In Honor of Plaxico Burress

New York Giants idiot wide receiver Plaxico Burress has always been something of a malcontent, from his days in Pittsburgh and through his, what, five seasons now in New York. But last year, he played on a bad ankle all year, and despite not practicing hardly at all last year, he still had something like 1200 yards and 11 touchdowns. He helped the Giants win the Super Bowl, made the winning catch, and then the talk of a new contract started.

In the end, talent won out. He got is new deal this year and promptly started fucking up left and right. When the G-Men supsended him a week earlier this year, it came out he's been late to meetings every week and has been fined like 20 times this year already.

He claimed that a number of those late arrivals and missed meetings were problems with his kid, and his wife and kid were the most important things in the world to him, so no matter how much the Giants fined him, he was going to keep doing right by his family.

So naturally, over Thanksgiving weekend, while missing practice and possibly an upcoming game because of a sore hamstring, Burress manages to find himself in a club late Friday night and shoot himself in the thigh with his own gun. In the words of Bill Hicks, "Is life too fucking funny or what?"