#iHate the New England Patriots

Hate is a strong word.  But I hate the New England Patriots.  Pacifically, I hate Tom Brady and Bill Belichick.  I know I’m being petty right now, but (in my Samuel L. Jackson voice) it’s just the way I feel.  Words cannot express how unbelievably overjoyed I am that I don’t have to watch them play anymore football this season.  I can’t deal with liars.  And #iHate cheaters.  And those boys are both.  Through and through.  Since Peyton’s a Vol, I’m obviously biased toward him and the Broncos winning it all.  And the fact that I had the chance to meet him with Donald Curtis in the Chattanooga Airport several years ago (he was traveling solo like a G) gives me even more reason to pull for him (he seemed like a great dude).  But whether it’s Old School Manning or New School Cam, I’m just elated that I don’t have to watch the boys from Beantown play.  I would very literally rather attend a Donald Trump rally with my friends Jesus Martinez and Abdul Shaheed than to see the Patriots even compete for another Super Bowl.  And while you’re thinking it, yeah, you’re right.  I sure do hate them more because of how much they’ve won.  So what.  I understand and respect their greatness.  But that surely doesn’t mean I have to like them.  Hating them makes my heart happy.  And, (in my Young Jeezy voice) I love it. 






Don’t forget to pick up a copy of #iHate Mondays,  the book at:



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