Quarterback LessonS

The Internets First Ever Starting Quarterback 

​QB Lessons in McKinney in Dallas will teach you about what is inside you. Listen to the quarterback coach in McKinney in Dallas. Trust your quarterback lessons in McKinney in Dallas. I was watching the movie Anaconda last night, and the guy goes to scuba dive and cut the rope tangled in the boat motor. They can't go anywhere until he cuts this rope off the propeller. This guy has a lot of guts to take this task on. Wants to save the day and help the team make it home. But Jon Voight put a wasp in the guy's snorkel gear. And when the guy breathed the Wasp was sucked inside, into his mouth and stung his toungue. We can't just have snakes fucking killing people. Its the jungle guys. You've seen naked and afraid. Insects too. So it swelled up his throat. Ice Cube dived in the water and saved him from thrashing around trying to breath. They get him on the boat. He is almost dead from the lack of oxygen. Jon Voight took an unsterilized knife he uses to peel cumquats from the jungle trees and slice oranges, stabs the guys neck, a small hole in his trachea. He puts a burger king straw from the sausage egg and cheese croissants they picked up before heading down the Amazon river, right into the guys neck. And he can breath again. Because the hole is before his tounge. Jon killed and then saved the guy, but really just wants to catch the Anaconda to get a million dollars. Like how your grandma is always buying lottery tickets and in Chicago there economy is so badly run you aren't even guaranteed to collect your winnings. Known fact, and Kayne is pissed. Jon thinks he has a winning ticket and nothing will stop him. Not Rahm Emmanuel. Obama's boyfriend Michael. Only Jennifer Lopez at the end. He almost had it in him to pull it off too but the future is female. What happened in Jon's life that he got to be 50 years old, moved to Paraguay and decided his only option is to catch a 60 foot anaconda for money. Ask John MacAfee. Some people think better while walking in nature on trails, and some while trying to be the best at exercising. The movie W where George Bush goes on a run, and pauses in the middle of the woods with all the trees staring at him and his life's decisions. Its time to grow up and be a man, to be a redwood W. Like us. Like your dad. Big tall trees that last forever. and tower over others.  People pay tickets to ride trains through us in San Fernando Valley- W. They might say he can't see the forest through the trees. Unless you are jogging inside that forest. And you run up on the orgy from the crucible. What the fuck is going on here? Alex Jones we were just discussing politics and worshipping an owl near a huge bomb fire in what Richard Nixon described the most faggot event he had ever personally seen. Impeach his ass. He is not one of us. Right, Newt. What if that C on your captain jacket was really just a Crucible pennant you had to wear around the locker room to let everyone know you were going to tell on them to coach and fuck their careers up. Like Dane Todd yelling at folks during Sunday conditioning after a loss at Texas Tech. Dane- Elon Callahan is the one who called an out route on fourth and eight not fucking me. Go ask the video guys who rigged all of our shoulder pads like the Obama administration with microphones to listen to us concentrate during the games, and when I accidently said that about Bill, and the camera guy said you probably shouldn't call the head coach a moron while wearing a wire. Someone tell that to Michael Cohen. Just tossing ideas out there. You want to know where you get the most throwing reps. This red foam football I had as a kid. It had yellow laces. I had this unique set up in my dining room and living room. Where I had space to drop back near the dinner table, and it was roughly 15 yards to the corner of this long white couch. The perfect corner pocket combination of pillows and arm rest, the Bermuda triangle of my hopes and dreams that once I committed to Nebraska were lost at sea forever. I am the Amelia Earnhardt of quarterback recruits. This couch inside the house man.  Looked just like the jersey numbers of your X receiver. Did you know the Z receiver is only for flanker drive, short posts, and slants. The X receiver is for digs, deep balls, and comebacks. Totally different type of receiver. If you want to win a game then x marks the spot. Throw it to him. Because that is TO, Randy Moss, where the HOF receiver goes. Touchdown, I throw a laser into the couch.  Don't throw the ball in the house is the worst god damn advice any parent ever gave their kid. I would do at least 100-200 3 step drops and fire that red football into the arms of that couch. Fuck that couch up. This is before Academy sold quarterback nets and targets that Josh Allen misses during Senior Bowl Practices. Fuck this target. The receiver would have reached out and caught that shit coach. They do this drill at the elite 11 where you throw a stop route, and the receiver cannot extend their arms. It has to hit their chest. Right in that 12 inch box from the nipple to nose. Give them a black eye like the one that all politicians mysteriously get. No one knows why. Google it. Tom Brady is famous because he hits this box every fucking time. Not like JT Barrett on Instagram who can't hit a fucking dunk tank target at an NFL play 60 charity event for Breast Cancer. Thanks JT- give me the fucking ball. Drew Brees hits the target first try. So these Elite 11 quarterbacks drop back and throw and if it misses the target they get eliminated. 20 quarterbacks go down in the first two rounds. Maybe 1 wins. Usually no one wins. That is how rare accuracy is, and going to 8 Super Bowls, and why 11 of the last 19 Elite 11 # 1 quarterbacks in the country have to transfer. Brodie Coyle never had that problem. He could hit a beer can off the fence of your farm. The problem is that he was dumber than the cattle. True story. Ask someone. Anyways here I am throwing into my couch sometimes hitting the lamp on the coffee table behind it. Rep after rep. Rain, shine, inside the house. In the morning, get some reps after school, at night in my pajamas. I would never stop getting reps. If you know me personally you know that I engage at least 500 fake throws a day. I just wander down the hallways of your workplace, or your Christmas party pump faking, and throwing imaginary dig routes to cubicles, and your accountants, and fake hand offs to your nurses. People are like what the fuck is he doing. Not me, I am getting thousands of reps a week. I don't need a football. Just my mind, and me fake fucking throwing shadow passes. My throwing motion dancing across the wall in your office like Peter Pan. I know magic by the way. You have to be magical to be a quarterback. Put a spell on your teammates. MK Ultra them to a win. Baker Mayfield is the Harry Potter of Pro Quarterbacks. His arm is a wand. Wala! you guys don't suck. They open their eyes, and are playing the Baltimore Ravens for a potential playoff spot. That is why he wears a visor to hide that lightning bolt above his eye brow. Fuck Harry Potter. I have never even read one book. One of my tight ends in college would go to the movie to see that shit. No wonder NC State sucked. I only watch Nicolas Cage in the Rock with Sean Connery, and Anacondas. And that ratchet ass writer who tweets mean shit at Trump. You sir are uncivilized. Great fucking mean tweet Kimmel. Brexit my foot off in your ass. She was a billionaire but then donated a lot of money to charity now she is just a hundred millionaire. Mark Walhberg says most Hollywood Celebrities should shut up because they had no clue what it means to throw passes into their couch. I do. That's why my arm is so god damn strong is because of these Ashley's furniture reps. I might just bring a bag of footballs up into Rooms to Go. Become the starting quarterback of Nebraska Furniture mart. I loved that red football. I would pretend it was the Super Bowl. I was Brett Favre, and I needed ten perfect passes into that couch to rip my helmet off after a touchdown pass on a razor audible to Andre Rison. Rasor Rasor. Joe Montana beating the Broncos 55-10 audible. Bill Walsh says to Carmen Policy this game is over. What do you mean coach? Its over. What do you mean? Everybody's open. And he was right. It was his team. Football Life on Fridays is the bomb. You know that razor razor just means sluggo seam right. Rasor Rasor. Life comes at your fast, sometimes you have to audible. Like when I was at the Taking Back Sunday concert I had to leave to go pick Cal balls up at the airport. Using up my anytime minutes. Hey, what's for dinner in Florida H, I am flying on down for a visit. Make sure you don't go to Florida after they offered you free tickets to the LSU game this Saturday. He was hungry. Wanted the top recruiting class in Nebraska history, so my mom cooked Bill Callahan filet mignon, and lobster tails.  Elon Callahan sat down at the dining room table eating some Florida seafood. My uncle bringing up his Super Bowl loss to the raiders. Flew in just for a few hours to feel that pain again. Made me sit on the couch afterwards watching the Jaguars Steelers game, and breaking down offensive lineman protections. Asking me where the G Belly is. This is the bubble 1 tech on the nose center and nose guard. Throws a great screen pass. Dear god. Bill  would look up, Big Ben would be dropping back to pass. As soon as Ben got the snap he would softly scream at the TV-  circle out. Staring at the TV wishing that he didn't have to teach a fucking 17 year old kid about 200 jet protection, and was instead in that game with men, with veterans who now can see any doctor they want to thanks to Trump, the warriors who survived Frank Ganz's General Patton story about Normandy Beach. Tom Hanks volleyball in Cast-A-Way. Resilient mother fucker. Hated Tom, tried to swim away at the end. Tom left his raft and went and got him. Not even scared of the whales. If it was a Lions Gate movie then Eli Roth would have had Toms legs ripped off by a shark. This wasn't a movie. This was Inside the NFL with Phil Sims.  Coach Cally told me a story about how before an NFL game he would walk through the training room with people like Bill Romanowski, folks getting taped and bandaged, preparing for war physically and mentally. Ray Crockett listening to Pastor Troy. Best short yard back in NFL history. Soldiers preparing for battle, to fight to the death. He would just stare at them, willing their way to that game, and to the field. To play. Broken fingers, torn up knees, hurt ankles, and egos. Nothing could stop them. My wiener dog Dutch just nestled right in his lap. A warm iguana rock snuggling with coach. I had no fucking idea what was going on or what he was talking about. I just wanted to fuck my girlfriend that weekend on the beach, and throw footballs after school, lift weights. But I remember his almost gothic cathedral worship of the NFL. I respect that. Just met at the wrong time and place. He had the personality of Rob Lowe. Ups and downs, and all arounds. Being a football player isn't all about the cash. You get paid in surreal moments and stories that you get to keep with you forever. The accountant at your job can only complain that Red Lobster ran out of cheddar biscuits because so many people are home from Christmas and eating there this week. Sounds like their fucking manager doesn't know how to count. Can't take inventory properly. I would fire his ass. That place sucks anyways. In Texas all they serve is Barbecue, Steaks, and Fried Chicken. So I tried to eat at Red Lobster. Get some seafood. All I ate my entire life in Florida. I order scallops. The filet mignon of the sea. God dammit. They were rough. The bubble gum of the sea I guess. I swear to god I could have blew a fucking bubble with one of those scallops in my mouth. Unlike that guy in Anaconda who couldn't breath.  Anyways you got to be careful what you let inside you. People are like websites you click on. You better have an SSL certificate on your mind or else you will let your brother convince you that the illuminati is real. 5 years ago. Hey check out this illuminati video on YouTube. That is bullshit. What the fuck are you talking about? Satan controls the music industry. Fuck off bro. Then next thing you know you are traveling all across the country, in and out of airports watching YouTube in between waiting in a 35 person line for Starbucks for a drink that is just going to dehydrate and irritate you by 7pm. Hunny I can't sleep you text. This Hampton Inn bed. Goes and turns the hotel room temperature down to 63 degrees. Lays back down. Clicks video. Why does Lady Gaga keep putting one hand over her one eye? Why is Madonna dancing with a bunch of Baphomet goats dressed like an Egyptian Pharoh? Why did the Rams cut Pharoh Cooper? McVay says numbers.  What the fuck does every President say we are creating a new world order. God dammit. 5 years later. Nickelodean is on the TV and you see a pyramid with an eye in it. I bet Johnny Manziel didn't sacrifice his cousin to Tyrese. Kicked his ass right out. Go to Canada dog. Make bracelets with Trudeaus eye brows that fall off his face on live TV and no one questions it. I wish I never looked at that shit. Its fucking everywhere. Fuck my brother for that. And technically fuck you because now that I just told you about the CERN portal, the Moca Gallery, Spirit Cooking, and Qanon you are going to google it, see it, say its fucking bullshit, and 6 years from now be wearing a MAGA hat realizing the democrats created the KKK, and Nikola Tesla created electricity not Thomas Edison. And Trump is still President. Son of a bitch. Be careful what you let inside your mind. Inside you. You only need a few things to survive. Jim Harbaugh says that we need lots of sleep, lots of whole milk, and steak. That is how we get big and strong, smart. But humans are the only species that drinks milk past birth. My fridgerator disagrees. 3 gallons of whole milk at all times. That is why you always need ACL surgery, and I don't. You drink fucking soda. You want to make sugar water for the rest of your life or change the world Jobs said to Sculley. Don't throw a fucking coup of me on my way to Asia in the middle of a thunderstorm and I lose all my luggage in Beijing. This is the 80's and they don't have tracking systems yet you fuck. Relationships are a big song and dance. How come every time I listen to Gucci Mane I am always inside club Kryptonite in Myrtle Beach within 30 minutes of that song? Magical spells man. Why do you think they play Explosions in the Sky during the show Friday Night Lights at its most magical moments? The ball tumbling through the air for the game winning drop by an NC State receiver at Clemson. Dana Bible says to me- man he should have caught it. I just stare at him like he is the clouds outside the office window I now have to sit in. Tears man. Got to be careful. I have never done something rationale during a Chainsmokers concert. Ever. Vibrations and frequencies. I am super sensitive.  Someone at work seems down and out. I fucking avoid that person like he has the flu. Shit is contagious. There is no shot in the arm for frequency prevention season. You have to take their body type and life into consideration. If you are 5 foot 7 and have bad facial hair, and balding, and are a little guy. Your whole swag is going to be different than if you are Harrison 6'3 monster arm and biceps, huge beautiful horse legs, quads and calves, beautiful auburn red facial hair, thick beautiful luscious head of hair, extremely handsome in a Jonquin Pheonix in that Mel Gibson movie Signs kind of way. Thank god you use to be a professional baseball player bro, so you can swing that bat and kill those fucking crop circle aliens for us. Not washed up after all. I shower three times a day. I am clean. When you play sports at the division 1 level you don't just fucking stop being a badass athlete. I ran the Turkey Trot during Thanksgiving. 3 miles in 30 minutes. That is a 10 minute mile. I mean I can't be a fucking cop in downtown Tampa, but that is 100 times better than the piece of shit accountant at your workplace who puffs on her fucking Juhl E-cigarette 25x an hour in between calling Pets Mart to schedule her dog for a nail clipping appointment. Fuck you. I can jump and dunk a basketball. I can do an excessive amount of push ups. I can throw a football 80 yards. Its not the body. Its the blood. Its the soul. Its the spirit. Its the fuck you mother fucker inside you. Some people have it and some people don't have it. What is inside you? I would pop a key hole in the tin man from Wizard of Oz and pour all his fucking oil into the ocean and blame it on BP. Fuck they said that was going to happen in those 1990's illuminati cards. What is inside you? Joe "Mental" Mentalino calling Nicholas Andre inside a phone booth outside the motel of Lloyd Christmas and Harry. That guy knocking on the glass- how much longer? He punches him through the glass. And finishes his call. Did you know that Lloyd Christmas is the true villain in that movie. Harry you are one pathetic loser. Not Sea Bass. Using anyone and everyone to get that brief case back to Mary Swanson. Who if they got married her name would be Mary Christmas. So you're telling me there is a chance. You got to pay attention to folks. To what is inside. What is actually happening. Marc Benioff goes to India with his partner Serjin Gupta. He meets with a guru in a tent. They take acid. Which is like Silicon Valley if you haven't done this you're not a visionary transcendent leader like Johnny Depp playing guitar at the VMA's for no reason in a titled kit. A breastaurant that doesn't show enough tits.  Has no Instagram game. He goes to India. High as shit. The guru and Serjin start talking about the world becoming a thousand, million trillion censors. Like the Alexa light bulbs you just installed in your living room. Alexa, turn on the lights. You have a thought. Maybe thoughts are just notifications that someone sent you a message on Facebook messenger. Maybe your soul is tweeting at you. Wake the fuck up you idiot you have to go to work now you didn't make it to the NFL according to Hail Varsity's intern. You open your eyes and the first thing you do is check Trumps tweets. More important than any corporate news media in the world. His tweets. Marc Benioff comes home to America fully relaxed. Like Ram Dass. Be here now. 8 individual selves now combed into one strand of hair. Hey we checked your hair, and its look like you have been microdosing acid Ram. We can't hire you. Yeah but I 1 self now. Benioff invents Salesforce. United Health Group uses Be Here Now to educate their employees during lunch and learn sessions. True story. His life's work. Everyone should do drugs. The employees throw their hats up like its college graduation. He is the only democrat that I would ever vote for President. Marc Benioff. I need some time off Larry (Ellison), youngest VP in Oracle history. I need some time off to go to India. Find myself. Reach inside. Hang out in the one place from Stranger Things where Wynona Ryder can clearly see her son in the wall. But can't just reach in and grab him. Will- I love you baby please communicate with me using Alphabet Christmas tree lights I stapled to my wall. F. Okay. U. Okay. C. um. K. Will. Y.. Will. O. William. U. Fuck You. I am having a great fucking time in this mother fucker. I am never coming home. Tell that sheriff to keep leaving me sandwiches though because I am hungry, and still a kid. So I still need support from my parents to live, even though my ego is trying to make me independent. Maybe Stranger Things is just a euphemism for empty nest syndrome. OMG. Maybe we aren't supposed to talk to anyone. Just keep quiet. And whenever I say something to you through Twitter or Instagram I am breaking the fourth wall like Claire in House of Cards. Not season 6. But season 4 when they are watching the fake war on terror begin. You only think Frank could talk to you, but then it zooms in and she looks right at you. That's right. We don't submit to terror. We make the terror. OMG Claire can see us. Harrison can see us through his twitter. Thanks for voting on my polls.  I wanted to hate Season 6 so bad without Frank but it was so good. I might even vote for Hillary 2020 because look if this lady is so hell bent on becoming President that she will take down an entire country, Trump and his family, and anything in her path to become President. That is who the fuck I want as my President. A killer. But I don't know yet. I am still holding out to see if Trump can pull it off. I hope he does. Well see. Remember Al Pacino in the Devil's Advocate. When he recruits Keanu Reeves from that small town in Florida to New York City. Charlize Theron is all excited for her big league lawyer hot shot fiancé. They start looking around and peoples heads are turning into demons. You have to choose Keanu. Heaven or Hell. Anyways he shuts the whole show down at the end, and zaps right back to Florida. Doesn't die. Just starts over again like a snowboard racing video game at Chuckee Cheese that crashes into the wall but doesn't lose any speed or his place in the race. Just regenerates.  He goes into the bathroom. Splashes water on his face. Then heads for the stairwell. And gets approached again by a journalist to write a big story. Keanu accepts. Which you find out its Al Pacino trying again. The devil you know. Because its what is inside you. 2 not 3 chicken fil sandwiches. 3 is a bit much I learned. They soak their chicken in pickle juice, and there is confectionist sugar in the breading. Savory and Sweet. Outback Steakhouse. Brown sugar in their crust. Savory and Sweet. My grandpa watching Evander Holyfield get his ear bitten off while eating pretzels and Neapolitan ice cream. RIP Grandpa. That memory is inside me. Evander's sweaty ear lobe is inside Mike Tyson. Gets to just walk around and do TV interviews, be in the hangover, be a cultural phenomenon. Fucking bit someone's ear off. I run a traffic light with a camera on it and get a fucking $100 ticket notice. This guy ate someone's fucking ear. Fuck you. Character is who you are when no one is looking. Its what is inside you. A straw helping you breath. So you can continue on catching a snake. A brief case with IOUS to help support you getting a girlfriend, so you exlax your friend before his big date. Politics is performance art. And no one knows what Mike Pence is thinking.