January 4, 2013

Gettin' Par-Laid: NFL Playoffs Divisional Round

For many, Friday is the day of the week we all yearn for. It's the bikini-clad supermodel that makes all the other days of the work week seem like Rebel Wilson. Except Thursday. Thursday is Zosia Mamet because she's almost super bangable but not quite there. Yes, I watch "Girls" and have a thing for the Jews. Fuck you.

Friday is also payday. So, it is only appropriate that the reoccurring series where we take your hard-earned coin and turn it into greater amounts of (slightly easier-earned) coin would debut on a Friday. It's not gambling if you're always right.

Plus, it's the weekend. The weekend means sex. Sex with your Significant Other, Anonymous Sex, Animal Costume Sex, One-Night-Stands, Gangbangs, Swingers Parties, and old-fashioned Dating (UGH, SO EXPENSIVE). Indulging in one of these individual sex acts, like betting on a single sports game, is fun. Thrilling, even. But when piggybacked with others will blow your Pituitary gland to kingdom come. I know...phrasing.

So, without further ado, let's get you Par-Laid.

What?


You know, some people might have regrets about photoshopping a photo like this just for a shitty pun, but I sure don't. I have no respect for judgment. This right here makes me laugh. It's god damn Chocolate Chip Kelly. I don't think I've loved anything more in my life. If my wife were pregnant, and this came out of her, I would pass out. Because of proudness. I'm so proud of this creation.

Not that it means anything, but I seems like CCK (Chocolate Chip Kelly) is going to the Browns. You heard it here first, or on twitter or something. But pretty sure it's happening. I've got sources. Warm, gooey, fresh out of the oven sources.

And he won the Fiesta bowl last night. With all this Chip Kelly news, I had to do it. If I had the proper software to turn this into a gif where the Chip Kelly heads spin, I would literally die of pride/dizziness.

It's Cool Arizona. I've Got Your Proof.


There it is ladies and gentlemen. I have the first proof that Tad Boyle is being a little whiny bitch. He's still touching it. It's not the only angle I have either. Click below to find some more juicy "Colorado is a bunch of fucking babies," goodness. You legalized pot. Get over yourselves. You have plenty to look forward to when you get home. Like watching Goonies at 4 a.m.

January 3, 2013

Prease Don't Reave Olegon, Chip Kerry!


Looks like Oregon's victory in the Fiesta Bowl may not be the only happy ending Chip Kelly gets...

Can BBQ replace Philly Cheese Steaks?


Not with theses walrus lips. Can you imagine how much more splatter will spray into this stache when he's at Arthur Bryant's BBQ. There's not enough paper printed at the Denver mint to wipe Andy Reid's body after he gets into a bowl of barbecue sauce and burnt ends.

Reid's primed, and perfect for Kansas City. The town of Kansas City, not so much the football team from Kansas City. If you commissioned a painter to paint a typical white guy from Kansas City, you'd get Andy Reid. I mean, the unnecessary and gross mustache is a staple of Kansas City. And by the way, why is it that fat guys insist on having moustaches? Like it's somehow going to improve you metabolism because of the added lip weight.

Hello.

Didn't see you there.

No, of course I did. Why else would I be balls-deep in a Turkish call girl in the middle of an elementary school book fair?

If you didn't quite follow that metaphor: the book fair is this blog, the girl is you and I'm...me. I think. You're welcome.

It's been a wild ride since I last PERM'D, as Wilt and I refer to it. My celebrity status peaked as a Web Redemption on Tosh.0, and since then I've mostly been gambling my appearance fee money away. This leads me to my next two updates:

A.) I will be incorporating a significantly higher amount of gambling-related content.
2.) I am broke, so please share this post with your friends because pageviews pay shit, but it's still more than THE PARLAY-WRECKING INABILITY OF THE PACKERS' DEFENSE TO STOP ADRIAN PETERSON.

Hopefully our former readers will be excited about our return, but if I had to guess, I'd bet most of them are jobless substance abusers whose internet access has been relegated to a computer at the public library.

Which sucks because our URL is probably blocked for the assumed sexual content.

Happy Perming, and I'll see you in the comments section. As always, pants optional.

Herm's Perm Redux

We're firing this bad bitch back up today. Seems sudden, and random, but when it comes to New Years  resolutions I don't quaver. I don't know how it's going to look from now on. Stories could be sporadically posted, or come in heaps, or I could end a sentence with a preposition like I just did. Who knows. All I know is I will give efforts. If it's your first time, I'll explain why this is called Herm's Perm. Although you should already know, because at one point we were shown on ESPN. So fuck you for not knowing. This isn't on us.

Anyways, the theme of the blog formed quite a few years ago. Bubb and I were doing freestyling by ourself to instrumentals from rap songs. As most freestyles by white guys go, it was random and awkward. And out of one of those awkward white rhymes came a terrible rap line.

"If Obama had a perm he wouldn't win . . . or maybe Herm . . . Edwards."

It wasn't til later that we started this sports blog, and out of pure unadulterated randomness, we had to choose the most inside of inside jokes to label our blog. Herm's Perm. And people continue to question that decision daily, and yet we hold steady. Because photoshopping perms onto Herm Edwards' head never gets old. Never.