Crazy-Person James Harrison Has a Message for Roger Goodell

Editor’s note: Mentally read this in an extremely deep and frightening voice.

Oh, hello there. I’m James Harrison, linebacker for the Pittsburgh Steelers, hunter of wildebeests, world-champion kangaroo boxer and all-around crazy human.

You may be wondering why I’m sweating. Was I getting warmed up for the Bengals tonight? No, silly. That’s preposterous. I was simply watching some cartoons while riding my tricycle around in a circle in my living room and singing the chorus to “Kill the Wabbit” by the great Elmer J. Fudd.

Being an insane person takes a lot of hard work and training.

A lot of people having been asking me, “James, how do you feel about being fined again by the NFL?”

And I just laugh. $20,000? Dude, that’s G.I. Joe money. I spend more than that on a Saturday jaunt to Toys R’ Us. I’m currently building a vacation home in Florida made entirely of Legos. It even has a 10-car garage to house my expansive collection of tiny cars.

This is my tiny car. Beep Beep.

Am I going to change my game because of these new rules? No.

I do everything head-first. I once opened a jar of olives using only my eyebrows.

And I hate rules. When I play Monopoly, I refuse to let other players roll the dice. Why do you think they call it MONOPOLY?

Commissioner Goodell was a nice guy when I went to New York to meet with him. But now I owe him an extra 20 bucks because the fruit bowl in the waiting room was, in fact, not real fruit. But it was scrumptious.

Side note: Scaling the side of the Empire State Building is frowned upon. Seen a dude do it in a movie once.

Mister Goodell asked me not to be so malicious and vicious and nasty and mean and good at football. I was super-duper bummed. He told me not to touch Carson Palmer tonight because he is a sweet man who films TV commercials for charity and plays cornhole on the weekends with his swell Midwestern chums.

I just laughed and told Mr. Goodell that I was going to continue to dish out copious amounts of pain and anguish because I am a Pittsburgh Steeler, and I like to win football games. When I win football games, I am filled with the kind of joy that only Bugs Bunny and Friends can normally provide my crazy-ass self.

Go ahead and fine me, Roger. All you’re doing is cutting into the profits of the Mattel Corporation, who make an outstanding collection of Ray-Guns and other delightful toys.

I will continue to obliterate the souls of all men who stand before me, for I am a complete and utter 100-percent U.S.D.A. certified nut.


 

Categories: Pulling No Punches