HAR-BROby Chaz Harbaugh, Senior VP – in charge of sales

OMFG, America, get a room! I get it, my little bros Jim and John are good at coaching football, NOICE. You’ve been tounge-kissing those buttmunches for over a week now. Dudes! Seriously with this Super Bowl shit?! You THINK this Sunday is the Har-Brawl to Settle it All. P’shaw, brosef! They’re just lubin’ you up for Bachelor #3: ME Chaz Harbaugh.

Hey, I’m a coach of sorts too.  Not the sideline, buttslapper kind.  I coach money to turn into more money.  #YOLO!  Lemme admit right off, I’m proud of these two douchebags. I’m not a big sports guy, other than playing a shitload of “Golden Tee” in my basement.  Yeah, I’ve got my own Golden Tee arcade machine. So I ain’t sweatin’ it, brah. Let’s look at facts: I been givin’ the best nougies in the Harbaugh family since the 70s.  No homo.  I been givin’ those knuckleheads, wet willies, wedgies and melvins since we were in diapers.  I gave wicked baby noug’s!  Even got my catch phrase: “Ch-ch-ch-chaaazzzzz, mothafuckaz!” (That’s trademarked, bitches)

Listen, I knew I’d be the most swagilicious Har-Bro from the start. You don’t become the top restaurant-supply salesman in the upper-Midwest region, 3 years running, without being the BEST.  Do you have any idea how many industrial mixers I sold last year?  Shit.  I’m neck-deep in the best poontang in Fond du Lac, Winsconsin and it’s not because I wear khakis to work and a little sharpie around my neck like a fuckin’ choad.  And when that restaurant-supply money train rolls in, I collect that $weet, $weet nut and get MAD extra-cirricular at some investing shit.  This year the Chazster managed the shit out of a certain hedge fund that jacked my portfolio up by 46%! In THIS economy!? C’mon, brah!  I’m squeezin’ Dom Perignon outta Monster Energy cans!  Damn, I just invented a SWEET cocktail.

If you aren’t already nursin’ a raging Har-Boner, pick up a copy of Jetski Enthusiast. You guys read Jetski Enthuisiast magazine, right? Of course you don’t. You poor-ass sports fans complain about $11 beers. My piss is worth twice that. Your ass is never gonna step to the champagne lifestyle of a motherfuckin’ 2-cup-holder-havin’ personal luxury watercraft (That’s WATERcraft, not “Warcraft” for you troll-humpers).  Get your hands on the March 2007 issue and peep that cover, yo. Pretty recognizable mug on that one. Spoiler alert: Chaz Harbaugh, dumbfucks!

Yeah, I’ll let those dickfaces have their moment on Sunday.  You better believe I’m gonna bust the balls of whoever loses!  I ain’t hatin’.  Just sayin’.  Peace!


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