Chad Johnson Hopes To Make Us Even More Miserable

There is a laundry list of side-effects that come with being a Browns fan. For example, many Browns fans suffer from sleep disorders, primarily the one in which we wake up screaming in the middle of the night. We experience episodes of delusion, generally between August and September, followed by a solid four-month spell of depression. Sometimes we urinate or defecate while still wearing pants for absolutely no reason at all. Well, that might just be a personal thing. Stop judging me!

Anyway, I was in a temporary delusional state this morning and decided to collect some Browns/Bengals insights and determine what the keys to victory were this Sunday (looks like we're going to need a little fairy dust, some Jesus hair, a warlock and some inexplicable mass-ankle spraining accident to occur in the Bengals locker room). That's when I noticed that Chad Johnson had renewed his pledge to leap into the Dawg Pound this Sunday after scoring a touchdown.

Know what's even better? I also heard that he bought a bunch of tickets for his friends to sit there, so it looks like Cleveland loves Chad Johnson.

Which reminds me of another Browns Fan Side Effect: fits of unadulterated, apocalyptic rage. I mean, REALLY?! Isn't there anyone more currently miserable that you could pick on, Chad Johnson? Why don't you taunt an entire pediatrics burn unit? Throw eggs at the nice people in the old folks home? Fart on a freshly-orphaned baby deer? God, you're a dick.

Okay, so here's my suggestion. Nobody sit in the first two rows of the DawgPound. If you happen to have tickets to one of those seats, don't worry. I will share my seat with you. Okay, so it's settled. No one is sitting in the first two rows. Well, maybe Chad Johnson's friends, but they won't be there for long.

Next, we take the entire contents of every Muni Lot port-a-let and spread a thick layer of nastiness across the first two rows. At last Sunday's tailgate, the pile of human waste in each port-a-let had grown so high that it actually stuck out above the toilet hole. And people were still waiting in line for twenty minutes to use them! Seriously, all I did was glance at the filth mountain and I got syphilis.

Following his touchdown, Chad Johnson will sail into a lagoon of bratwurst flavored puke, doody and urine. Besides immediately contracting syphilis, he will also throw up in his mouth, and sprain his ankle. WHO'S LAUGHING NOW, CHAD?? NOT YOU, BECAUSE YOU'RE CHEWING YOUR OWN VOMIT!





I think I just made myself sick. No surprise. Nausea is a common side effect of being a Browns fan, too.