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The Kragthorpe Diaries IV

Note #1: This is Steve Kragthorpe's actual diary. We can't control the fact that he has a sailor's mouth and is misogynistic towards women. We can only love him for it.

Note #2: Previous, even less polished editions of The Kragthorpe Diaries can be found here, here, and here.

Dear Diary,


The season hasn't even started and The Krag is screwed. Let's see here, what has gone wrong this offseason?

That's a lot of shit.

Fuck, if I wasn't stoned right now, I would be worried as hell. Weed helps The Krag unwind and forget about all his problems. I just pack my bowl, fire up "Dark Side of the Moon" on vinyl, and catch everything on the other side. It's a great mellow. Works every time. Of course, then my reefer-savant-of-a-backup-QB has to go and steal my stash. Fan-fucking-tastic.

So he's out for 4 games. That leaves us with what, 12 players? Not good. Even weed can't mellow that harsh. I have assistants in strip clubs right now looking for bouncers to play offensive line. I loaded them up on singles and sent them toward those titties. That was two weeks ago -- I haven't seen 'em since.

OK, let's recap: we don't have any players, the players we do have don't know their ass from a hole in the ground, and our backup QB doesn't realize Facebook is used by everyone in the fucking world. Plus we have assistant coaches motorboatin' every girl named Destiny in the Queen City. The way I see it, that's about the only thing we have going for us.

Seriously, watching us play football is like watching a monkey fuck a football. It's retarded, but people in Kentucky will still do it.