John Madden Is After My Man

The man and his PS3 are making a very serious attempt to drive me over the edge of reason. Since I work days and he works nights, we rarely see each other through the week. He will come dragging in anywhere between 3:00AM and oh-my-freaking-Gawd-do-you-know-what-time-it-is. A sane person would toddle off to bed after working 14 hours and then driving another hour and a half to get home, but not the man. No. Huh-uh.

After being punched in the nuts about fifteen gazillion times for waking me up with a "Hey Baby, ya wanna?" at No-Fucking-Way-O'thirty, he has learned to find other ways to amuse himself. I think he's now having an affair with John Madden 2010 NFL Football.

It's a tad bit disturbing to be woken by commentary by John Madden. I can be blissfully asleep, dreaming of having some sexy time with movie stars and college cuties, when out of the blue I hear:

"He's back real deep, waiting to return this one."

"Looks like he's going to re-enter."

"He's got a hot hand now and it looks like the other team is definitely gonna have to put some hands on him."

"He's got a valuable weapon there."

"He's feeling some pressure now and looking for a tight end to step up and help him out."

"They need to gather the troops now, because that's just poor execution."

See? John Madden wants to have orgies in my house! I can hear it in his creepy old man voice and to tell you the truth, it's scary. It's a good thing The Man likes bendy girls and boobs.

Looks like it's time to shave my legs and set the alarm clock a few hours earlier, 'cause there's no way I'm letting John Madden horn in on my game.