Eagles

It’s election day! But who should you vote for?

Election day is what separates this fine country from all the others in the world. It’s what this country was founded on, your right to cast a vote to decide who will lead us into the promised land. Why, our electoral process gives millions of inbred middle-American morons a voice to elect a senile, blustering, embarrassing reality TV star to the White House (ok…it may have its flaws).

But, who should we vote for, Uncle Coggin? There are so many candidates, so many fancy ballot questions that those fat cats in Washington make so hard to understand, why, I don’t know where to start!

Well I’m here to steer you through the rigorous voting landscape and offer my humble opinion on who and what you should pull the lever for today.

So please, sit back and let a middle school drop-out guide you into that voting booth, nuzzle up to your body, wrap my arms around your waist and kiss at your soft, luscious neck while we play out our sensual role in democracy.

Don’t come a knocking if that voting booth is rocking.

 

 

 

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Does the Eagles Super Bowl win help with this season’s ineptitude?

I didn’t feel like writing anything today about the Eagles collapse against the Panthers, because what more can be said that hasn’t already been said? 17-0, give up 21 points in the fourth quarter, Wentz misses a wide-open Smallwood to move the chains at the end, fumbles, game over. 3-4 on the season. Fine. Whatever.

Then I saw this.

Everything wrong with Philadelphia sports fans summed up nicely by two moron sports talk callers. Nicely done, gentlemen.

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Down with the boo in Philadelphia

Last night, Markelle Fultz bricked his first shot…and his second…and had his third shot blocked….and absolutely bricked his fourth shot in front of 20,000 rabid fans hoping to see some glimpse of promise from the touted prospect during the 76ers home opener.

I watched from my couch, cringing, waiting for the fickle fans to cascade the struggling shooting guard with boos, to let their frustrations out on the 20-year-old.

It never happened.

Instead, 20,000 fans cheered heartily when he made his fifth shot of the night, upping the volume with every point he scored, and going absolutely BALLISTIC when he finally made a three-point shot deep into the fourth.

Listen to the house come down when he drains this shot.

Awesome. It’s almost like cheers for a 20-year-old struggling with both his confidence and his shot are better than drunken morons booing him during the second game of the season. Who knew?!

They’re doing for Fultz what they did for the terribly slumping Pat Burrell in 2003. They recognize that the effort is there, and they’re pulling for their guy. Burrell came out of it and is BELOVED in this city, there’s no reason Fultz can’t as well.

But but but but Coggin, I hear the five of my dedicated readers saying, it’s our right to boo as fans! How will we let our teams know when they’re under performing, when they’re playing poorly, or when we’re displeased with the effort?

Now now, I’m not saying the boo should be abolished. But maybe, just maybe, it’s time for Philadelphia to finally *GASP* not be brain-dead idiots when we decide to boo.

It’s a tall order for a lot of you, but I know we can do it. Booing is a mental crutch for this city. Lets start walking again. We don’t need it.

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Odell Beckham Jr. is a quagmire of shit

Before human piece of white toast Pat Shurmur is inevitably fired following a 2-14 season, the best thing he could do for the Giants franchise is to put measures in place to keep Saquon Barkley as far away from Odell Beckham Jr. as possible. Put their stalls on opposite sides of the locker room, keep their interactions limited to a bare minimum, spray Barkley with a water bottle if he comes within 20-feet of Beckham…anything to keep one of the worst teammates in the NFL away from one of its best young talents.

Beckham is an awful teammate. He is a black hole of shit. He sucks teammates into his gravitational pull and crushes them under the weight of his diva attitude, molding them into less talented, just as disgruntled clones of himself. Sterling Shepard has already circled the drain, sucked into the Beckham maelstrom; suddenly imploding on the sideline during games and fighting inanimate objects while the Giants find themselves down by two touchdowns yet again.

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Did Don Rickles inadvertently cost the Eagles a Super Bowl victory in 1981?

Yesterday, I found myself struggling to keep my head above water at work and I took a deep, deep dive into a Don Rickles YouTube wormhole. There’s nothing better than watching old talk show clips of Rickles tearing celebrities to shreds as a delighted Johnny Carson or David Letterman look on, unable to stop the hilarious carnage as he barrels over flustered guests and ugly audience members.

I came across a web series produced by the AARP called “Dinner with Don,” released in 2017, featuring a 91-year-old Rickles having dinner with a different celebrity each week. It’s a blatant rip-off of Jerry Seinfeld’s “Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee” and Rickles looks like he can barely keep his head up through the entire taping, but he’s still Rickles and the guests are all interesting, so it’s a great time waster if you’re a fan.

In an interview with Rich Eisen, Rickles drops a gem about the only Super Bowl he’s ever attended, the 1981 Super Bowl XV featuring the Eagles and the Raiders.

According to Rickles, he was in the Eagles locker room before the game and took offense to the VERY Catholic prayer circle, as you can after the jump:

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Vontae Davis perfects the Irish exit

Vontae Davis told the Bills he was just stepping out for some air, before the screeching of his car tires echoed through the locker room as the former pro-bowl cornerback weighed his options and decided fleeing the premises was the best course for his professional career.

In easily the best highlight of the young NFL season, the Buffalo Bills are so soul crushingly awful that former pro-bowl cornerback Davis told the team he was retiring at halftime. The Bills are so terrible Davis couldn’t even bother to pretend to care about the game anymore, he couldn’t bother to pretend to even be hurt and hang out on the sidelines for the rest of the game before announcing his retirement later on this week.

The very thought of strapping his pads on again and squeezing his head into that Bills helmet made him so sick to his stomach that he just said fuck it, I’m leaving.

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In another “Sliding Doors” reality, the Eagles traded for Mariota and the city is miserable

If you’ve never seen the 1998 Gwyneth Paltrow classic “Sliding Doors” you’re doing yourself quite the disservice. The movie focuses on a woman rushing to catch a train in the London tube (because this movie is so very properly British), and follows separate realities of the woman based on if she had caught or missed the train.

SPOILER: She dies in one of the realities and lives in the other. I don’t remember which one, but despite what you’re all thinking she is not hit by a train in one of the realities. That would have made for a better movie, but who am I criticize the creative choices of Ms. Paltrow?

Either way, it explores an interesting wrinkle I’m sure we’ve all thought about. What if we had taken another career path? What if we had stayed at that party for another 15 minutes and met our soulmate instead of leaving early to go home and drink by ourselves and pass out on our couch at 1 a.m.?

Watching Marcus Mariota bumblefuck his way around the field on Sunday against a piece of garbage Miami Dolphins team and throw bad pass after bad pass made me stop for a moment and consider the path of the Eagles franchise if chubby, no-huddle guru Chip Kelly had actually pulled the trigger on a deal to bring Mariota to the Eagles before the 2015 draft.

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