recipe for a good time.

It starts with bacon. Bacon grease, actually.

Next, you’ll need an NFL quarterback, like, say, Michael Vick. Yeah. Vick would be perfect.

Okay. So then we fry up the bacon and give it to a homeless guy. [Or woman. I’m no sexist, so stop looking at me that way. I think homeless women can fight just as hard as homeless men in those DVD's.] My thinking is that the bacon shouldn’t go to waste.

Next, we take the bacon grease and run it through Michael Vick’s hair. That’s right. We take that bacon grease and run it right through those fashionable-ass corn rolls. [And let me tell you, corn rolls are always fashionable-ass.] Anyway, we run that bacon grease through his hair and take him somewhere nice. Like, say… oh, I don’t know… inside a dog-fighting pit. Yeah. That’d be nice.

Okay, after that, we get some dogs. Real mean, hungry pit bulls. Pit bulls that don’t watch football. I’m thinkiiiiiing… let’s go with six. Y'take those six pit bulls and put 'em in there with our buddy, Michael. 'Cause I think Michael Vick should enjoy some down time with vicious pit bulls. I mean, why not? He enjoys them — or so I've been lead to believe.

The only thing left to do is crack open an ice cold Pabst Blue Ribbon, make up some of your sister’s recipe for seven-layer dip, and let the laughs begin.

Michael Vick deserves this and so much more. He deserves jail time. He deserves massive fines. He deserves to be someone’s bitch. He deserves bad karma. In his next life, he should end up a dog in a fight, organized by a dumbass NFL quarterback.

Now, I was tempted to show you what a dog on the losing end of a fight looks like, so you could be witness to evil. Why sugarcoat it, right? But I figured you were already subjecting yourselves my bullshit, so why add to your pain? Besides, you can find a number of the aforementioned images online, so just Google “pit bull” if you have the stomach for it. Be prepared to see a dog’s face being held together by medical implements. Be prepared to see skin and fur torn away along the scalp. Be prepared to be completely disgusted. Be prepared to hate Michael Vick. [Mind you, I'm a Steelers and Notre Dame fan. I've always hated Michael Vick.]

If you ask me, I’d say it’s an open and shut case. If the NFL brings him back this season [make no mistake — the players union won’t allow him to be banned permanently] they should keep this in mind: before he decided to kill little Filipino boys, Jeffrey Dahmer killed animals. Michael Vick decided it was okay to hang or electrocute the losing dogs in his little enterprise. Maybe if Jeff had been drafted in the first round he — and those boys — would be alive and well today. Maybe his life wouldn’t have been filled with so much despair and loneliness that his little psychopathic hobby would have run its unnatural course and diminished. Or maybe the closest he’d come to hurting an animal would have been kicking the pigskin.

And yes, I know i'm a hypocrite because I love my Thanksgiving dinner as much as the next omnivore, but in my mind there's a difference between food and sheer cruelty. Though, many would argue that I'm way off base.

One thing I do know is that Vick needs help. Eh. On second thought, maybe we should just get started on that recipe.