A morbid sense of reality.

Queen E. has been on my mind more than usual lately.

It is time for her unveiling and I need to encapsulate her life in 3 lines.

Her essence is way more then a mere scattering of words.

I will rise to the occasion.

It looks like I need to eulogize another entity.

The NY Giants are dead to me.

We have had a deep relationship for decades.

I used to think love meant never having to say your sorry, but I must now push back.

The Giants suck…plain and simple.

They are robbing me of my Sundays.

You cannot fix this team.

The coaching staff is incredibly inept, the offensive game plan uncreative and the head coach believes firmly in plausible deniability.

The defense can’t stop anyone and the secondary covers receivers like they have lice…keep them at a distance so the defenders don’t become infected.

The offensive line is as porous as Agent Orange’s brain.

Quarterback Danny Dimes ain’t worth a nickel.

Two of my greatest loves lost to me.

I yearn for the old days when Giants roamed and intimidated the gridiron and Queen E. ruled the roost.