A Series Of Emails To The Cleveland Browns
Anyone who knows me knows that I’ve got a thing for fucking with people semi-anonymously. Whether it’s over the phone, via email, or via offensive skywriting, if I feel that someone needs to be fucked with you can rest assured that I will do it. One time, in high school, a friend and I spent an entire afternoon getting baked and writing Dear Abby letters that were serious enough to be published, but silly enough that they provided our friends entertainment in the Chicago Tribune for months. That’s how I roll.
Recently, I decided to send an email to the NFL’s Cleveland Browns franchise, proud winners of many trophies (given away on Everyone Wins a Trophy Day). They didn’t respond via email, although it’s possible that they dispatched several large men to answer in person. (I could always thwart them by painting a goal line around my house, though, since they seem incapable of crossing one of those.)
From: Greg
Subject: A Quick Question
Date: October 24, 2012 07:04:51 PM MST
To: The Cleveland Browns
Dear Cleveland Browns,
Is it hard to play football while wearing a tampon?
Sincerely,
Greg
From: Greg
Subject: Re: You Playing Like A Bunch Of Girls
Date: October 25, 2012 10:44:06 PM MST
To: The Cleveland Browns
Dear Cleveland Browns,
In regard to the email I sent dated October 24th, 2012 in which I insinuated that the Cleveland Browns play football like a bunch of girls on their periods, I’d like to apologize. As I’m sure you are no doubt aware, the NFL is wildly popular and attracts fans of all ages and genders. Sometimes these fans let their love of the game and allegiance to their home team cause them to go too far, to say things that aren’t kind, or nice, or appropriate. After sending my last email, I realized that I had crossed that line myself, and for that I apologize.
Besides, playing football like a girl isn’t even the insult that it used to be. Have you ever seen the Lingerie Football League? I know it’s not as physical as the NFL and the talent level isn’t as high, but those ladies can PLAY! It’s too bad that the LFL doesn’t get more exposure because they’re good! My favorite team is the Chicago Bliss. They’re sexy and they know how to play! If the Browns played the Bliss, how much do you think the Browns would lose by?
Sincerely,
Greg
From: Greg
Subject: I’ll Use Short Words This Time
Date: October 26, 2012 01:31:52 AM MST
To: The Cleveland Browns
Dear Cleveland Browns,
I was thinking about my recent emails to the Cleveland Browns just now and how I haven’t heard back from you, when it dawned on me what the problem might be. The Browns, like any other NFL organization, is staffed by many former football players. Mike Holmgren, for instance, played for USC and later went on to play for the St. Louis Cardinals and the New York Jets before ultimately becoming the President of the Browns. Since football players basically get slapped in the head for a living, assuming that they have the ability to read, comprehend, and respond to an email from a person with an IQ over 60 is probably assuming too much.
Ha! I’m doing it again! That paragraph was way too wordy! Here, let’s try it again:
(Expressive Grunt),
Greg
From: Greg
Subject: A Point Of Clarification
Date: October 26, 2012 09:01:06 AM MST
To: The Cleveland Browns
Dear Cleveland Browns,
A quick point of clarification in regards to my earlier missive in which I equated the Cleveland Browns organization with dog feces, a subtle point which may have been missed by the Cleveland Browns front office. Read this good:
Dog shit bad. Browns are dog shit. So Browns bad.
Got it?
Greg
From: Greg
Subject: Sorry, This Time I’ll Be Nice. Honest.
Date: October 27, 2012 11:14:36 AM MST
To: The Cleveland Browns
Dear Cleveland Browns,
Haha, ok, so I’ve been having a bit of fun at your expense. I’m sure you’re thinking to yourself, “Why can’t people simply appreciate the Browns for their high level of dedication and athletic ability?” or at least you would be if your brains hadn’t turned to mush long ago. What you’re probably really thinking is “Me make boom-boom with pretty lady!” or something to that affect. I can’t say that I blame you.
Anyway, to make it up to you, I’ve decided to offer you some insight that is sure to significantly impact your play calling on both sides of the ball. I don’t want to brag or come across as immodest, but as a student of the game I believe I have come up with something that your staff has somehow managed to miss during their many hours of film study. Ok, ready? Here it is:
You’re supposed to be playing football.
Sincerely,
Greg
Jesus, I need to blast a bowl with you. I predict jail time. Yayyyyyy
Fuck jail, they have the wrong kind of bars in there. Let’s blaze in a country with no laws, like… Syria! Woo-hoo! That would be a fucking BLAST!
Harsh. So, the Browns are not doing too well this season? The last time I followed football regularly, Joe Namath was quarterback for the Jets and OJ Simpson was on his way to being a star player, instead of a punk ass killer.
I sometimes miss giving a fuck about whether my team is doing well or going down the gurgler.
I could’ve written this pretty much any year, and it would’ve been accurate. The Browns suck. The funny thing is, I don’t care one way or the other about the Browns. I could care less about them.
The team I really fucking hate is the Minnesota Vikings, a bunch of ass-ramming pigfuckers who dress like fluffers and play like a bunch of late-stage syphilitics, lurching around the field to the retarded applause of the incredible bunch of half-wits that root for them. I, uh, don’t like them much.
Are you familiar with “Emails From an Asshole?” I think you’d get on well with this guy. http://www.dontevenreply.com/
Oh yeah, funny stuff. Fucking with email is fun & easy. Way back when I used to do this through the US Mail (seriously) and it took forever, but it was still worth it.
One time I made the absolutely ridiculous claim that some barbecue sauce killed my cat in the middle of a seriously long and rambling digression about how difficult it was to get laid when you’re in your 80’s, and how prostitution should be legal for seniors, etc., etc., etc.
They sent me an email claiming that their barbecue sauce was intended for human consumption only, but to their knowledge there were no ingredients in it that would kill a cat. I answered with a TEN page letter discussing how reading Mark Twain gave me the brilliant idea to swing a dead cat by the tail in a graveyard when I was eight, and how I got caught by my Pa, who tanned my hide with a switch, etc., etc. I used every hackneyed old-timer expression I could think of while telling this idiotic story.
They sent me a case of barbecue sauce in reply with a note offering their condolences for my dead cat, Purvis.
Sometimes I’d just send a letter to some random schmuck in some random town, like Walla Walla, WA, whose address I’d get out of a phone book in a library. The letter would just say, “I know!” 4 months later, I’d send another one: “I’m telling!” A few months after that, “We need to meet.” Then I’d never send another fucking word. Hehehe…
Free barbecue sauce – awesome! I’m going to start complaining to liquor stores that their vodka killed my cat…
They never do respond to you…:(
I know. Cowards.