Somewhere, right now, Patrick McGillicuddy is in his cave, pacing back and forth in the darkness, blinded by tears and rage that he’s not at his bazillionth parade of his lifetime. Hes like fucking Puxatawny Phil rearing his ugly head in the middle of February. The Pats fans were ready to take him out of his hole but the Eagles saved the world and so New England crams him back under the bridge from whence he came and wait like 6 more weeks before one of their other fucking teams start another championship run. He sits there chained to 5 Lombardi trophies, kept at bay for at least another sports season, foaming at the mouth to attend another sports parade with his dumb fucking sign and his empty, soulless eyes staring at me through the camera lens.
Fuck you, pal. Today is not your day. Today belongs to this guy. Today belongs to Angelo McPhillicuddy. 33 years old, 2 Parades. Clocking in at a cool 16 and a half years in between championship parades. Angelo has spent all 33 years on this planet living and dying with the Iggles. If the Birds lost this game he would have gone ahead and drowned himself in the Schuylkill River. He would have wudder boarded himself if Tom Brady completed yet another comeback. McPhillicuddy couldnt even enjoy the Villanova championship because hes a Drexel alum. The Jimmy Rollins shirsey he used to sport for the last decade is faded and tattered. He probably just got out of jail from looting during the Super Bowl celebrations. You can still smell the shit on his breath from Sunday. He needed this. Angelo McPhillicuddy DESERVED this. He’s earned the right to stand next to 4 million other animals and watch this parade. That sick little emotionless sociopath up in Boston could use a little disappointment in his life. Not today, McGillicuddy! Not today! This one is for Philly!
PS – I love Angelo McPhillicuddy SO GODDAM MUCH. Hit me up. Free t shirt for you.