QBLesson - Quarterback & Football

Dreams

QB Lessons in Mckinney in Dallas will teach you about how to dream. Listen to the quarterback coach in McKinney in Dallas. Trust your quarterback lessons in McKinney in Dallas. Don’t worry, I’m not gonna do what you all think I’m gonna do, which is, you know, FLIP OUT! Hello.. Hello I’m looking for my wife. I am trying to decide which version of Tom Cruise that I am. I am driving home from work yesterday, and I am like, you know what. Seabass and the fellas offered to pick up our check. They said to just put it on their tab.. They are very nice. And I pulled into my driveway. My wife arriving with the groceries. She got me a lb of Mahi Mahi. I cooked it in butter and vinegar, with garlic and onion powder, salt and pepper, on top of cilantro lime rice. Brings me back to living in Tampa where I just ate seafood 5 days a week. Sea Trout. Blue Crab cakes. Like a champion. Fried Grouper sandwiches with cheddar cheese on top from Dockside Daves. Fucking $21 dollar sandwich. Just pound it with some ketchup. Fuck yeah mother fucker. I pull up in my expensive Zegna tie from Nordstroms that most of you reading this can’t afford but 1 a fucking year. But I can afford easily. Seriously go to fucking Zegna.com and click around. Try to buy one with your shitty budget. I fucking got my expandable waist Perry Ellises on from Steinmart. I get out of the truck, and leave it running, and go grab my tripod and camera. My wife is yelling at me to help with the fucking groceries. Babe, one fucking minute. I have to do something. I had a fever only cured by after work bombs. I grab my hundred dollar NFL football, which is scientifically made by NASA to be aerodynamically perfect for throwing spirals. You have to be fucking retarded not to be able throw a spiral with an NFL football. Bro you guys think Tom Brady deflates his footballs. You should have met this kid Ryan Perilloux from LSU. He snuck up on his sister one night in Hollygrove, and her boyfriend shot him in the fucking chest 2 times. He lifted his shirt up at the Elite 11, and has a nile river scar down the center of his body like a transformer tried to cut him in half looking for bumblebee. Nice kid, but everyone thought he had the strongest arm of all time. So fucking strong. In fact, one day at the end of an Elite 11 session. All the quarterbacks are sitting there sunning themselves alligators on a golf course. And no one throws fucking farther than H Beck. So I tell the Louisiana Purchase, Fucking Ryan Perilloux, fucking try it, I dare you. Yeah, use your fucking, I got my tires for $45 dollars used, for my mercedes, from the mexican tire shop, fucking deflated football. I am not fucking spending $200 a tire at Goodyear. Sorry. But he had the shitties deflated basketball football you have ever seen. I am talking like you find this fucking football in your garage, near a fucking smashed fast food cup, been laying there for 3 months, because you just haven’t been throwing lately, all weathered, like fucking armadillo skin fucking grip, fucking cause the last time you threw it was wet out, and you didn’t bother to go inside like Harrison, and take care of your widdle baby, and wipe its widdle nose and face down, give it scratches and kisses, love it, clean it up. You comfy now. Oh thats good widdle boo bear. Fucking clean your football up. Football keeps getting the fucking flu at school cause you don’t make it take baths at night, and brush your fucking teeth you been eating fucking candy. This nasty fucking deflated piece of shit, I don’t have an air pump fucking football you can dig your thumb into. He stands up, and with his dab, Micheal Vick, I never worked out in my entire life, I only do pushups, and fucking tie two gallons of water to each end of a broom stick, and do curls in the front yard, there is a bench press in my drive way, arm. He decides to launch his campaign for Presidency. And the ball goes decently far. Fucking Obama Hopes he beat me. Then Mark Sanchez stands up. This fucking quarterback competition was basically the current divide in our country. Fucking H vs. Jeb Bushes wife in a throwing contest.  Bro if you have ever met Mark Sanchez. He is actually kind of funny, but no one has more teeth in their mouth than this kid. Fucking perfect white glistening, perfectly sized teeth. A hundred of them. He stands up, and hes got a fucked up, elbow is way to rectangle, fucking looks like a construction CAT dumping fucking concrete, deconstructed wrist snap, fucking making a bird beak against a wall that has a night light on it, for your kid type throw. His pass went like 50 yards. Decent. At least Ocasia Cortez stood up for something. Chase Daniel can’t throw for shit, and most of them were too pussy. No I am good man. I only gel my hair before practice, and my fingers are slipping cause I have been sweating, but also trying to have great hair. Shoenhoft’s cheeks look like its constantly -15 degrees outside at all times. Rosia mother fucker. Anyways, I launched that football out there, way the fuck past past Flat Earths moon and the stars, and winked at Ryan Perilloux. He was close, but he knew I had that long dick too. Fucking roll out it like a fruit roll up. To measure the distance of my throw. Anyways — Kyle Orton fucking yelling at me to take a seven step drop on a comeback. Fuck off. I could throw better than him at 18, he should be concerned that he isn’t just obviously better than me. Instead drunk from the night before in Oakleys talking to me about how they do it at Purdue. Thanks Kyle Ill let you know the next time I am in Indiana trying to find out if Gunner Kiel is still alive. After his career was killed by head coaching candidate, who was interviewed by the Cardinals, and within minutes, they hired Kliff Kingsbury, because even though Zac works directly for Sean McVay, and Kliff saw him at a bar,  they were like, yeah but he use to be roommates with Justin Tomerlin, who died skateboarding outside his house. And I don’t know about you. But I don’t know one fucking person who died from riding a skateboard. I mean god bless his soul, but its like the Clintons. My grandma died and they made me kiss her goodbye one last time, and I am slobbering crying. All the neighbors are hugging me. Its gonna be okay. Its gonna be okay Harrison. No. I scream. No I will avenge your death grandma by becoming the greatest quarterback to ever live who the NFL won’t let me into their league because Bill Callahan is mad at me, and also because the CFL made Danny O’Brien stop following me on instagram, and also because the Spokane Shock wanted me to play for them, but kept checking my social media accounts, where I posted a lot of commentary that included the word fuck, and so guess what mother fucker. You get to fucking get kicked the fuck out of football, but not fucking really because instead you just fucking made videos of you throwing and posting it on twitter, and we never fucking expected you to fucking do that, and holy fucking shit it works. Fuck you. I love you grandma, and we are not hiring you zac because its not normal for someone to die on a skateboard, and through osmosis, some could say, in an avatar movie way where humans are nature, and nature is humans, and so the two co-exist karmically, and that a very small percentage of your influence, led to his choice, to skateboard without helmet, which what are you going to influence Josh Rosen to do. Just saying. He already goes to the aquarium 5 times a week.  So basically only my grandma and grandpa have ever died around me, yet people aren’t scratching their heads wondering why like 75 people have died around the Clintons. I don’t know, maybe they have more friends than me. Maybe they are going to those cocktail parties that Jeff Bezo’s wife said on twitter or in business insider were the reason that they were getting divorced after an amazon prime, I ordered cloths from there, 7 day trial to see if you like, fucking seperation, or being married to your wife of 25 years still. Where Jeff Bezos realized that he was a fucking billionaire, but to stay away from Mariah Carey because I guess you need a pre-nup just to date her from what she did to that other guy after just dating a few weeks, and also you better not pay hookers to piss on the bed where the Obama’s stayed, because someone would get paid to find that shit out, and deliver that Bob Knight choking a kid out, tape to CNN, in a brown paper fucking bag with no return address. Maybe I should have just stayed married like Bill Gates. Mckenzie, look I am not going to fucking ride in one my blue origin rockets and die. But you promised Jeff. I can’t go to talk to you every night at dinner, and you are reading the ratings and reviews of every product on Amazon every single night before bed or you can’t sleep. Babe just completed the sexual wellness shop, only ten more shops left. Brad it says that this catapolt in the toys for kids section, for 6 year old boys was delivered broken. Can you look into this? Also what does the inside of their house look like. So I can see if the customer is poor or not, and determine the way I treat them moving forward. Mckenzie gulps her wine and xanax, and turns on Bravo. Is Southern Charm cursed, why the fuck is everyone getting arrested? Its the Great Awakening- all of Eric Schmidts assets are frozen. Babe, I like George Micheal earrings, but whats the score of the Clemson game. You know what would fucking happen if Trevor Lawrence went pro this year. Ill tell you what would happen. He would be higher than Dabo, since its the offseason, and they don’t drug testing during the offseason, but during the season, when they do, they make you pull your pants down and stand over a fucking trash can on a dolly, with your dick out, while Dr. Jerry stares at the pee stream leaving your girdle schlong, into the fucking cup, just to make sure that when you got your new job offer, you didn’t go the urgent care with your girlfriends urine, hidden in your sweatshirt, in the bathroom by yourself, pouring it in there, adding a little bit of sink water, but fuck wait, I forgot she smokes weed too, fuck, no, more fucking sink water, im gonna pass I drank an entire pack of bottled waters and I feel dizzy, hey did I get the fucking job, actually sir it says too diluted, so you have to take it again, for real, okay, so I didn’t not pass, one more fucking chance, thank god, okay I am going to take a bunch of niacin, that navy sailors swear gets weed out of your system in 48 hours, and boom, wa la,  look I fucking passed. Hell yeah, now I get to make 40 thousand dollars feel like a million dollars, at the club, until I realize its not after my first promotion, and I can’t believe I worked like that for 1300 dollars a paycheck, fuck. And guess what, Dr. Jerry, you get to have two hundred thousand dollars of student debt and loans, and an unlimited amount of time watching dicks piss into a cup after football practice. Great fullback dick Dane. That and fucking taping peoples ankles. Hey do you have a job description? Yeah, basically you are going to tape ankles, and collect urine. But you get to be on the sidelines of every game. And see that double reverse pass verse Oklahoma that you needed to show Miami, when watching film for the national title, that year, that basically all we do is run the ball, and if you force us to pass, we have to do a double reverse where Mike Stuntz is throwing, fuck no, who never fucking played one fucking snap besides that silly fucking play, yet at practice acted like he was the one who should get all the reps, and who won the fucking Heisman, and so the game is over at that point, and also Eric, you get to sell playgrounds for eternity, because Miami made us throw now, and we can’t throw, only do reverses that fuck our team chemistry up. Hey its the price you pay man. You’re the one who wanted to trade your soul for the Heisman. Yeah I told you these blood diamonds were worth 15 million dollars Drew, but it turns out they are only worth 9 million. And my generals get mad at me when I ask why the fuck we are in Afganistan just fighting endless wars, and not fucking taking any minerals, but actually are, and I am trying to tell you on your special oval office address that the drug trade is a $500B dollar business, and that is bigger than Google, close to Apple, and every one thinks its just the kid in the dorm next door, you pay 25 dollars to roll a blunt of that Dabo. I see your point. I think I should do a better job listening, and not just hearing the democrats rebuttal. Hey guys, we are here, the party of feminism, to show you how only a man can lead this country, and your family, and even though in the late 60’s we developed a movement called feminism, to empower women to get to work, because we realized that we were only taxing men, and unlike China who hates when you have a female child, basically because they don’t think they are strong enough to till land, even though no one does that anymore, we love women working and feeling confident enough to also get taxed on their paycheck now too, doubling our revenue, and also leaving their child to the public school system, where we have a better chance of teaching them how to become a factory worker, hey son what did you learn at school today? Tell me later because I just got off work, and all I want to do is fucking everything I couldn’t fucking do at work, even though nobody was emailing, or had any questions today, and I just sat there with my thumb up my ass wondering why I am gaining weight because I don’t have time to workout, because fucking people who go workout after work obviously don’t love the limited time they get to see their kids, or do they love their kids, because they are working out, and not slowly dying, and that dilemma of either lasting until they are old enough to take care of themselves, and don’t need you and your job & paycheck, or if you should just not workout, stay home and play with them while you can, because both your dad and granpda died at 39 from heart disease, and you’re starting to get chest pains, and pretty sure you only have 8 years left to live. Fuck yeah. Get it son. Fucking get that shit. Go fucking deep. Go further. I always play catch with folks. And they walk around the fucking office, and fucking at family events, come up to me with their fucking beers, and fucking talk to me like they are allowed to just come fucking talk to me. Whenever they want, and use up my fucking any time minutes. Hey man, let me tell you a fucking story about my fucking life, yeah I use to be great at fucking roping horses, or fucking gymnastics, or fucking whatever the fuck I wasn’t fucking great at because obviously when I google your name a lot more fucking people know you than fucking me, and you obviously were like the #3 quarterback in the fucking world, and when I was a kid my mom just kept wondering what she did wrong to not at least get to me be a starting quarterback even just fucking once, just one fucking trophy, one fucking thing where everyone wanted to watch my fucking son, not someone elses fucking son, not someone elses kids fucking performance, my sons’ fucking performance. God damn what would that feel like. That is life man. God either gives you a nice sized dick, or you fucking shower after practice at home. Hey Barry what the fuck are you doing? Why are you jerking off in your locker? Im not dog. I am just trying to get some blood in my meat so I can show out in the shower. When you are a star you can just grab them by the pussy. Its just locker room talk. That is not fucking locker room talk. Okay yeah. What fucking locker room have you been in? I got fucking teammates jerking off before the showers. Man Barry is hyper competitive. Not only did he win in the Oklahoma drill today, but Charles Hayley pulled his cock out, and once put it on Matt Millens shoulder when they were with the cowboys. And since the NFL doesn’t have an HR, the only major company in the world without one, no one did anything. Get your dick off me man, was about it. Hey, he sacks the quarterback, and all the coaches foreheads.  Anyways life is all about perception. What do people think? I am listening to end of my Mike L Severe interview yesterday. My heart feels all warm and fuzzy. Man Mike is so nice. Says I am not fucking racist piece of shit that 3 pages on Huskers Illustrated a bunch of limp dick, fucking hot dog eaters, fucking babe, no babe, No I will take you on a fucking date, as soon as I get done letting my peers know that although I watch Harrison’s videos on his twitter 50 x a fucking day, and actually dear god, this mother fucker is unreal, fucking great stuff, I need to type an othello siliquoy about how my mom wishes that I was him, and not calling her every semester to make sure she paid my student tuition, and also I need money for books. Here is a fucking tip from H. Rent them on fucking Chegg. You know. Better yet. Set up a schedule with your classmates and you get the book on Monday, they get the book on Tuesday. You know what, fuck that. Go to the fucking student center for athletes where they paid a fucking graduate student to sit at a fucking computer with you, and hold your fucking hand, and I didn’t actually learn shit in college, except for this one fucking kid, who sat there while I typed every fucking sentence, and got approval, and by the 10th or 11th paper, I was like omg I actually did learn to read and write, this is fucking incredible. Oh shit I have a 5 page paper due on Hamlet. I am just going to go to Spark Notes, read the book in literally half hour, and write 3-5 sentence paragraphs using most of the notes from it, but right clicking the synonyms button to change every other word to a word that kind of fits, and then spell check it, I just wrote a sentence that feels too similiar, okay you know what the point of the sentence was, so just delete the sentence, and write it again, but in your own words, and you rewrite the sentence, and yeah that works. Save. Now its definitely my work. Bro you have to be the dumbest mother fucker in the history of the fucking world not get an A or B in every single college class. I swear to god. I got a master degree and all I had to do was write 1 paper a fucking semester with 20 plus citations in it. Had three months to write the entire paper. Man you going to graduate soon. I don’t know mom they fucking are only letting me write 1 paper every fucking four months for the next two years. I tried to just say hey can I take like fucking the entire master degree in that four months, and they said no I need spanish 200. You will not fucking graduate unless you learn fucking spanish. Why? For what? Because the whole world will be fucking spanish soon because we aren’t letting Trump build the wall, because Nancy Pelosi is only allowed to stand there and not say 1 fucking word you here me Nancy. You just look fucking straight at the camera. Yes I know this podium feels like a twin bed. But its against a wall. So take the wall side, as close as you can get. I will take the side where I will worry about falling off all night. And we will choose to sleep at our friends house after the bar, and not just take an Uber fucking home, because we wanted one more fucking cocktail at 2am. And they went home and got into their pajamas and basketball shorts, and I get to sleep in my fucking buffalo jeans tonight. Man fuck spending the night at your friends house. If I was at home I could wake up in the middle of the night and chug half a gallon of milk. Because nothing cures vodka stomach like Vitamin D milk at 4am. I always wondered why my alcoholic father drank so much milk. Now I fucking know. Touche my lord. Touche. Rest in Peace. I better not fucking find out that Stone Cold Steve Austin has been drinking canned water this whole time. Those better be Stevewiesers. I was always Stone Cold Steve Austin when I was kid and we did fake wrestling matches. I would fucking dead serious run up on someone in the locker room and just stun their ass. Fucking homecoming night, and everyone is celebrating, fucking laughing. HAHAHAH! so fucking funny man. High school kids having a great fucking time. Until H gets to the fucking locker room, and rips the fucking door, and tells everyone to just shut their fucking mouths, and not say a fucking word. I better not hear a fucking peep. And my high school coach is like Jesus Christ, son. Are you on steroids? This kid isn’t fucking playing. Even he shuts the fuck up. Fucking sit there, and we will fucking wait until its time to go back out. Drawing fucking homecoming on the fucking chalk board, with flowers and shit. Get the fuck out of here. Everyone thinks its all jokes. Its all fucking game. Oh look there is H in a field by himself fucking throwing passes in high school  to no one. Just running to go get the balls. Loosing some. In the brush. But then looking and finding it. Let me count. Okay I still have 10 balls. Fucking you want to throw guys. No we want to go home and fucking play video games, and fucking basketball with each other. Fuck you. I fucking go throw by myself. Hundreds of throws. Until it was fucking dark out. Fucking mom knew not to even come until fucking 6pm. I get out of school at 1pm. Fucking five straight hours of throws by myself. You wonder why my arm is so fucking strong. Because I throw all fucking day. All fucking day long. I don’t ice my fucking arm. I don’t fucking take days off to let it rest. Its fucking like a pair of leather fucking boots. Aged fucking steaks. Tendons stronger than fucking the ligaments on a triple crown horses knee cap. My forearms are the size of fucking sailboat catfish bellies. If you forgot to bring a fucking neck pillow on the airplane, I would just put my forearm behind your girlfriends head, and the meat would feel like a fucking perfectly firm hotel pillow. Each one of my fucking fingers has biceps. I don’t know what that doctor did to my fucking right hand at NC State, or the one did to my thumb in high school when that kicker fucking kicked my thumb and broke it, piece of shit mother fucker, but I have a fucking, I collect stones like Thanos fucking hand. Fucking the movie the Rookie but instead of breaking my arm, my fucking hand, thats why I can now throw fucking rockets, fucking hand. Swear to god I have the abdomen of a fucking mako shark. Dead serious. I can swim 60 fucking miles per hour under the fucking ocean water. Water usually slows things down like when you paddle, or workout in those pool classes old ladies do at the fucking gym, and they try to convince you that swimming in the best exercise, but then you date a swimmer who was hot, but she has huge fucking shoulders. I can swim fucking faster than her too. Fucking thighs like Goro from fucking Mortal Kombat. You have to fucking beat all those fucking losers in that long ass list of people who take lots of creatin and do skull crushers at the gym, to fucking get to me and my fucking squat over 600 pounds of horse dick fucking legs. Strong ass fucking flexible ankles. I can put weight on any fucking part of my foot and its just fucking fine to balance me. Ill tell you what Kim Solziack you fucking spend $25,000 more fucking dollars at the Casino in all cash, on an episode of Don’t be tardy for the party. And I won’t do fucking shit. Because you got some big ass fucking titties. Gift from God. Fucking me. I am. And I thank you god. Seriously, Thank You. Dead serious. I could be one of my fans. But I do have some advice for how you can change your life. I want you to go to the mirror, and look at yourself, and think about the words that I have written. And realize that Tylenol PM works just as good as Vodka. For trying to get a good nights sleep. Folks say that if you put your finger into the palm of your hand every day, pretty soon you will put your finger into the palm of your hand in your dreams. That is why a lot of athletes talk about seeing themselves play before they play. Or playing the game before playing the game. And I close my eyes. I see me. Like Eleven in Stanger Things in that all black space. and there is one football. On the ground. I pick it up. Feel the grip. 85 percent inflated 1005. Perfect. And I throw it, and it disappears into the black. And all I hear is the crowd cheering. Harrison, Harrison, Harrison. Then I wake up. And I take those fingers that I was putting into the palm of my hand, that were supposed to be in my dreams. And I begin the process of trying to fuck your mom before work.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s