I know what you’re thinkin’.
“A guy who walks down the street wearing a hat like that ain’t afraid of nothin’.” Well, you’re absolutely right.
I have been through hell. I once ate gefilte fish. I took two semesters of Japanese as an undergraduate. I was a Jets fan during the 1-15 Rich Kotite debacle. I can take anything you’ve got, pal.
Of course, I wasn’t always this tough. My eight year old eyes shed tears at an unprecedented scale when Mark Moseley defeated my beloved Jets with a field goal in the second overtime of the 1986 AFC divisional playoffs. So began a long, arduous journey which stripped me of all human emotion and ended with me returning to civilization empowered with incredible football analysis skills, unpopular political beliefs, a macabre sense of humor and the ability to turn football related substances into gold. Unfortunately, Matt Millen, my arch nemesis, created a device which stole that last ability from me. He hoped to use my powers to make the Detroit Lions into winners, but he reversed the polarity on his device and he was instead forever cursed with the power to turn football related substances into manure.
Unable to finance myself by turning football equipment into gold, I have turned to blogging in order to pay the bills. The bulk of my income still comes from my small grocery store in Bed-Stuy. I have been robbed 38 times since I opened last week, sustaining 19 bullet wounds and one rather painful stab wound. Fortunately my magical powers are strong enough that I am still unaffected by conventional weapons in a permanent sense.