

With the death penalty, Tsarnaev would know when he will die. He will know how he will die. He will know who will kill him. It will be a painless death. And he can keep postponing it with appeal after appeal.

With a life sentence, Tsarnaev would have no idea when he will die. He won’t know how it will happen. He won’t know who will do it. It will likely be excruciatingly painful. And he has no ability to stop it from happening.

It would be a short-lived life sentence.

He would live in constant fear until that fateful day comes. It would be a brutal end for this little fucktard. And most likely, the prison officials will find no evidence linking any other convict with his, um…unfortunate demise. And we all know that prison officials are saints and angels, so they certainly wouldn’t be considered as suspects, wink-wink, nudge-nudge.

So hey, Boston…how about just having Tsarnaev bunk with Hernandez? It would be a token redemption for Aaron if you would do that for him. He could even make a game out of it for the 2015 season, simply beating Tsarnaev within an inch of his life each time Hernandez hears the roar of the stadium crowd during a touchdown. TIA, love you guys, Boston Strong!

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That’s GUILTY! Guilty, guilty, guilty!

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The man who recently signed a 40 million dollar contract with the Patriots will now spend well over 40 years of his life rotting in a prison cell. Aaron Hernandez was found guilty and sentenced to LIFE without parole.

Perhaps some day his cell mate would be Lawrence Phillips, because they really seem to be a lot alike each other. But it’s not likely, since their home addresses are on opposite coasts.

In fact, Hernandez’s new home is literally a short jog away from the Patriots’ stadium. He’ll probably see fans dressed in Patriots jerseys parking their cars in the “cheap lots” near the prison and walking toward the stadium from his cell window on game days. And he’ll easily hear it whenever the Patriots score a touchdown.

So eight to ten times a year, Hernandez gets to be reminded by the roar of the crowd about his other life, the life he threw away when he took another’s life.

For the rest of his life.

I’m good with that.

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They shared a passion, a passion for…marijuana!

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Aaron Hernandez’s lawyers made their closing arguments today in the murder trial of Odin Lloyd. It was, um…unusual.

First of all, we found out today that Hernandez witnessed the murder. Wow, nobody saw that one coming. And watching someone plug six bullets into Lloyd put Hernandez into a state of shock and he didn’t know what to do…so he drove the murderer to his house, brought the murderer inside his house where his baby was sleeping, destroyed his home surveillance system, didn’t call the cops, and didn’t tell them who did it when being questioned the next day. Sounds reasonable.

Another new piece of info we didn’t know before today: Hernandez’s lawyers said he and Lloyd were future brothers-in-law. Which is probably heartbreaking for Shayanna’s sister, considering that Shaneah didn’t know that she and Lloyd were engaged…she thought they were just dating.

They were friends, practically family! There’s no motive! So who killed Lloyd?

Angel Dust fiends, that’s who. While Hernandez and Lloyd were spending quality time together sharing a joint of marijuana, one of the other two guys with them suffered a sudden PCP-induced psychosis and started shooting Lloyd for no reason whatsoever. Although there were no toxicology reports, this makes sense, too.

And the investigation behind the murder was horribly botched. It was “incomplete, biased and inept”. Hernandez’s lawyer insisted that the only goal of the investigation was to prove that Hernandez killed Lloyd, not to solve the case. Obviously, the jury needs to understand that proving someone committed a crime is not the same thing as solving a crime. Again, makes perfect sense to me.

But otherwise, Hernandez and Lloyd shared a passion. Not for football, no, no. They shared a passion for marijuana.

Well done, councilor. Well done.

The subliminal story here is that divas are combustible

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It’s only the first day of offseason workouts for several teams, and the Buffalo Bills’ newly acquired wide receiver Percy Harvin certainly isn’t wasting any energy trying to stay away from the spotlight.

Here’s what he had to say on his first day working out with the Bills: “The world has yet to see me really explode like I’m about to.”

Actually, Percy, the world watched you “explode” at Super Bowl XLVIII, when you scored on that kickoff return, and those two jet-sweeps for huge gains.

The only way the world will see you really explode is if the Bills go to Super Bowl 50. And it’s highly unlikely that the Bills will make it that far in the playoffs…IF they make the playoffs. On the positive side, the Bills odds of winning SB50 is 40-1, so there’s still a chance.

Otherwise, maybe they could shoot you from a cannon during the halftime show instead.

In other words, the subliminal story here is that divas are combustible.

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Well, it looks like being granted immunity doesn’t mean someone won’t commit perjury anyway

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It must be true: love is blind. And stupid.

The grand jury investigating the murder of Odin Lloyd questioned Aaron Hernandez’s fiance, Shayanna Jenkins, and came away from that meeting believing that she lied to them 29 times.

They assumed she would be the key witness for getting a conviction, the butter on top of their popcorn. But she would also possibly be put on trial herself for aiding and abetting, and obstruction of justice. So how do they compel someone to take the stand and hopefully tell the truth? Grant her immunity, so that she cannot invoke the Fifth. Smooth move, Mr. Prosecutor.

So while on the stand she testifies,

“When Aaron got back from the police station, when I had found out that Odin was murdered, I asked him if he did it and he said no. That was the extent of our conversation,”

What, you immediately changed the subject to talk about the slug that your one-year-old ate that day? Bitched about how you still don’t have your own car after Aaron signed for 40 million? Figured that “no” was a hint that you should just give him a blow job?

Here’s how we know that Shayanna lied: she is a woman, and women NEVER ask a man just one question and leave it at that.

She was also confronted with a text message she received from Hernandez which read, “Go in back of the screen in movie room when u get home an there is the box.” She told the court that it was not some sort of instruction from Aaron, but simply a coincidence that she quickly borrowed her sister’s car, put the box referenced in the text message into the car and drove it to some easily forgettable place to throw it into a dumpster.

And this right here is EXACTLY why I never text my wife. Every time I do, she throws something of mine into the trash! You’d think Aaron would have learned this by now, but nooooo…

Oh, and can you imagine the conversation she had with her sister that day? “Oh hi, sis. I heard about your boyfriend getting shot six times yesterday. That’s so sad. Speaking of boyfriends, that 40 million dollar cheap-ass bastard I’m living with won’t buy me my own car, so can I borrow yours? You’re not going anywhere today, right?

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