SCP

I’m adjusting my score to 21-17, Panthers, to accommodate for

I don’t think Tepper is worth a poo. I’m keeping my PSLs for two more seasons then I’m retiring from the Sunday tailgates and watching from home. I’ll still hit one road game a year, but the days of all the hard work, expense, and annoyance that goes into being a diehard tailgating fan are coming to an end. Tepper doesn’t deserve it.

In an effort to change the mojo, The helmets are facing slightly northwest of B of A towards the Pacific Northwest.

Do you smell that? Can you feel that? No, it’s not the nip of fall in the air nor the smell of soccer mom’s sitting around fire pits burning fake logs they purchased at Teeter while buying an $8 bottle of Cabernet. No, my friends, what you are smelling is ass. The kind of ass that hasn’t been washed in 4 days. The kind of ass that has people side eyeing each other while in line at Aldi’s wondering who sh*t themselves. The kind of stench that you smell when you get into a Saints fan’s 1987 Dodge Caravan where the middle bench seat has more sh*t stains than Matt Ryan game worn pants. For two and a half seasons we endured unwiped, unshaven and unbleached ass in Matt Rhule. David Tepper, who seems to be better at closing Rock Hill land deals than owning a football team, had his pudgy face buried in them rosy Rhule butt cheeks tossing that rancid salad like a Bucs fan blowing a Tom Brady blow up doll in the rear seat of his PT Cruiser. The amount of booty that has emanated from B of A since Tepper purchased the Panthers would make a pig farmer gag. I don’t think he has made a good football decision, ever. I will give him credit for firing that idiot Marty Hurney and for sh*t canning Matt Rhule, but literally, any moron would’ve made those same decisions, albeit sooner. But fret not, my fellow Panther fans. We are all idiots for being a fan of this franchise, yet it is the life we have chosen using our free will and lack of the chromosome that gives one cognitive thought and reasoning. A Hooter’s waitress once told me “You’re fat and should order grilled chicken, not boneless fired wings.” I lean on that advice everyday, it has made me a relatively successful sales man. I have parlayed that advice into life altering decisions, and today I am leaning on that waitress’s advice to tell you that the Panthers will get it going. I feel it in my unwashed asshole. It’s a tingling sensation that is undeniable, and it’s not caused by the Ruby Tuesday induced diarrhea that I suffer from. This team, and our new QB, will click. Sure, our defense has suffered some setbacks with injuries. Yes, Christiansen is out at guard, but I didn’t think he was our long-term guard anyway. I am here to tell you that we roll into Seattle on Sunday and we punch that Italian QB in his mouth and we turn him over three times. Am I a huge Frank Reich fan? No. As a matter of fact, his press conferences infuriate me and its only week three. But he has surrounded himself with some smart dudes, a potpourri of coaches that should be able to mask the stench of any ass. I feel we can get our run game going and allow Bryce to settle in a bit. I think our front seven will give Gino trouble and that beautiful genius, Ejiro Evero, will scheme us into those aforementioned turnovers. This week is the week we see Bryce get his first win as and NFL QB. Are the Panthers currently suffering from a serious case of Candida (google that sh*t) of the butthole? Yes. Is Seattle the nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory drug needed to eliminate that itchy burn? Yes. Panthers 27 Seahwaks 17

After me by about 8 years

The Panthers are my fiber

She’s a beaut Clark

I had to Google that poo

Listen, I love this fuggin Panthers team more than I should. Lord knows I’ve spent thousands of hours on toilets around the world reading Panthers content. My twig and berries have been crammed into Euro toilets so tightly that I had to wipe the backside of my balls after pooping and I was still digesting Panthers content. I have season tickets. I go to a road game or two every year. I pay my dues like all of y’all do. At least 4 of my hemorrhoids are a result of The Huddle and the other 3 are because of Twitter and I’m considering filing a lawsuit against Igo for emotional damages to my brown eye. I am also an unapologetic Rhule hater. He’s a buffoon who should be coaching at my alma mater, WCU, not in the NFL. But he is the out of shape hand we’ve been dealt. His first two years were like that first sh*tty car you owned as a youth. That 1998 Pontiac Aztec with 300K miles, bald tires, rusted doors and the gotdamn missing pop-out tent that Pontiac always advertised so you could watch people smoke meth at the KOAs across America. But here’s the deal, nobody had that tent and no matter where your road is taking you, you always have to stop to poop. And sometimes the only place you can find is a franchise Exxon with an exterior restroom, a locked door, a single key attached to a coxsackievirus (Google that poo) laden toilet plunger handle, and a toilet that hasn’t been cleaned since 1964. The question you need to ask yourself is do you poo or do you hold it and risk dysentery? My point is, Matt Rhule is our dirty toilet. As much as I dislike him, I am going to grab that key from the cashier, risk catching campylobacter (Google that too), hover my hairy ass over that Jackson Pollock toilet seat, and pray to the lord that my turd doesn’t come out sideways. I think we have a pretty damn decent roster. Am I an idiot? Sure. I thought Deonte Brown was the next Larry Allen and I am wrong 100 times more often than I am right, but I think our roster can compete and as much as it pains me to say this, I think our coaching staff has a chance to not get out-coached this season as long as Rhule doesn’t get in the way. Tom Brady is looking like Magda from Something About Mary, the Saints are 40 Jamie’s INTs from being .500, and the Falcons roster is more embarrassing than that time Matt Ryan literally crapped himself and had a skid mark in his game pants on national TV. If the stars align and Fitterer makes a few moves over the next few days, we could be looking at 12-5 or 16-1. if you’re not a Panthers fan, f*ck your team.

Hey it’s facing B of A Stadium. I even bought one of the new black ones so now two are facing B of A Stadium and our stupid fake grass.

That had to be like 2007ish

Acceptable but there is a caveat. If you pair the Hanes sweatshirt with pleated jean shorts that hang below your knee and a pair of black high top converse with tube socks pushed down and bunched up above your ankles, you’d be in violation of the boycott.

I tweeted this out yesterday but I feel it’s important to share on several platforms. It’s officially Cowboys week for us. The Dallas Cowboys and their acid washed denim wearing inbred fans are like portapotty’s; you see them everywhere and they all wreak of turds marinating in blue chemical water and you only interact with them if you’re intestines are about to burst out of your brown eye. Without Cowboys fans, Wrangler jeans would’ve gone out of business 40 years ago. This is why I’m calling for an official boycott of all things that Cowboys fans love and cherish. For the next 9 days, I will boycott the following: Walmart Skoal Kirkland brand clothing Dollar General Ford Aerostar’s Faded Glory jorts White cross trainers Busch Light Fanny packs Golden Corral Farmersonly dot com Preparation H LA Gear Reebok Pumps KOA campgrounds Tube socks Dial-up Internet Dirt roads Mountain Dew Great Value ketchup Braided belts Tighty white underwear Interstate rest stops Menthol Cricket Wireless Pornhub Cheese puffs Wings Beach Stores Beta Max videos Corduroy Bass Pro Shops Bel Biv Devoe Jiffy Pop White Snake Kris Kross Camcorders Denny’s Gas station showers Atari 2600 Funyuns Armour Potted Meat Myrtle Beach Huddle House CPAP machines Velvet paintings Diabetic socks Malt-O-Meal Honey Nut Scooteers Jitterbug Flip phones Subway Diabetic socks Loves Truck Stops Walmart scooters

Yes it will

Damn cleaning people

If you disagree, may the lord have mercy on your soul and may your butthole burn every time you poop. https://twitter.com/95keeppounding/status/1422950358503104518?s=21

I don’t have a full on erection but the blood is pumping. Our defense could be nice and carry us while Sam finds his legs.

Sup B!

I forgot all about Alicejandra and those custom door frames with the little fluer-de-lis accents

Kugbila was drafted in 2013 (hard to believe it’s been that long)

Exactly. ”Tryin to make a dollar out of fifteen cents (a dime and a nickel)”

My belly is full and I’m on the couch while you’re rummaging through the pantry at 11pm for a pack of nabs to fill the void.

The helmet remains in its proper place and is pointing towards B of A stadium.

Have you ever watched a dog take a dump? They get in that awkward stance. The tail starts to tremble a little bit as the dog strains and the turtle starts to peek its head out of the brown eye. Sometimes the dog loses his balance and stumbles forward with a turd dangling and swinging ever so close to the dogs leg. Eventually the crap hits the grass and the dog walks off like nothing happened. Meanwhile the person walking the dog is left standing there staring at a pile of piping hot poop. She shamelessly pulls a bag over her hand before bending down to pick up the poop that just left the dogs digestive system. She then carries the poop until finding a receptacle where the poop can be deposited without offending her fellow humans. It’s a scene that plays out daily and it’s a scene that played out at Mint and Morehead when Scott Fitterer walked into Marty Hurney’s office the day after he was hired. Imagine being Fitty. You just accepted your dream job as the GM of an NFL team. The owner of the team is an aggressive and progressive guy that is willing to invest whatever it takes to win. State of the art facilities are being built. You get to live in the Carolinas, one of the countries most sought after regions to live and raise a family. You show up to the office on your first day and you go through all of the HR bulls*t and head to your office. You fling open the door to your new office and immediately step your size 13 Tecova boots into a huge pile of steaming Hurney poop that had been piling up over 15 years. The room reeks of Popov Vodka and meatballs and there are Trapper Keepers full of notes on 250 lb. Division III offensive tackles with 2nd round grades. Above the desk is a hand painted sign that reads “Strive for 7 wins, anything more is gravy!”. Needless to say, cleaning up a decade and a half of Martyocrity and Nippleshorts will take some work. Enter 2021 Draft Season. What we witnessed this past weekend is something that we have never seen before in the history of this sub-.500 organization. Marty Hurney would have NEVER, and I mean NEVER EVER been able to do anything close to what Fitty Cent pulled off. We can argue the picks and passing on certain guys until the cows come home. But I’d rather have 11 boneless wings than 6 bone-in wings. Marty was as worthless as a g-string bikini in Buffalo. When Denim Boy rehired that doofus it was one of the dumbest moves in pro sports history. Then new ownership kept that clown on the payroll, one of Tepper’s biggest mistakes. Keeping Marty as GM is like building a new house and saying “Meh, a roof isn’t important.” This 2021 draft class might bust. This 2021 draft class might produce 6 to 8 starters. All I know is that sweet sumbitch Fitterer turned 7 picks into 11. This team has a player type now, something we never saw under that stupid f**king idiot, Marty. We are drafting athletes that competed at big schools. Athleticism is valued. Late round picks are not just throwing darts at the board like a drunken teenager. Late round picks build depth. You want to FINALLY have back-to-back winning seasons for the first time in franchise history? You build depth and you find guys that are dawgs who can fill in when a starter goes down. You find athletes that win on special teams. You don’t piss those picks away on garbage liquor like Hurney at an Applebee’s. I loathe Hurney and I am so excited for the era that Fitty is ushering in. It finally feels like we are a real NFL team. We had a real strategy and we didn’t panic. We didn’t spend $90,000 on a 1989 Chrysler Le Baron convertible with spoke rims and a rusted out bumper and fading faux wood paneling. That’s the kind of sh*t Marty valued. He loved rolling up to the Sonic in a car that he couldn’t even roll the window down to place his order. He somehow thought that getting a guy like Edmund Kugbilla ws outsmarting the rest of the league. Turning over stones in the CFL and XFL was juice for him like he was some kind of wizard that knew something others didn’t. F**k Marty for life. Fitterer is different, at least until he isn’t. Thanks for listening. I hope Drew Brees’ retirement sucks.

See what firing Marty will do for draft results?