This is Jeff Garcia. He is the quarterback of the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. He has also been the QB of the San Francisco 49ers, Cleveland Browns, Detroit Lions, and Philadelphia Eagles. This is his wife.
She's, of course, a Playboy model with what I'm sure is a fantastic personality. It would seem that Jeff, with a few years rotting in rust belt shit holes, is leading the perfect life. Of course, there's one thing that needs to be mentioned.
Jeff Garcia is gayer than a stack of strawberry pancakes. He's gayer than a three dollar bill. There's nothing wrong with this, of course. Being gay rocks, especially if you're a football player. It'd be like being a lesbian cheerleader. I appreciate the gay contributions to the civil structure. I've often had desert, or wondered where best to place a piece of furniture, or flipped past VH1. However, Jeff Garcia's homosexuality effects me directly, because he has an insatiable appetite for rape, and what he likes to rape are innocent, helpless Panthers.I should have known the Panthers were going to shit the bed as soon as they named Garcia the starter over Griese, but I held out hope because, well, I'm a fucking sap.
Everyone not named Steve Smith looked god damn awful. The special teams was shit as always, no one could run, blocking was an afterthought, and that little shit midget Warrick Dunn squirted all over the field like a loose one on your socks. Jeff Garcia was able to hit all of his no name receivers wide open in the flat all day, and Jake was just spraying and praying. John Fox had the look of a guy staring down the firing squad with a cigarette dangling out of his mouth. It's amazing how a guy that can make Herm Edwards look so inept can turn around a week later and be made to look just the same by a guy who strongly resembles Chucky.
It was an embarrassing display of how not to play football. An emotionless, listless, uninspiring bag of dick.
So basically it's just like every other Panther game
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