I let the weekend go by hoping that things would settle down, but they haven’t. Unless you were on an Olivia cruise (and probably even then, since they have to have a sports bar somewhere on that boat) you know that the Philadelphia Eagles have picked up the convicted dog-killer felon, Michael Vick. It’s a real fucking problem for me here in the City of Brotherly Love. Here’s why:

I’m a Cowboy’s fan…born and raised so it’s in my blood. My girlfriend is an Eagle’s fan…she’s also a Jersey girl, but let’s not open up that can of worms right now. Usually right about now we start talking about which one of our teams is going to win football games, and there is betting involved. Bets that involve me getting my back massaged, my car washed, my favorite dinner cooked for me…you get the idea, right? I don’t have to go all XXX on you, do I…

Well, all that’s off the table because she and I are super huge animal lovers and want to throw up every time we think of that trash looking for houses in our neighborhood. I really don’t care if he’s paid his due, or done his time, or deserves a second chance. As far as I’m concerned, it should be a privilege to play for the NFL, and people like him, Donte Stallworth and a whole lot more should be kicked the hell out—permanently.

Plus…now I don’t get to have any fun ribbing any of my Eagles friends, or getting sensual massages or car washes from my girlfriend. We all just don’t want to see that guy with football pads on. Damn, this sucks.

Seems like the entire city feels the same way. Signs warning to “Hide your Beagle, Vick’s an Eagle” are popping up and pet shops are having bonfires to burn Eagles garb. I wonder what will happen halfway through the season, though. Will these fans stay true to their convictions to shun their team in protest, or if Vick throws a pass that puts the Eagles in the playoffs then burns 15 baby poodles on Broad Street will people raise him on their shoulders? Tough town… tough crowd. Only time will tell.