Hello, Hammies!

Today, I removed Adam Vinatieri from my "might be gay" list. Nice work, Adam! Keep up the hetero behavior and we might have a chance this season.

Meantime, as the Thanksgiving holiday approaches, it's time to be thankful - thankful I'm not a turkey! Haha!

Hey, what are you doing this Thanksgiving? Guess what I'm doing? Don't tell anyone, but every year me and my dork-face little brother get together, break out the family video camera, make sure Momma and Daddy are passed out from moonshine at the Turkey Party, and we make our annual YouTube video. Man, we can be really funny and creative.

Here's the shot list for this year's video (asterisks are next to annual video traditions):

- Me farting on Eli's head.*

- Me farting on Momma's cat while it sleeps.*

- Eli porking his Tom Brady poster while wearing an Adam Vinatieri mask.

Hello Peyton Manning Fans!

Here's something a little bit embarrassing - for the past few months, I thought Barack Obama was a rookie wide receiver for the Chicago Bears. Turns out he only looks like a rookie wide receiver, and he's running for president against an old dude with a gimp arm!

Seems to me Obama would have the presidency locked up. But me and Eli accidentally watched the debate for five minutes the other night. And those Hammies just don't get it! It's not about the middle class! It's not about oil! And hey, old dude - I ain't your friend!

It's apparent my quarterbacking duties are called for here. Barack, Old Dude: Winning the presidency is not about your silly concerns. It's about dumb, drunk dudes sitting in a sports bar. Every hot-doggin' election year, politicians miss out on these crucial swing voters - hundreds of thousands of sports fans, ready to get drunk, eat chicken wings, cheat on their significant others, and do whatever else you tell them to.

To the presidential candidate who wishes to take my advice, here is my Five-Point Plan to the Presidency:

1) Find some hot girls.

Hey, who's the fart-knocking dork-brain who wrote this? You're telling me that Eli is better than me? ME???? Hahahahahahahahahahahahaha!

Look, all right, I sat by and watched my faggy little brother get lucky in the Super Bowl this past year. I watched him win the MVP trophy and then dry hump it every night before in bed. I even watched him try to beat me in some sort of bizarre licking competition.

But enough is enough. I am Peyton Manning. I am the FIRST Manning Super Bowl MVP! I have big feet and a bigger forehead, and I can whip dumb-dumb Eli at anything! Including football, Mr. Dork-Brain!

In case you're not convinced, here are some other examples of why I am better:

Has anybody seen that Wrangler commercial starring my good friend Brett Favre?

I think it's really good. It has everything a football commercial should have - guys in jeans, laughing, throwing the pigskin, porking each other in the mud, and Brett Favre's butt. I have seen a lot of Man Butt. But nobody's got a butt like Brett Favre.

Here's how much I like Brett's butt: Any time Eli calls me Butt Face, I immediately ask him if he means I have a face like Brett Favre's butt - because that's a compliment! That makes Eli mad. But it's true!

Hello Peyton Manning fans. Hmm. Well. I've got something kind of funny to say. And I don't mean funny in the funny way. I mean in the non-funny, sort of gay way.

My arch nemesis Tom "Dick Lips" Brady hurt his baby kneecap and is out for the season. This is good news. High fives all around. But here's the funny part. I feel funny inside. Queer bait funny. Sure, he was my starting quarterback for my fantasy football team, and now what the hell am I supposed to do - put in Eli?

But it's more than that. I sort of - I don't know - wonder, hmm, let's see, what is this feeling? I ... uh ... I feel like I'm throwing rocks at that neighborhood kid hiding in the bushes across the street, only to find out he already went inside. I sort of feel like I'm waiting for Eli to get home so I can fart on his head, only to find out he's out of town for the next week. I sort of feel like I'm having morning sex with Ash, but when I ask her if it feels good I realize she has fallen back asleep.

I sort of feel ... empty inside.

Dude! My fantasy football league did its auto-draft and my team is so stupid! At quarterback, I got Tom "Dick Lips" Brady. I'd bench the dumb, good-looking bastard, but guess who my back-up quarterback is? Yep - Eli "I'm a Dork Who Gargles Dog Balls" Manning. Do you have any idea what it's like to get your terd-face little brother as your back-up fantasy quarterback?

Dear Media Buttwipes:

Here's an idea: How about you all shut your pie holes? I'm gosh darn sick of you asking me questions about my hurt knee. Just sick of it!

But if you really are interested in my life, I've got some scoops for ya:

- I'm getting ready to take a huge dump in Eli's bathroom. We're talking terd snake so long it's gonna stick out of the bowl! And if you think I'm flushing, you really are dumber than you look.

- When Eli was 7, he took a dump the cat litter box. Momma made him scoop it out. (Now that's a scoop for ya!)

- Ash says I have a big donk. But I think she's lying, because I have seen my donk compared to others in the locker room. Maybe this calls for an investigative piece?

News item directed at NBC: I am tired of looking at Michael Phelps' pecker.

Who's with me? The guy is, like, a good swimmer, OK? But, Jimminy Crickets, that doesn't mean that, while recovering from my injured knee and watching 24-hour coverage of the Olympics, I want to be forced to look at the outline of that kid's donk in one of those disgusting Speedo suits every three minutes.

This touches on a common issue in sports: The Pecker Issue. Daddy always said to me, "Son, seeing a man's pecker is just a part of sports." And I get that. When I see a man's pecker in the locker room, I hit him with a rat tail or I give him a noogie.

Right now I am visiting my brother Eli at his training camp (cause he totally wanted to steal more of my skills) and I am having the time of my LIFE! Now, I’ll be honest, it’s not as big or crazy as New York City, Chicago, or Indianapolis but it’s different, and that makes it so awesome.

“Looks like History. Feels like a vacation” Damn straight Albany tourism council. I’m having fun and learning at the same time. The shakers that helped build this city were an industrious and motivated group … they could have been super bowl champs, if football was around back then.

And the burritos, they’ve been like a touchdown in my mouth. Bomber’s Burrito Bar is sooooo good. Like seriously, as much guacamole and sour cream as you want. I go there three times a day.

Oh, and I went to this museum and I took a guided tour around downtown. I have a million pictures too, it’s just annoying to get em off the camera you know?

Oh, Oh, Oh, I almost forgot. I got a sweet massage and sauna thing at the Complexion’s Spa. I felt like a woman, but it felt kinda awesome.