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Al Davis had put together the perfect Raiders team for ''96. The only Thing he was missing was a good quarterback. He had scouted all the colleges, and even the high schools, and he couldn''t find a ringer quarterback that would ensure a Super Bowl win.
Then one night, while watching CNN, he saw a war zone in Bosnia. In the background, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a young Bosnian soldier with a truly incredible arm. First, he threw a hand grenade straight into a 15th story window over 200 yards away --ka-boom! Next, he threw another hand grenade into a group of about 10 soldiers a good 110 yards away--ka-blooey!
Then, a car passes going 90 miles an hour-- bulls-eye! Another grenade right into the barely open window.
"I''ve got to get this guy," Al says to himself. "He has the perfect arm!"
So he brings him to the states and teaches him the great game of football. Predictably, the young man breaks all NFL records for completed passes, accuracy and touchdowns. The Raiders go on to handily win the Super Bowl.
The young Bosnian is lionized as the Great Hero of Super Bowl XXXI, and When Al asks him what he wants, all the young man wants to do is call his mother.
Al arranges for the call and hands the phone to his young quarterback: "Mom," the young man says into the receiver, "I just won the Super Bowl!"
"I don''t want to talk to you," the old woman says. "You deserted us. You''re no longer my son."
"I don''t think you understand, mother" the young man pleads. "I just won the greatest sporting event in the world. I''m in the middle of thousands of adoring fans."
"No, let me tell you," the mother implores. "At this very moment, there are gun shots all around us. The neighborhood is a pile of rubble. Your two brothers were beaten within an inch of their life last week, and this week your sister was raped in broad daylight...."
The old lady pauses, in tears...
"...I''ll never forgive you for moving us to Oakland!"
Humor of the day
December 26, 1999
Dear Santa,
You must be surprised that I''m writing to you today, the 26th of December. Well I would very much like to clear up certain things that have occurred since the beginning of the month, when, filled with illusion, I wrote you my letter.
I asked for a bicycle, an electric train set, a pair of roller blades, and a football uniform. I destroyed my brain studying the whole year. Not only was I the first in my class, but I had the best grades in the whole school.
I''m not going to lie to you, there was no one in my entire neighborhood that behaved better than me, with my parents, my brothers, my friends, and with my neighbors. I would go on errands, and even help the elderly cross the street. There was virtually nothing within reach that I would not do for humanity.
What balls do you have leaving me a fucking yo-yo, a stupid whistle, and a pair of socks? What the fuck were you thinking you fat son of a bitch?!
That you have taken me for a sucker the whole fucking year to come out with some shit like this under the tree. As if you hadn''t fucked me enough, you gave that little faggot across the street so many toys that he can''t even walk into his house.
Don''t let me see you trying to fit your big ass down my chimney next year. I''ll fuck you up. I''ll throw rocks at those stupid reindeer and scare them away so you''ll have to walk back to the fucking North Pole, just like what I have to do now since you didn''t get me that fucking bike.
FUCK YOU SANTA. Next year you''ll find out how bad I can be, you FAT-SON-OF-A-BITCH!
Sincerely,
Little Johnny