Contributing to this week's edition of the Carny Sports Report is Billy Badlands, an employee of Bruno Brothers Traveling Amusements Company:

Billy has been asked to write about several of the recent head coaching developments in the NFL.

So I'm mindin my own business, doin what the hell it is I do. I got me this real ripe rube roped in nice and good. I mean he's wingin softballs around like he was Gaylord Perry on a meth rampage and he hasn't knocked down not one milk bottle. He's already dropped 75 bucks tryin to win him a 5 dollar wall bass that sings "Way Down Yonder on the Chatahoochie" and I can see in his face he ain't gonna stop till he gets it. He's gettin ready to sign over the deed to his double wide for eleven more throws when this long haired shifty eyed squirelly son bitch comes up to me and starts talkin about his blog.

Now I didn't know a blog from a booger sandwich, but judgin on the looks of this guy talkin to me, I reckoned it had somethin to do with traiterous pinko homosexual activity that I wouldn't want nothin to do with. But after he broke it down I figured it wasn't so bad and didn't have much of nothin to do with gayness. It's pretty much just writin about sports and whatnot. He said he hadn't been havin time to write on his blog lately and asked me if I would write some stuff for him about coaches in the NFL and the hirin and firin of them coaches.

Now I don't have a butt load of time to watch sports like all you lazy desk job workin son bitches. The day to day of a carnival hand is hecticker then hell. On a GOOD day the heat lets me sleep till 7:30. Then I usually eat me a couple two day old funnel cakes for breakfast and spend a couple hours smokin before the gates open. Then I usually stay at my post for 13 straight hours. But I do manage to catch some sports from time to time. On my day off last week I sneaked away to watch GLOW live. GLOW stands for Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling for all you sophisticateds who think you too good to watch a couple fine ass ladies in thong one pieces beat each other about the head. And I got me a 12 inch B&W TV in my hitch with coat hanger rabbit ears for recepshion gathering that I got as a special raward from the boss for discoverin that Paco, the kid that mopped up puke in the Gravitron was an illegal. So I'll try and talk about what's goin on in sports as best as I can. And if you don't like it then I can really give a rats ass.

So first off it looks like everyone in Miami has their balls all twisted in a four square knot cause coach of the Dolphins Nick Saban decided to go coach in Alabama. First of all, what in the name of h-e-double hockey sticks happened to Dan Shula? He was coachin up a storm last I knew. Anyway, I guess this Nick Saban took off to Alabama and left all them Miami homosexuals wearin cut off shorts and sippin umbrella drinks with no coach to tell em whats what. All I can say is, how can you blame a man for wantin to go to Alabama? Let me tell ya, I had me some good ass times in 'Bama. Like one time I met me this sweet little mother of four at the West Alabama State Fair in Tuscaloosa, and had me a encounter behind the Tilt-A-Whirl you wouldn't believe. All I can say is she was double-jointed and it was like rompin with a Barbie doll. My buddy Earl said she looked more like a Stretch Armstrong but I don't give a good God dam about that. It was funner then hell and if I was Nick Saban I would be packin my bags for Alabama faster'n you could say "put them ankles behind your head Misty Sue."

Then I heard the Atlanta Falcons fired their coach Jim Mora Jr. because he went on radio sayin he wanted to take another job. Now I don't know this Jim Mora Jr. from Billy Badlands Jr. (I don't know him neither, despite the $32.70 in yearly child support), but he must be one simple minded son bitch. Trust me theres particular jobs that require you have some sensitivity and tactfullness. Like for exxample when I first got my start with the carnival I was given the deleckit task of workin the weight gessin booth. Now if that ain't a job just drippin' with danger then you tell me what the hell is. I'm standin there when all of a sudden some rube comes struttin up with his girlfriend what looks like post 68 comeback special Elvis Presley and asks me to guess her weight. So I have to get my mind workin fast as hell to come up with the right answer, or I'm riskin getting a switchblade buried handle deep in my gonads. I have to look at her and say she's 110 pounds when I know her moustache weighs at least 40 on its own. Sometimes this carnival work ain't no picnic at all. But anyway, this Jim Mora, Jr. shoulda known better. He deserves to be lookin for work but I got some advice for him. Don't come sniffin around the Bruno Brothers Traveling Amusement outfit for gainfull employing. We got ourselves a hiring process here that weeds out shiftless traiterous weasels. All I can say is two words: Chinaman water torchure.

Last but not least, some Dennis Green guy got fired by the St. Louis Cardinals for no other reason then he pretty much sucked harder than my Aunt Lucy (don't get all pissified about that coment neither. shes my aunt twice removed, so it's ok). My answer to this one is who cares. It's bad enough that these Cardinals is so big for they britches that they play two damn sports, but they won the friggin World Series of baseball last year! How much is gonna be enough for you Cardinals? Thats like if I went out and tried to get a job dancin on the trapese in the circus after carnival season was over just cause I could. First of all I wouldn't never do that cause circus folk is a bunch of inbred motherless commie punks I took a blood oath to hate for the rest of my days, but second of all I wouldn't do that cause I don't need to show off all the damn time like a friggin wombat on a tricycle. My advice to the St. Louis Cardinals is to stick to damn baseball and stop tryin to be like that one kid on the playground who always wips out his dong just to show everyone he's got the biggest one.

By the way, I ALWAYS had the biggest one. My dong is a family hair loom.

That's it for me. I got more important things to do then sit around pushin buttons on one of these tiny little travelin computers. I just found out that my buddy Dale was cleanin out the prize storage trailer and came across a case of "Not My President" bumper stickers left over from the Clinton years. We gotta burn them things before they get in the wrong hands. If you're gonna be at the Hallard County fair next week stop by the milk bottle knock down and say howdy, especially if youre a 4 H girl. You my favorites.

**All contributors to the Carny Sports Report receive an ice cold sixer of Pabst Blue Ribbon and a gift certificate to Willy Joe's Crystal Meth Emporium.