You can buy me these or these or these.

A new football league? Really? Well...I guess that will be ok.

But I'd rather have this.

Labels: buy my love, mark cuban

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 the only member of AC Milan that scored yesterday, Filippo Inzaghi.


Dear Pippo,

So you scored twice yesterday...wanna score twice again today? How 'bout four times? I'm good to go.


So...you're a striker? That's funny, we have so much in common! I'm a screamer!



On your knees, huh? Man, we DO have a lot in common...

Love,

Lauren
xoxo

Labels: love letters

NSFW if you can't watch Girls Gone Wild type videos in your place of business:



He's only there for like 2 seconds, but looks goofy as hell for those 2 seconds. According to Youtube this was uploaded June 20th. And as far as I can tell from my extensive research dickin' around on the internets, this isn't the latest CNU party for The Big D.


[Youtube]
[College Nights Uncensored]

Labels: dirty dancing, hos, tony romo, youtube goodness

Labels: dumb fans, nba playoffs, spurs

This past weekend I made my way to a Fort Worth Cats game. Minor league baseball at it's finest.

Ah the Ft. Worth skyline at night.
The game was great because of these things:

1) Way cheaper tickets than MLB games
2) The game time entertainment
3) One of the Cats at bat songs was Tool's "The Pot"
4) Beautiful LaGrave Field (the last time I was there was when Mandy and I attended a concert that featured the surviving members of Great White)
5) The heckling

I haven't gotten to experience good heckling in a little while either, so this was a long time coming.

I set my sites on the third baseman for the Omaha Saltlicks. I had forgotten to get a roster before the game so I had to resort to just calling him Third Base. And believe me folks, there is nothing more intimidating than a five foot girl in black Chuck Taylor's and a pink little league shirt drunkenly screaming, "Thhiiiiiiirrrrdddd baaaaaaaassssssseeeeeee!!!!!" every chance she could. I did finally get his attention by the end of the game. He just looked up at us shrugged his shoulders. I think he really was confused as to why the short, stacked girl with the "way to proud of Texas" baseball cap on was yelling at him.

My party was conveniently just a stones throw away from the visiting teams seating section. So when the Cat's mascot, Dodger, went to silly string one of the player's moms I was in earshot when I yelled "PUNCH HER IN THE FACE DODGER!" Or the section favorite "Ole ole ole ole!"

There's dodger, just encouraging me. Don't encourage me Dodge, it just makes it worse.

The only downsides to the game were:

1) Losing. By a lot.
2) $5 a beer, GOOD GOD.
3) Having to pretend like I knew all the words to "Put me in coach" even though I was far too drunk to remember them
4) The old people at the game judging me when I yelled profanities
5) Trying and failing at starting the wave
6) Being the only one in the section to do the YMCA a la Brady Quinn

Go to a minor league game. Get drunk, and yell at the players. Because much like this diagram explains, baseball games and beer (and me) make any situation better. Hooray!



That yellow section is where you want to be.

EDIT: They are not the Saltlicks, they are the Saltdogs. My drunk ass kept referring to them as the Saltlicks during the game, and I guess I did a good job convincing myself that that was their real name.

And the super hot 3rd baseman was Jay Yaconetti. It should be noted that he received the majority of the heckling because he had such a fine ass. Love them baseball pants.

Labels: adventures, baseball, drunk

We haven't had a Becks/P33n/Beck's P33n post in a while...time to fix that.

So good looking. Even blond. I loves it.


I really have a hard time finding anything wrong with him. Well, except for the fact that he is married with children. Double whammy. All hot athletes should be single and childless for my convenience.

Labels: becks, hot, junk shot, peen

Arlington isn't known for that much. I mean, yes, yours truly was born here (and that should be enough for you), and the Rangers play here. We have an amusement park...a University...but other than that...not so much. Hell, when I went away to school in another part of Texas other students who call this great state home had never heard of Arlington.

But now we can finally say that we have something to look forward to: We got the Super Bowl!

Wooo!

"This is going to be a wonderful, wonderful event," Cowboys owner Jerry Jones
said following the announcement. "The Super Bowl asked us to do what we could do
to take it to another level. When you're talking about a Super Bowl, that's a
pretty challenging commitment."

It's a challenge that I'm sure the city of Arlington will be up to. I mean, have you seen our 4th of July parade? No? Well, it kinda pw0ns.

I'm gonna go ahead and jump on that Ebay to get my "Take me to the 2011 Super Bowl" page going.

[Source]

Labels: buy my love, super bowl, the future lauren yes all the way to the year 2011

No, not baseball season. Not football season...not hockey...not golf...WEDDING SEASON.

This little lady already has a full June booked up. I've been to Bed, Bath and Beyond so much I might as well work there.

My invitation must still be lost in the mail for the Hawk-Quinn wedding. Good thing pictures of it were posted on The Big Lead today. By the way, the Quinn is Brady Quinn's sister, Laura, and the Hawk would be AJ Hawk of the Packers. (Only a year older than me. Yikes.)

Aw, the happy couple. And the hideous bouquet. Well congrats to Laura on snagging her $37.5 million dollar hubby. So what if he looks like a creature from some sort of lagoon, money does buy happiness people.

The wedding had it all: a bag piper, a Gaelic singer, a God awful off-white dress (at least she's honest) with ruffles and tiers down the back (tiers belong on a cake, honey), and a closeted future quarterback for the Browns dancing around like one of the village people.


I can only hope that one day my brother does that at my wedding to a professional athlete.

Also, in case your invite ended up with "Return to Sender" stamped on it you can still get them something off their registry here.

Too bad someone beat me to the Elegant Heart Bundt Pan and the Yankee Candle Housewarmer Country Linen 10-Ounce Tumbler Accent Candle. Damnit.

[The Big Lead]

Labels: brady quinn, horrible weddings, light in the loafers

It's a throw back to the summer of 2004. And man do I love me some swimmers.


Pieter van den Hoogenband





Yes ma'am.

Labels: panty creamer

You may have noticed that there hasn't been much posted lately. Call off the search party, we're still alive.

I've been a busy gal the past week but I am gonna turn that around starting today. I know I've been neglecting you, and I don't mean to. I was driving the other day and our song came on the radio. I had to pull over. I couldn't take it anymore. I miss your smile. I miss your eyes. I miss your smell. Can't we go back to how we used to be? Yes, yes we can. I'm not gonna ignore you anymore. I'm gonna make you feel pretty again. You deserve it, baby. From this moment on things are going to be different. I vow to never let this happen again...until the next time it happens and I find a way to blame it on you.

Now, let's have some makeup sex.

Labels: back in the saddle

Didn't he?

He got the MVP. And it's bittersweet.

But like any devoted girlfriend fan, I am nothing if not damn happy about it.

Say what you want.

Dirk has my heart and your just jealous.


[Source]

And someone else who has my heart is one of our super hot readers, JP, for getting us the link before anyone else.

Labels: lauren's future husband, mavs, mvp

Dear HBO,

I got a bone to pick with you. I am what you might describe as perturbed.

You know your latest commercial for Sex and the City? The one that interrupts my Food Network Challenge: Wedding Cake Surprise? The one that shows the girls ditching the guys to watch DVDs of the show? Then at the end someone says something about the DVDs and the screen says “It’s like football for women?”

Yep. That’s the one.

Just to clarify: For some women (and I realize it’s a tiny amount) FOOTBALL IS LIKE FOOTBALL for us.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m a huge fan of the show. Huge. I love watching it and drawing comparisons to my life and obsessing over them and analyzing them and trying to figure out which one of the four I’m most like that week. I had my “I’m a Samantha” key chain. I am among the masses of females that relates to many of the episodes (the “You’re girl is lovely, Hubble” episode…Oh my God. It’s like it was written for me).

But I also went hoarse the last time I went to a football game. I would trade my house for some kind of miracle to turn back time and get the Mavs back in the playoffs. I would rather be at a sports bar drinking a pitcher of something frosty and rooting for whatever team is on the screen than be anywhere else (well besides being in the crowd for said event). I spend my time writing on a sports blog for crying out loud.

You see, you’ve got it all wrong HBO. I was in the SATC fan club. But you crossed a line. A sports line. In my heart.

Football is Football. Don’t fuck with that.

OkIloveyoubyebye,

Lauren


PS- The commercial is almost as bad as that one for Wal Mart that had the girl bringing the guy to her house for the first time and he sees that she has 4 TVs and asks her why. She responds with something like so she can watch 4 different sports at once and he in turn gets down on one knee and proposes. This angers me. This does not happen. If it did happen, Mandy and I would get a lot more proposals than we already do.

Labels: open letters

[I can has cheezburger]

Labels: hilarity, kittah, nfl

"The display of the Oscar De La Hoya video, currently located on your site Girls Gone Sprots, is a violation of Funny or Die, Inc.'s copyright of this content. Please remove all instances of the video from your site immediately. Failure to promptly comply with this request may result in legal action.

Thanks in kind.

Funny or Die

Hurbadur. Sad face. No more video. Girls Gone Sprots don't want no video mama drama.

Thanks for spelling or site name wrong, Funni or Dei.

[Funny or Die]

Thanks to reader Trenton for sending this our way.

Labels: fighting, hilarity

SCENE: Lauren wakes up from a High Life induced coma on a chaise lounge in her backyard. She passed out from heavy drinking at 9pm last night. She is awake now and a bit disoriented.

Lauren: Hey guys! How 'bout them Mavericks! Wooo! All they way baby, all the way!

Friend #1: Uh, Lauren. I don 't know how to tell you this...I'll try and put it gently...they got raped last night. Bent over a table, no lube, raped.

Lauren: (In disbelief) No..no...no...you're wrong. They won. I remember. Game 7 in Dallas...this Saturday...you're wrong...

Friend #2: I'm sorry hun. But it's true. You passed out in the backyard last night before the game started. We hated to wake you because we feared the High Life and Mav loss rage you would be in.

Friend #1: Yeah. We went ahead and removed all beer bottles from the house so you couldn't use them against us.

Lauren: (Now quietly sobbing) Why...why would they do this to me? I feel like I've just had my heartbroken...

Friend #1: Yeah, fuckin' sucks. Sucks to be a Mavs fan. Sucks to be YOU.

Lauren: Harsh dude. Harsh. Why are you still in my house?

Friend #2: I had to have someone help me remove all sharp objects and things that could be turned into a noose from the premisis. We don't trust you Lauren.

Lauren: Man. This is the worst feeling. I feel like someone ripped my heart out and stomped on it. And then yelled "Go Warriors!" as I died.

Friend #1: Ha ha. MAVERICKS! MELTDOWN!

Lauren: (In a rage) DUDE! Seriously. I'm kinda upset here.

Friend #1: MAVERICKS! MELTDOWN! DIRK FOR MVP! HAHAHA! LOSERS!

(Lauren who has now noticed that her friends have forgotten about the empty beer bottle she keeps in her sock at all times reaches down and grabs the bottle before her friends can stop her. She breaks it on the coffee table and quickly slashes the throat of Friend #1. In an attempt to stop her, Friend #2 gets cut ugly and runs away screaming.)

Lauren: (covered in blood) Oh God...what have I done? What have the Mavericks done?

AAAANNNNNDDDDD scene.

Labels: heartbreak, mavs, putting those honor thespian skills to work, scene

Brodie Holland

Never heard of him. But reader tips for Panty Creamers are always welcome.

Plays in the AFL. Hell, he could play the quiet game for all I care.

EDIT!: Plays for the Australian Football League. Not the Arena Football League. I was a little too busy picturing him tied to my bed to do any sort of research.

Labels: panty creamer

Okay Mavs fans. It's time to send all of your good energy to Oakland tonight. They will need it in front of that crowd. Gotta get that game 7...gotta get that game 7. Gotta get rid of The Warrior Baron. I'm sick of that beard.

MS Paint skills courtesy of yours truly

And I'm sick of Stephen Jackson. The Sports Hernia didn't miss a beat with their "Stephen Jackson is Constantly Smelling a Bad Fart" observation. It's so true!

I was all geared up today for school. I had my Dirk shirt on, my Mavs PJ pants (I woke up late, it's finals time and I wanted to be comfy) my Mavs hoodie and a Mavs hat. Just call me Superfan. I'm walking through the parking lot and some guy in a truck drove past me and yelled "GO WARRIORS!" I flipped him off but I really wish I could've caught up with that truck. I would have given him a verbal beat down and perhaps a physical one if I could have found a broken beer bottle.

Come to think of it I probably have one in the backseat of my car...damn it.

If you want some real news about the Mavs check out the Moneyball. Finals (school not NBA) are here and I gotta get all my drinking for the weekend in tonight. Priorities. Gotta have 'em.

Labels: mavs

Now baby what's this I hear about you lacking confidence? Oh don't say those things honey, you know you're the greatest.

Shhhh shhh, don't talk like that. Lauren is here to make it all better. Now you lay your sweet German head on my chest and tell me what I can do to make the bad thoughts go away.

Uh huh...ok...well that's not exactly what I had in mind but if you just want me to rub your neck that's ok. I'm here for you, baby.

Now tonight I really need you to go out there and give it hell. I need that Dirk from last year to kick some exercise equipment and score 50 points. I need you to bitch slap that beard off of Baron Davis' face. I want you to break slabs of concrete with your bare hands for me. Show me that you are all that is man.

I know you can do it baby. I have faith in you. I believe in you. I know you want this as bad as I want it. And if you aren't doing it for me (even though I know you are, because I'm like totally cute and how could you not want to do it for me) do it for Bentley Green and the Mavs #1 fan*. What's that baby? You want me to do an inspirational cheer and bounce up and down for you? Of course I will! Anything for you baby!

Labels: lauren's future husband, mavs

Every week Mandy and I try to send our love out to a very deserving someone. Well something different hap pend this week. Today is my fiery partner in crimes birthday. I was going to put up some ridiculous photo of a cake shaped like a vagina, but stopped when I checked my email.

In my inbox there was a love letter. I wasn't surprised. Readers send us mail everyday telling us how much they love our boobs us. But this letter was different. I could tell it really came from the heart.

So this week instead of a love letter to a hot dude in the sports world, the love letter is to the birthday girl from her one and only true love, Chris Kaman.

My dearest Mandy,

This year on your birthday I really wanted you to realize the love I have for you. It runs deeper than most rivers and is a love so pure and clean it's almost heavenly.

I long for the day when I am able to hold you in my arms and feel your fingers glide through my gorgeous, silky, blond locks. I want to gaze into your beautiful eyes and whisper sweet nothings into your ear.

I've been around the world and met tons of beautiful ladies, but none compare to you. I'm ready to settle down and decided to take you as my wife, partner and friend. We are clearly soul mates put on this earth to find one another. You see my sweet Mandy, I believe in fate. And fate has led me to your beautiful embrace.


I am having a hard time telling you what I feel so I wrote you a song to express some of the emotions I have for you. I hope you enjoy it...

You can't resist me.
I'm in your bones.
I am your marrow
And your ride home.

You can't avoid me.
I'm in the air...
in the air
In between molecules of
Oxygen and Carbon Dioxide.

Only in dreams
We see what it means.
Reach out our hands.
Hold onto mine.
But when we wake
It's all been erased.
And so it seems
Only in dreams.

You walk up to me.
Ask me to dance.
I says, "Hey, baby, I just might take the chance."
You say, "It's a good thing
That you float in the air... in the air.
That way there's no way I will crush your pretty toenails into a thousand pieces."

It's all for you baby.

On this very special day I want you to know that I'm your present. Unwrap me and do as you please.

I have a feeling you're really gonna like this package.

With all the love that I posses,


Snuggle Bunny Kaman







(Uh, wow. Thanks Chris. That was...uh...sweet of you. I'm sure Mandy will totally be into it. I'm pretty sure you didn't write that song though, buddy. )

Labels: mandy's one true love, mandy's sexiness