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A Hater's Prayer: Invocation For The Texans' Season

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As many of you know from previous posts of mine, I can be a truly vindictive person.  There are times when I relish, RELISH, I say, in the misfortunes of other teams.  I'm not talking about watching someone get carried off on a stretcher because they lost a major extremity or because they've lost all movement from the hair down.  That's just not cool.

What I mean is the joy I feel deep in the cockles (snicker) of my heart whenever a team gets a boneheaded penalty.  I squeal with unmitigated delight when the snap goes 10 feet over the quarterback's head, and I cackle like Casey Anthony after getting out of earshot of the prison she was held in when a quarterback sits on the field and cries after muffing the hold on what would have been a game-winning field goal in the playoffs.

In short, I am, or at least can be, a low-down, filthy hater.  And with the start of the NFL's regular season looming tomorrow as the Packers take on the Saints, I thought now would be a good time to offer an invocation to Gozer, the Patron God of Haters, for a successful season for your Houston Texans

O mighty Gozer, first let me thank you for helping pull Roger Goodell's and DeMaurice Smith's heads out of their respective backsides and ending this lockout in short order.  Because of your divine intervention, O mighty god of haters, the season is about to start soon, and there is no shortage of people/things to hate upon.

With that being said, however, please, Gozer, may it be learned that the only reason the lockout ended as quickly as it did is because some unnamed person threatened to show a video of the two of them spooning at a cheap fleabag motel on Long Island if they didn't end it.  Call it punishment for their naughty behavior.

May Wade Phillips' defense cause Colts coach Jim Caldwell to actually blink, thus tearing a hole in the fabric in the universe, preferably somewhere over Oakland.

May noted motivational speaker and clutch player LeBron James give the Miami Dolphins a thought-provoking heartfelt speech about the importance of playing well in the fourth quarter of games.  May this speech cause the Dolphins to play as well as...well...LeBron James in the fourth quarter of any meaningful game.

May the New Orleans Saints experience at least one run per game where the opposing runner sheds eight tackles on his way to a 70-yard touchdown run.  Also, may Drew Brees and/or Sean Payton suddenly awaken with Freddie Mercury's mustache.  May this mustache fend off any attempts they make to shave it off.

May the Pitts...oh just f*** you, Pittsburgh, and doubly so for the Steelers.  May Ben Roethlisberger become some bad man's boyfriend in a poorly-lit bathroom in a biker bar in Pittsburgh.  May it also be learned that James Harrison is a huge ABBA fan and played the role of "Maria" from West Side Story when he was in college because "he felt pretty, oh so pretty."

May the hole that Caldwell's blink caused be responsible for Al Davis' all-speedster team to move at roughly the same speed as the average roadside construction project or JaMarcus Russell, whichever is slower.

May the reanimated corpse of Edgar Allen Poe ride into the stadium on the backs of thousands of crows who will dive-bomb Ray Lewis.  That way, a murder of crows can murder a murdering murderer.

May every play-by-play announcer, except Gus Johnson, be suddenly and inexplicably stricken mute during any Texans broadcast.  They have about as much business talking about the game as does a family of epileptic squirrels.  The difference being the squirrels might occasionally offer some insight.

May the entire Tennessee Titans coaching staff, save for Frank Bush, become trapped in the locker room, leaving the former Texans defensive coordinator to coach the entire game against Houston all by himself.

May Jack Del Rio be given a lifetime contract and a bonus for each starting quarterback he fires with only a few days left before each game he plays.

May the Cleveland Browns end up moving to Oklahoma City where Mike Holmgren will beat local douchebag Clay Bennett to death with Andy Reid's bucket o' justice.

May the Glazer family suffer from constant incurable cases of gas the likes of which would make the Hindenburg look like a beer fart.  May they get this for making Jon Gruden a household name and unleashing him on an unsuspecting public.

May whoever thought that having each touchdown reviewed by instant replay have a referee standing watch whenever he's getting intimate and reviewing whether THAT qualified as a score or not.  Also, may whoever he's being intimate with shout that it definitely was NOT a score.

May Jaguars owner Wayne Weaver be sued by the thousands of empty seats of his stadium for subjecting them to cruel and unusual punishment--watching the Jaguars play eight games a year.

May bedbugs on steroids find their way into Dunta Robinson's jockstrap and cause him to scratch himself raw on national television.  May this also make Roger Goodell's head explode.

May Mike Brown's accountants steal his entire fortune and one of his kidneys and leave him in a bathtub full of ice with a note telling him to seek medical help.

May Cam Newton's father announce that his son is returning to play for Auburn.  May it be learned that the reason for this is because Auburn is offering more money than Newton's current contract with the Panthers, not to mention the amount going to his father.

If the Colts should, Gozer forbid, find themselves with the first pick overall in the draft, pick Andrew Luck.  May they have the same headaches with Luck that they did with the last quarterback from Stanford the Colts drafted.  And may they ultimately be forced to trade Andrew Luck to Seattle.

May Andre Johnson look cross-eyed at Cortland Innegan and cause him to drop a pot of gold in his pants out of uncontrollable fear.

May the ghost of Vince Lombardi rise up and repeatedly pimp-slap the dogsnot out of Michael Lombardi.  May this happen on a live broadcast in front of millions of people.

May Clorox never see another cent from Battle Red Blog as punishment for not sponsoring said blog.

And lastly, may those who doubted the Texans again this year be forced to eat massive portions of crow at the end of the season.  And may these crows have been found bathing in a sewage treatment pond before serving them!

Got some prayers to offer to Gozer?  Leave them in the comments!