I've been staying downtown at a hotel here in Detroit for the last ten weeks, because who wants to get shot by a crackhead in 20-below wind-chill? A few weeks back, Terrell Owens walks into the hotel bar. I'm like, "Hey, T.O. Great season, man!" Then when he leaves, I'm thinking, "Hey, T.O. Next season when you're doing your end-zone minstrel dances again, why not get Spike Lee to choreograph it for you? Same goes for you, Chad Johnson, you shuck-n-jive hot-shot!" Victory dances are not part of the Tang Method.
Peyton Manning, now there' a class act. Cut that meat! Cut that meat! Same goes for Eli. And
Meanwhile, we've got Tang-Mail. "RdrGuy06" from "Cali" writes: "Hey, Rick. I'm representing Raider Nation! WWHHOOOOOO! YEEAAH!" Listen, the only representation the Raiders need is in their rape-counseling programs. Once again, the Raiders are no closer to the Lombardi Trophy than Shannon Elizabeth is to the Tang Juice.
"Hey Tango!" writes L-Rod from B-Town. "Funniest thing I've seen all year was when Rasheed Wallace sucker-groin-punched Josh Childress in the fourth quarter of a blowout at the Omni. Hey, Sheed, is that bald patch where they drilled a hole in your head to give you a brain?" Great point, L-Rod. Tang a Gong for you! Get it on! Tang a Gong! Get it on!