Dear Mavs,

Wow. You've really backed yourselves into a corner haven't you? You should've won tonite. You were leading almost the entire game. You were playing solid D, you were getting lots of rebounds, you were doing a decent job making it to the foul line, and you were getting some nice shots. Until the fourth quarter when you started playing sloppy and turning the ball over every other play and you completely forgot how to drive and opted to put up airballs from 3-point range instead. Now you face elimination at the hands of a team who was just a game away from not even making it to the playoffs. Embarrassing.

So I'm going to ask you to do something for me. Tuesday is Game 5. Tuesday is also my birthday. So how 'bout you don't fuck this up and stay in the series? Given the amount of time I've invested in you this season, it'd be pretty shitty to make a Mavs fan cry on her birthday. It's called giving back to the community.

So win.

Love always (so long as you win),


Mandy

Labels: mavs, open letters

Pat Riley said the Heat were the best team in the league and that they'd be back in the Championship game this year?

Yeah....

Labels: bullshit, miami heat, nba, pat riley

Lauren and I both have a thing for guys with mountain man beards (seriously*), so when we watched UFC 70 (yeah, we watched UFC 70 together...) we were both hella turned on when we discovered Andrei Arlovski. In addition to rocking some awesome facial hair, he's tall, he's built, his ass looks great in spandex, and he'll fucking kick your ass.

We both like it a little rough in the sack and given the amount of sports/bar-related fights we get into we probably need someone who could defend our honor if necessary. I'm pretty sure Arlovski can deliver on both fronts. Particulary the bedroom duties - after all he is sponsored by Condom Depot (kinda NSFW).

He's also nicknamed "The Pitbull," which I don't really understand, but I think might be sexy. Oh, and he's banging this broad right now, which means he likes 'em young and slutty, which is totally where Lauren and I come in.


*but no, we don't think Kyle Orton is hot - so don't even go there assholes

Labels: andrei arlovski, jeremiah johnson beard, panty creamer

*Dwyane Wade's house if for sale if you're interested. In Spider-Man themed bathrooms and giant murals of him, that is. [Luxist]

*First Mavs bloopers, now Lebron James singing Stayin' Alive. Poorly. [The Basketball Jones]

*Awful Announcing found a gnarly high school basketball injury on par with Shaun Livingston's. First you hear it, then you see it. [Awful Announcing]

*Henry Abbott scores an interview with Josh Howard. Highlight: Josh admits he's a midnight toker. [TrueHoop]

*2007's Unsexiest Men in Sports. How is Ronaldinho only #55? [The Phoenix]

*A good explanation of that whole Curt Schilling sock debacle. Or is it desockle? [Larry Brown Sports]

*The L.A. Times single-handedly doubling the number of transsexual professional sportswriters [Deadspin]

*Will A-Rod become baseball's most loved player? [Rumors and Rants]

*This is so something Lauren and I would do. [Wizard of Odds]

*Your weekly Beckham update: he's platinum blonde now and looking gayer than ever [Just Jared]

*Buy Michael Strahan's shit. No? Well, then how 'bout a Red Sox '04 World Series Ring? Only $53,877.77 [With Leather, Sports by Brooks]

*The debate over the hottest girlfriends/wives in sports rages on. [Our Book of Scrap]

*Seung-Hui Cho apparently not a football fan. [The Red and Black]

*Just in time for Cinco de Mustache [WBRS Sports Blog]

*How Matt Millen is preparing for the draft - his top secret draft notes [Ghosts of Wayne Fontes]

*Don't forget kids, it's draft weekend, which means one thing - Mel Kiper! [The Sports Hernia]

Labels: links, phoning it in

*I'm pretty sure Don Nelson drank a fifth or two of vodka in honor of Boris Yeltsin before the game/during halftime. Did you see his hair in the third quarter? Dude was a mess. I bet his breath was flammable. I can't wait until this series is over so Nelly can resume his regular playoff position - drunkenly clinging for dear life onto a guardrail at the Mavs home games as the AAC spins round and round him.

*Did anybody else see Jason Terry playing with his headband covering one eye? Must've been trying out the pirate look. Perhaps he wants to incorporate it into his fashion line.

[*Update: Thanks to the always awesome AA over at Awful Announcing for pointing me to this Jason Terry pic, so that now you’ll all know what the hell I’m talking about. AA has never failed to satisfy a woman.*]

*Mavs were crap from the field, especially behind the arc. (I think they were something like 1 for 16 on 3-pointers. But I don't really know. I'm not a journalist. I don't fact check. I just make shit up.) This was kind of good though, because it made them drive and they racked up the fouls, which lead to the ejections of Baron Davis and Stephen Jackson.

*Davis is a loose cannon. Just look at his beard. The Mavs need to get him riled up again. I see another ejection in his future.

*Dirk played better, but still not like he did in last year's playoffs. I'm expecting a really huge game from him down the line.

*My man Jose Juan got his first playoff minutes. Awww....it's like watching baby's first steps. I'm gonna go write this down in my Baby's Barea's First Year book.

*I'm glad Avery took my advice and went big. My motto is always go big. It's never failed me.

Labels: mavs, nba playoffs, warriors

As females we LOVE sex quizzes. When we have slumber parties all we want to do is rub paraffin wax on each other and have any excuse to gossip about our sex lives. That is, when we aren't too busy having pillow fights and brushing each other's hair!

So of course we totally love Hockey Rant's "Hockey and Sex" quiz.

Here's some of our answers:

What kind of 'look' do you prefer?
1. Girly - Valeri Bure
2. Boyish - Sidney Crosby (Mandy, but she'd rather have Modano)
3. Freaky Foreigner - Alex Ovechkin
4. Rugged Country Boy - Brendan Witt (Lauren)
5. Party Animal - Darren McCarty
6. Metro/Pretty - Taylor Pyatt
7. Professional - Igor Larionov
8. F'Ugly - Mike Ricci
9. Adonis - Jiri Slegr

Your sex life resembles ...
1. Blackhawks - You don't even bother trying
2. Anaheim - Lots of banging and crashing
3. Senators - Can't come through when it counts
4. Predators/Thrashers - Done quickly
5. Stars - Boring and methodical
6. Canucks - Lots of foreplay and lots of overtime (Lauren and Mandy, Oh yeah...BFF's who do everything alike)
7. Maple Leafs - Lots of trying, but no scoring

Your uniform of choice?
1. Red and seductive - Red Wings
2. Sultry Black - Penguins (Mandy)
3. Christmas colours - Wild...unwrap that gift!
4. Boring and generic - Ducks
5. Not tonight, honey! - Sabres
6. Break out the lube - Oilers
7. Leaves you howling - Coyotes (Lauren)

This would have been better if they gave a key to let you know what your answers meant. Someone needs to read a Cosmo.

Thank you to Matt Ufford for sending this our way. Scientists have proven that Matt is the sexiest of the sexy. I'm not sure how they tested it but you can't argue with science. There were test tubes involved. And beakers. Did I mention the test tubes? Science people. Don't argue.

Labels: hockey, quizzes, sex

A crazy loud shout out to Jeremie Poplin and Chris Plank of AM 1430 The Buzz up in OK.

Mandy and I don't mean to toot our own horn, but uh, TOOT TOOT. These studs gave us a shout out during "The Big Show" and it was awesome. I think it's safe to say we owe them a lap dance.

You should check them out because if they like us, then they clearly have good taste.

Sports radio personalities who did something positive for sports bloggers. Amazing!


(it pained me to use that as the title, I'm not a R&H fan)

Labels: flattery gets you everywhere, shout out

It all began with Jeff Reed's dong.

Well, for me at least. I've always been into sports, but I'd never really ventured any further into the blog world than the celebrity gossip circuit until that fateful day when Jeff Reed decided to photograph his penis with his cell phone. It must've been a slow news day and celebrity bloggers everywhere must've erred in judgment when they decided that Jeff Reed was a celebrity on par with their usual fodder, but nonetheless just about every celebrity gossip blog linked up to the Deadspin story. And at long last love. (With Deadspin, not the Reed peen.)

I became a regular Deadspin reader, which then lead me to Kissing Suzy Kolber, The Big Lead, and all the other lovely people who currently grace our sidebar. (Check them out if you haven't already.) And thus Lauren and I decided to create our own sports/humor blog because, well, why the fuck not? All the cool kids were doing it.

We came up with a name and we were trying to decide what exactly we wanted to do with the site when a story hit that we just couldn't let fall through the cracks. It begged to be sent to Deadspin for the world to see. So we started up our blog despite having no idea what the hell we were doing.

And man what a response we got. The hits and the e-mails started pouring in, so we just kept going and things just kept extrapolating. It's been great and we'd like to personally thank everyone who's added us to their blogroll, who's linked our stuff, and who reads our site on regular basis with sexual favors, but unfortunately we just don't have the time or the jaw strength.

On the negative side, because we were in such a rush to put the site together we never got to do an introductory post and we've really just been making up the features (like the love letters and the panty creamers) as we go along. It's still a work in progress. So thanks for putting up with our little experiment and expect some new features and additions to the site in the near future.

The first new addition -- at the suggestion of our fellow ample-chested friend and professional writer (she gets paid to do this!) Andrea -- will be the addition of a Flickr set of fan pics on the sidebar. So send your sexy sports-related pics and/or cleavage shots to girlsgonesports@gmail.com. (Note: Mike Holgrem and Bill Parcells need not apply) We'll probably also have some guest writers boobs appearing on the site soon. Significantly more titties for all!

As it stands right now I spend 11 hours a day dedicated to a job that sucks all the funny out of me and Lauren spends an equal amount of time feeding her crippling addiction to internet pornography, which makes putting up a large number of posts each day next to impossible. But we're currently seeking treatment for Lauren and in just over 2 months I will be blissfully unemployed, so expect a lot more posts from us in the months to come.

And we'll be trying to step up our coverage of the NBA Playoffs as well. Nothing gets us more excited than the NBA Playoffs. We wake up each playoff morning to the strains of Rock ‘N Roll Part II, jump out of bed, rip off our tear-away pants and declare “Oh it’s game time baby!”

So thanks again to everyone for your support and for bearing with us as we try and get our act together. Below we answer some of our most FAQs and Lauren and I each write an introduction for the other, which in retrospect is one of the worst ideas we've ever had. And dear God that's saying something.

1. Are you two actually girls?

Yes, we are indeed of the vaginal persuasion.

2. Are the photos that you post actually of you?

Yup.

3. Are your boobs real?

100% natural my friends. Everything's bigger in Texas.

4. Will you have sex with me?

We'll take it under consideration, but only if you send us n00dz. (However, if you're a panty creamer of the week we waive this requirement.)

5. Do you guys actually write this stuff?

Yes. We each write some of our own posts, and we also collaborate in person or via e-mail while we're at work/school.

6. Whose boobs are those at the top of the page?

A lady's gotta keep some secrets. Cosmo says it makes us alluring.

Mandy on Lauren:

Lauren has quite a storied history in both professional sports and slutdom. After all, she's a direct descendant of Mae Mordabito, the professional female baseball player known as "All the Way Mae." (The one who was dramatized by Madonna in A League of Their Own.) True story* And if Lauren rhymed with “All the Way,” trust me, it’d be her nickname too. Runs in the family.

Aside from sports and whoring it up, Lauren is also interested in stunt car driving. Except she does it on busy suburban streets and I don’t really think it’s intentional. She claims to make Steve McQueen look like a pussy, but in reality she's more likely to make Billy Joel seem like a cautious driver. There’s a reason we posted our funeral plans when we went on that road trip.

Lauren is fueled solely by Miller High Life and is the epitome of class and culture. Provided that class and culture means getting into bar fights with men who are easily twice her size and performing the tambourine at bars with names like Hoots ‘N Hollers.

Despite the fact that the laws of physics will never allow them to consummate their love (she’s 5’0”, he’s 7’0”) Lauren has an obsession with Dirk Nowitzki that borders on unhealthy and has broken several stalking laws. At first it was cute when Lauren would talk to Dirk when he was on TV and pick up her phone during halftime to pretend that he was calling her from the locker room, but when this behavior carried over into the offseason it became a little worrying. When she started regularly wearing lederhosen in an attempt to woo Dirk and constructed a life-size statue of him made out of bratwurst, pretty much all of her friends jumped ship. Except for me. Why I stay, I don’t really know.

And in conclusion, I’d like to preface whatever Lauren has to say about me by making sure that you know that she’s a pathological liar. Lauren’s also the type of person who will trick you into leaving your Facebook account open on her computer and then send people on your friends list messages about how you’ve “finally found Jesus after all these years” and about how “you’ve always harbored a secret crush on them, but didn’t work up the courage to tell them until now.” She’d allege that you deserved it because you went into her Myspace account when she was on vacation in Belize and changed her profile picture to a comprising altered Photoshop image of her in an embrace with another woman, friended her with embarrassing bands and people she hated, and told the creepy guy who’s always had a thing for her that she turned to stripping when she went away to school and offered him a free lapdance, but she’d be lying. That is totally not cool and I would totally not do that.* I’m a notary public in the state of Texas, which means that I swore an oath of honesty. Lauren is a pathological liar who makes bogus accusations against her friends. Believe who you want to believe people.

*not true

Lauren on Mandy:

Mandy is a lying whore. Here's the REAL truth about her...

When I think of Mandy the usual words come to mind: Intelligent (she's smarter than you, deal with it), funny (she has made me do spit-takes in my car while I was driving), and gorgeous (titties, hello). But what I think of most when I think "Mandy" is of her highly publicized love of Ben Rothlisberger (somewhere Chris Kaman is crying).

The extent of Mandy's love goes well beyond her carpal tunnel injury in her wrist from furiously masturbating to her Big Ben fathead. She once told me that she wanted to "ride Big Ben like Barbaro." When he jumped on that motorcycle sans helmet and his face met that ladies windshield, Mandy rushed to be by his side. She was quickly escorted out by police, but that's beside the point.

I also think of Mandy's ability to chug beer. Bitch is fast. Sometimes a little too fast. When she drinks too much she enjoys jumping in the shower with all her clothes on. Yes, you read that right. ALL her clothes on. And sometimes after nights of a few too many Coors, Mandy gets home and thinks her house has been broken into. Not because the window is broken or the police have arrived, but because someone heard her coming to the door and opened it before she got there. And clearly that means breaking and entering.

But after she comes to the realization that her house has not in fact been broken into, she promptly goes upstairs and to take a shower with all her clothes on and fall asleep while masturbating to a picture of Ben she keeps right by her bed.

Labels: the management

As Mandy mentioned below, the Stars are out. Saturday night was just a tease.

Speaking of Saturday night, I got drunk and declared to my friends that if the Stars won I would post something ridiculous that only I would find funny. Well, they didn't win but I'm going to post it anyways.

I don't really care and it makes me laugh uncontrollably.

H is for Hockey, that's good enough for me
H is for Hockey, that's good enough for me
H is for Hockey, that's good enough for me
Oh Hockey Hockey Hockey starts with H

H is for Hockey, that's good enough for me
H is for Hockey, that's good enough for me
H is for Hockey, that's good enough for me
Oh Hockey Hockey Hockey starts with H

The letter L sometimes looks like a hockey stick
A roller skate sometimes looks like ice skates
But they are not as good as ice skates
The moon looks like a hockey puck, but you can't play with it

H is for Hockey, that's good enough for me
H is for Hockey, that's good enough for me
H is for Hockey, that's good enough for me
Oh Hockey Hockey Hockey starts with H
YEAH!
Oh Hockey Hockey Hockey starts with H
OH BOY!
Oh Hockey Hockey Hockey starts with H

It was a lot funnier after those beers. But don't act like next time you've had a pitcher or two you won't stop singing it.

Thanks to:

Labels: dallas stars, kickin lyrics straight to your brain

Man was that anticlimactic.

The Stars came back with a vengeance from an early 3-1 series deficit against the Vancouver Canucks only to end up losing in game 7. Vancouver advanced to the second playoff round and beat Dallas 4-1 tonight ending their playoff run.

But the score makes the game seem worse than it really was since 2 of those points were from empty netters in the final minute of the game as Dallas was trying to scrape their way back into it.

Well, it was an exciting series at least and even though the Stars lost I just want to point out that Marty Turco was definitely not the choke artist that everyone paints him out to be. He finished the series with 3 shut outs and a .952 save percentage, which by the way was better than Roberto Luongo's. So stfu Turco haters. You can't argue with that my friends. And if you want to try, you can argue with my fist.

Here's hoping the Mavs have better playoff luck or else I'm going to have to start watching baseball. Yuck.

Labels: dallas stars, nhl

I hadn't heard much about Tony Romo and Carrie Underwood lately, so I just assumed that she dumped his ass after that whole playoff snap fiasco. But nope, turns out they're still going strong and the two were spotted hanging out at "Dallas's hip Ghostbar" this weekend to celebrate Tony's 27th birthday.


Click here to see the rest of the annoyingly watermarked photos. Ok, first of all, are they "just friends" or getting married? Make up your minds people. And second of all, Ghostbar on your 27th birthday? Lame. That place brings the suck. It is anything but "hip" as we've told you before. C'mon Tony, take a cue from Pacman. You should've been at a gentlemen's club punching strippers and making it rain.

Labels: tony romo

The world now knows of the time I got drunk and picked up a bottle of beer in the parking lot and drank it after a Stars game.

Big time thank you (and maybe a titty flash) to Mr. Irrelevant for including us in his "Out of the basement, onto the game" post.

In case you don't know this is the tale of our favorite in-person sports moment:

Try as we might we never got tickets to the NBA Finals last year, so we made damn sure that we were at the Mavericks home opener against the Spurs this season. Yeah the Mavs lost, but half the fun of the game was heckling the Spurs fans. I got into it with an elderly gentleman, who I completely owned and who had to be escorted out of our section by security. Then after the game we took it upon ourselves to boo and berate every Spurs fan that walked within earshot. That is until we were forcibly removed from the AAC by our male companions, who really didn't want to defend our honor against the hefty Spurs fan headed our way. Perhaps we shouldn't have called her fat. We really should have been ashamed of ourselves, but we knew that somewhere Mark Cuban was smiling.

A close second would have to be the time that Lauren got so belligerently drunk at a Dallas Stars hockey game that she was convinced she was actually at a Dallas Burn soccer game. She wouldn't stop spouting torrents of profanity ("Let's f---innnn go Burrrrnnnn!!!) in front of the children in the neighboring seats and on the way out she decided it would be a great idea to grab a half-drunk beer from the parking lot and polish it off. I'd like to be able to say that I made that last part up, but I definitely didn't. What can I say? We go balls out when it comes to sporting events.

Labels: blogging, drunk, mavs

During halftime last night they showed the Mavs Blooper reel. Here it is for all to enjoy:

(it's only 4 minutes long)




The best part is at the 1:08 mark.

Man, Dirk and I belong together. The Mick Jagger impression is my favorite.

Labels: lauren's future husband, mavs, youtube goodness

The Sports Hernia has offered up possible excuses as to why the Clippers just didn't quite make it to the playoffs.

Among them:

- Kaman too worried about Sam 'Gollum' Cassell trying to steal his 'precious' magnet nuts

But I think we all know the reason why the Clippers didn't make the playoffs. And that reason just happens to be my partner on this site.

You may know her as the other HBIC of Girls Gone Sports, Mandy.

Her undying love for The Kaman proved to be the Clippers Achilles heel. I think you would be distracted too if you had love rays pouring out at you from that crazy red head.

Poor Kaman. He never stood a chance.

Labels: chris kaman, mandy's one true love, nba

When we aren't busy watching countless hours of porn sports and drinking amazing amounts of beer, we (like most girls) dream of that perfect guy out there just waiting to sweep us off our feet...okay, that's a lie. Lemme try this again...


When we aren't busy watching countless hours of porn sports and drinking amazing amounts of beer, we dream of those perfect guys out there just waiting to have amazing sex with us. There. That's more like it. So in the hopes of reeling in one of these fine specimens that we wanna lay we're sending them love letters. This week it's our favorite teenage hockey star, Sidney Crosby.

Dear Sidney,

When you were first drafted it would have been illegal for us (in most states) to have the impure thoughts we have when we dream about you. But now, it's completely fine in the eyes of the law.

Now don't be scared. Mandy and I are just here to teach you the ways of the world. You need experienced women to take care of you. Not only can we show you a thing or two (or 20 or 60) in the bedroom, we can also buy you beer.

I bet you're nervous. It's ok. We're a little nervous too. Just come sit down by us and we'll sing you a little song...

Come to my place
We can talk it over
Oh everything going down in your head
He said take it easy
I need some time
Time to work it out
To make you mine
And just when I thought
He was comin' to my door
He whispered sweet
And brought me to the floor (He said)

I'm only nineteen
You ain't seen love
Ain't seen nothing like me
He's only nineteen
Nineteen

Feel better? Yeah, Winger does that to us too. Now just lay back, and let us take care of you.

Love,

xoxo
Lauren Polanski and Mandy Lee Lewis


[creepy song lyrics provided by Winger]

Labels: love letters, sidney crosby

Everybody's jumping on the t-shirt craze that Wizznutzz started (well, actually I think it was a Beatles shirt first) and goddammit now I want one too. Except instead of the '98 Bullets Bench shirt, I want the '07 Mavs Bench. But not the second team, the deep bench. The guys that only play when we've got a 30 point lead in the 4th or when we've already clinched the #1 seed in the playoffs and have absolutely nothing to lose.

I should probably add Mbenga in there too. He's just so deep (and injured) I forgot he even existed.


Don't even try and tell me I wouldn't be the coolest kid in school with this shirt on.

Labels: nba, random, shirts

Campbell Brown



Known for aggression and toughness. Two things that are needed to be a footballer and two things that are needed when you are ripping my shirt off throwing me onto the bed.

Fact: He wears the No. 30 guernsey
Fact: He attacks shop attendants
Fact: I can stick my entire fist in my mouth
Fact: He received a nomination for the Rising Star award in 2002
Fact: Australian accents will get you EVERYWHERE. (And by everywhere I mean in my pants.)


Now if you'll excuse me, it's about to get quite creamy in here.

[Bio source]
Edit: I don't know what was wrong with that first pic. Too bad we had to go with a smaller one...

Labels: panty creamer

You may have seen other sites touting their mock drafts in preparation for the 2007 NFL draft, but we here at GGS are known for a much more in-depth type of NFL research and analysis. As such, we will be conducting not a mock draft, but a cock draft. So ladies and gentlemen welcome to the first inaugural Girls Gone Sports 2007 NFL Cock Draft.


In the cock draft we don't care about a player's size (except for what's between their legs), skill (except for how they perform between the sheets), or their positions (except the sexual ones). The draft field is full of players fresh out of college, ready to make headlines as criminals, to father illegitimate children, to take pictures of their penises with camera phones, or to punch the occasional stripper. We've tried to cull the very best to create a superteam consisting of hotties, felons, and people we think will be amusing in the years to come. The cock draft rules are as follows:


Other than that there is pretty much no rhyme or reason to this draft. Lauren and I acted as the GMs (the giant mammaries) and we totally disregarded the serpentine and pretty much every other facet of the draft that makes it a draft.


JOSH SWOGGER
QB. Montana . 6'4" 237 lbs.

He's just really fucking hot and his last name rhymes with blogger, which pretty much means that we are meant to be. At least that's our logic.


BRIAN WINGERT
Kicker. Northern Iowa. 6'1" 186 lbs.

He's hot and he's a kicker. We're drafting him because that combination means odds are we're going to end up seeing his penis. Which is something we wholeheartedly endorse.


DEMARCUS "TANK" TYLER
Defensive Tackle/Nose Tackle. North Carolina State. 6'2" 323 lbs.

We're recruiting him to replace Tank Johnson as Roger Goodell will probably be suspending him in the near future. Plus we like people with the name Tank. And we like making fun of fatties. Truffle shuffle Tank, truffle shuffle.


DREW STANTON
QB. Michigan State. 6'3" 235 lbs.


Hot. Moving on.



BRADY QUINN
QB. Notre Dame. 6'4" 240 lbs.

Statistically one of the best quarterbacks ever to play at Notre Dame. Also statiscally one of the hottest quarterbacks in the 2007 draft.



QUINN PITCOCK
Defensive Tackle. Ohio State. 6'3" 301 lbs.

His last name is Pitcock. C'mon.... the possibilities are endless. Y'know you wanna hear marble-mouth Madden try and spew his name out. He'll probably end up calling him cock tip at least once on Sunday Night Football.


JOE NEWTON
Tight End. Oregon State. 6'6" 256 lbs.

He's a tight end with a tight end. Believe me, we spent a lot of time studying photos of his ass in uniform. Time very well spent.



DAN MOZES
Center/Guard. West Virginia. 6'2" 230 lbs.

He's from West Virginia. The same school that brought you such upstanding citizens as Pacman Jones and Chris Henry. He may look like he should be in glee club, but fool is bound to be a badass motherfucker. Roger Goodell ain't seen nothing yet. We predict a headline containing the words "Dan Mozes," "decapitates" and "stripper" in his future.


CHRIS LEAK
QB/Running Back. Florida. 5'11" 210 lbs.

He plays multiple positions. Kind of like Kordell "The Slash" Stewart, but less gay. Or is he?



TOBY KORRODI
QB. Central Missouri. 6'3" 234 lbs.

Toby: "Girls, for the last time my name's Kunta Kinte."

Lauren and Mandy: *cracks whip* "Your name is Toby. I want to hear you say it. Your name is Toby. You're going to learn to say your name. Let me hear you say it. What's your name?"

Toby: "Kunta. Kunta Kinte."

Lauren and Mandy: *cracks whip* "When the master gives you something you take it. We gave you a name. It's a nice name. It's Toby. And it will be your name til the day you die. Now we want to hear you say your name. What's your name?" *cracks whip*

Toby: "It's Toby."


RORY JOHNSON
Outside Linebacker. Mississippi. 6'1" 237 lbs.

We're diggin' the last name, but "Rory" as a first name for a big, burly linebacker? I don't think so. Rory is a name for a lily white Gilmore Girl, not a giant black linebacker. We are drafting you solely to rename you. *cracks whip* "What's your name Toby?"


CHRIS HENRY
Running Back. Arizona. 6'0" 228 lbs.

His name is Chris Henry. And much like the other Chris Henry, he looks like trouble. Time to double the amount of felons in the NFL named Chris Henry. Imagine how confusing that would be. Whenever you hear "Chris Henry arrested" instead of just saying "Figures." you'll be saying "Figures. Which one?"



STEWART BRADLEY
Outside Linebacker/Defensive End. Nebraska. 6'4" 256 lbs.

Check out this nappy-headed ho. He looks kinda like Napoleon Dynamite sans the glasses and the high-waisted pants. But he has hot potential. We're drafting him and making him cut that monstrosity. *cracks whip*


JOHN BECK
QB. Brigham Young. 6'3" 234 lbs.

Hot and Mormon. Which makes it totally acceptable for him to marry the both of us. And why should the NCAA get to bogart all the polygamy stories?


DAN BAZUIN
Defensive End. Central Michigan, 6'3" 265 lbs.

Hot and vaguely reminiscent of Brian Littrell from the Backstreet Boys. Backstreet's back, alright!



WILLIS BARRINGER
Free Safety/Special Teams. Michigan. 5'10" 211 lbs.

Whenever you speak to us we'll just reply "Watchu talkin' bout Willis?" and we'll laugh, and laugh, and laugh. Cuz that's never not funny.


JESSE ALLEN
Wide Receiver. Virginia Tech. 6'0" 247 lbs.

Two words: mustache rides.





Wow, um...looking back we realized that perhaps these weren't the smartest picks. We drafted 6 quarterbacks, no punter, 1 wide receiver and practically no offensive line or defense. Looks like some of our players are going to need to learn some new positions *cracks whip* We're about as qualified to participate in a draft as Matt Millen. Except we have big boobs, which makes us about 100% more qualified.

Labels: nfl, peen

I love it. Andres Nocioni facing off with Blanka. And I just learned that Street Fighter has collectible cards. How do I not own these?

And speaking of trading cards, Our Book of Scrap dropped us a line to let us know that Upper Deck is launching its Spectrum Baseball 2007 cards. Some of the features of the cards are:

Major League Baseball stars: autographed inserts of celebrities from the 1970s and '80s, actors and musicians whose fame -- like the speed of a Maddux fastball, despite his continued greatness -- has arguably faded in recent years.

I'm so excited! There is going to be a Anthony Michael Hall card! That is simply amazing. I am so glad Doug the Stud gave me the heads up. They must know of my undying love for the MAH. Much like my love for the Neil Patrick Harris.

I'm noticing a pattern...the AMH...the NPH...alright another way to my pants heart is have a last name that begins with an H. Man, I'm easy.

*My apologies to Mr. Hall

Labels: links, nerdin' out, random

Because you know I can never get enough Kaman, here's a recent NBATV piece about how Chris Kaman and his team deals with his Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. (So that's why he's been a completely unfocused mess on the court this year??) Take note of the incredibly melodramatic score. It's not cancer NBATV, it's ADHD.





[My Kaman fix was supplied by AOL Fanhouse]

Labels: chris kaman, mandy's one true love, random

When we aren't busy watching countless hours of porn sports and drinking amazing amounts of beer, we (like most girls) dream of that perfect guy out there just waiting to sweep us off our feet...okay, that's a lie. Lemme try this again...

When we aren't busy watching countless hours of porn sports and drinking amazing amounts of beer, we dream of those perfect guys out there just waiting to have amazing sex with us. There. That's more like it. So in the hopes of reeling in one of these fine specimens that we wanna lay we're sending them love letters.


OK, so I was just scrolling through our site and between Paul Casey, David Beckham, shirtless A-Rod, and Rafael Nadal the main page is getting mighty sexy. Too sexy I'm afraid. In order to avert an Eagles of Death Metal-esque "Death by Sexy" situation, I'm going to have to temper all of these sexy posts with one giant dose of fug.

So this week's Girls Gone Sports love letter goes out to Sam Cassell. Sorry to disappoint, but there will be no disturbing sexual innuendo in this love letter my friends.




Dear Sam,

Despite whatever Lauren may have to say about my love for Chris Kaman you are the reason that I watch the L.A. Clippers (my 2nd favorite NBA team). I'm able to overlook your close resemblance to a creature from outer space because you're just so awesome. Maybe it's your game or maybe it's the way you beat up male strippers that makes me love you so much. It's hard to say. But I've been a fan of yours since you were a two time World Champ with the Houston Rockets, as evidenced by this highly embarrassing photo of me at age 11 looking really cute rather butch wearing your jersey next to the "Star of the Week" board in school.

[Editor's note: As you can see, my sexy didn't mature until a much later age. It's amazing what 12 years will do for you. And if I look kinda fat in this picture it's because that jersey was the size of a dress.]

As someone who talks a fair amount of shit herself, I have to look up to a guy who's so dedicated to shit-talking his opponents that he manages to get a costly 8-second violation in a crucial playoff game.

Sam, you're the heart and soul of the Clippers and since you've sat out so many games to injuries this season they've really sucked it up. But you're apparently feeling a little better since you played the other nite and you guys have still got a chance to get that 8th seed, so please, I beg of you, bring your A-game to these last few games, knock the Warriors out and let me have that Mavs-Clippers playoff series that I wanted so bad last year.

Love,

Mandy


Now so I don't completely deprive you of the sexy, here's me my boobs and my autographed Sam Cassell photo and a video of Cassell "bringing sexy back." You know you want it:

[Editor's note: I've willfully obscured his face with the flash so you can concentrate on the titties.]

Labels: love letters, sam cassell

I've been shoveling Peeps into my mouth at breakneck speed since Sunday and as a result I've spent the greater part of the week in a diabetic coma. As recompense dear readers, links:

*A look at the NBA MVP race by the numbers. [Mavs Moneyball]

*Kurt Vonnegut wrote for Sports Illustrated? Who knew? [The Wade Blogs]

*Gary Sheffield's wife got it on with R. Kelly. Predictably, it was videotaped. [Sports by Brooks]


*More fun with NFL Family Circus over at KSK. [Kissing Suzy Kolber]

*Dennis Rodman coaches a dwarf basketball team. [The Basketball Jones]

*Joey Porter apologizes? How anti-climactic. [ESPN]

*Britney Spears is not dating L.A. Laker Luke Walton [We are the Postmen]

*Pacman Jones and Chris Henry as Batman and Robin. [Bang!]

*What Pacman will be doing with his year off. [Lt. Winslow, AOL Fanhouse]

*Jason Whitlock on Don Imus and on the Rev. Al & Jesse Jackson.

Rather than inspire us to seize hard-earned opportunities, Jesse and Al have specialized in blackmailing white folks for profit and attention. They were at it again last week, helping to turn radio shock jock Don Imus’ stupidity into a world-wide crisis

I just find it funny that two guys who won't give anything more than half-hearted apologies for their anti-semitic slurs (see the "Hymie Town" incident or some of Sharpton's comments) have no problem leading a crusade against Don Imus for an off-color remark he's apologized up and down for. (In case you live under a rock, Imus was fired.)

And just because, check out this high school hockey check that shatters the glass:




[Video via AOL Fanhouse]

Labels: links, phoning it in

Those guys are...well...they're something.

I have no idea what "A Fall in Dreamland" is but if you know anything about it drop an email because I am interested.

[Shout out to Walter Melon for sending these our way]

(And the hangover is gone in case you were wondering)

Labels: youtube goodness

I live in the DFW area so my local news is all up on the Samsung 500. Blah blah blah 12 different winners in 12 different races...blah blah blah something about points...blah blah blah Junior...



Alright here's the deal. I'm still hungover from that Stars game I stayed up to watch. I was gonna write a lovely anecdote about how a few years ago I did the Richard Petty driving experience with my dad and brother and how awesome I was at riding in a fast car. But all I really wanna do is eat some greasy food, drink a gallon of orange Gatorade and pass the hell out.

Here just enjoy this picture of Jessica Biel:

I don't mind putting her up on here because Mandy and I both appreciate girls that got that booty booty booty booty rockin' everywhere. Yeah, we got back and front.

Jessica was recently voted Stuff magazine's sexiest woman. They must have missed all your write in votes for me.

Labels: lezzzin out, nascar, phoning it in