So Who Wants to Be the Next Steely McBeam?

This seems like a job for Cedrick Wilson since, you know, he's looking for work. Of course, there's the whole punching-your-girlfriend-in-the-face-at-a-Mexican-restaurant thing ... okay, maybe it won't work.

Instead, it could be part of James Harrison's community service for his off-field transgressions. I'd love to hear the Steelers official that had to bring it up to him. "Uh, yeah, Mr. Harrison, Mr. Rooney thinks you need to make amends for, um, running Kool-Aid-style through your girlfriend's door. He, uh, thinks you should be Steely McBeam. Good idea, right?"

And it all ends badly, too gruesome to write here. Okay, LSD trip over.

Concerning the draft, I got nothin'. I'm actually tired of thinking about it. At this point, I'm waiting for Henigin's prediction so I can get on with my life.

On a completely unrelated note, any of you responsible homeowners know anything about laying pavers for a patio. I'm thinking about throwing down a 15X5 patio and I have no idea what I'm doing (hey, I'm an idea man, not an actual doer).