Let us establish first and foremost that what Michael Vick was found guilty and sentenced to two years in prison for (the organization of a dog fighting ring along with brutal torture of losing animals) was wrong, immoral and generally disgusting. It’s not funny or a matter to be taken lightly in any way. Anyone guilty of a similar crime in the future should be punished within the full extent of the law.

Got all that? Good. Now let’s talk about our treatment of Mr. Vick from here on out.

Last week, Vick’s agent claimed his client had just signed a deal with Nike. Within hours, the vitriol came full blush from the thousands of vocal detractors he’s developed in the last few years. The bile grew acidic enough that Nike was compelled to deny the agent’s claims. Nike said it only supplied the disgraced superstar with gear (read: Nike was sniffing around the idea of signing the still-popular Vick, then panicked at the backlash and decided he wasn’t worth it).

Certainly, there’d be no shortage of people who would see Vick’s lack of endorsements as all too justified. Those people will never believe the man can be punished enough. The guy tortured dogs, killed ‘em and profited from it. But you know what else he did? Time. He languished in jail as his reputation was dogged (pun!) and the millions he was promised from endorsements all went to the dogs too (pun again!).

To those people I ask what is a just punishment for Vick? And from here on, what do you suggest he do?

Let’s take the last question first. What should Vick do now? He’s been under a microscope – not only while in jail and house arrest – but ever since he returned to the NFL. And what missteps has he taken? He’s admitted publicly to his wrongdoing. Said he fully regretted his actions. He’s gone on numerous forums to speak out against animal cruelty. He hasn’t caused a stir among his teammates in Philadelphia or in the press. He’s been humble and above all else – quiet. What else can people ask of him? They could ask that he donate his money to anti-cruelty animal organizations, but he has no money. He lost millions. He’s trying to find a way to escape the debt he’s developed since his incarceration (another manner in which he’s paid for his crime). Perhaps it won’t always be this way, but for now Vick can’t afford to donate money to … anything.

“Good,” many of you will respond. “I hope that monster dies millions of dollars in debt.” And this response brings us to that first question: What would have been a just punishment for Michael Vick’s crimes? If two years in jail, sudden financial instability and a permanently crippled reputation wasn’t a meaty enough sentence, what would be?

Wait. Before you answer, let me counter-argue the point you haven’t yet made. I’m referring to the sweetness and innocence of the dogs Vick helped torture. Murder in any form is unimaginable. But can we not agree that there is a hierarchy of murder and that humans – not dogs – are at the top of it?

In the end, we’re just talking about dogs. Wait (again). Let me put on my athletic supporter before I continue this paragraph. I know how much people love dogs. But should Vick have been tried as if he was running a human-fighting ring? Had Vick been caught cockfighting or forcing birds to peck at one another, there’s no way Michel Vick would have been seen as the neanderthal beastmaster he’s seen as today. Society’s love for dogs, even beat-up pitbulls, is what has shaped the perception surrounding him. If we’re going to put dogs on the same hierarchical plain as humans, it would mean that the next time you run over your neighbor’s Labradoodle backing out of the driveway, you’ve got a manslaughter charge coming your way. Is that fair?

That eye rolling from you, dear reader, no doubt stems from my audacity at comparing the mutilation and eventual murder of pets to a hypothetical accident. And undoubtedly, most of you would stop just short of having dogs ranked on the same level as humans in court. Just as most of you would have Vick’s sentence stop just short of the death penalty for his actions. So what should it be? No money, no more football, must dedicate the remainder of his life to the care and keeping of animals? That sound about right?

Then what was his time in jail all about? Why are so many people unwilling to let him remove the scarlet letter? How can so many deride Vick for his cruelty while simultaneously refusing to keep their own cruelty in check? Either he’s paid his dues or he hasn’t. If he hasn’t, then your resentment should be leveled against the U.S. justice system, not Vick. And if you believe he’s paid his dues than that belief must necessarily be all-encompassing or it’s a lie to call it a belief in the first place. He’s done his time, paid his price and if there are teams that want to pay him a salary or corporations that want him to be the face of their brand then now, after two years, then they are his for the taking.

You don’t have to like it, but trying to convince others that it’s wrong is more of a blight against your moral compass than the society you’re living in.

Ask yourself if you believe Michael Vick – given the opportunity – would ever fight dogs again. If you believe that he wouldn’t, isn’t that result the purpose of paying a penance in the first place? Hasn’t the effect Vick’s last two years has had on him yielded the best results one could hope for?

Expecting additional restitution for a crime he’s already squared off the books speaks more to our inability to forgive than it does to Vick’s inability to reform.

I can’t even say his name. Whenever I try, my mouth gums up as if filled with taffy. Until his most recent un-retirement, I was unaware that the human tongue could wear out and malfunction from repeatedly forming the same sounds. It can and it has. So, you won’t be hearing me say his name. He’s like Voldemort or the Lord when I’m speaking in vain.

It didn’t always used to be this way. He-Who-Shan’t-Be-Named used to be a hero. At the end of the 2005 season he was Paul Bunyan, John Henry and the Jolly Green Giant all in one. He was 464 career touchdowns, 65,127 career passing yards and the 1996 Superbowl champion; and it was these things that would protect him in the NFL afterlife like the Armor of God.

But then he couldn’t walk away from the spotlight. He wasn’t interested in helping his teams. If he were, he’d have acted differently. He’d have made up his mind quicker, deferred to younger backup quarterbacks when necessary, spent March and April doing his retirement considerations instead of June and July.

Like Norma Desmond watching her silent film career crumble with every new “talkie,” so too has He-Who-Shan’t-Be-Named. It’s affecting his legacy. ESPN polls from last week show that 54 percent of fans believe Minnesota won’t make it past the first round of the playoffs. Another revealed that 68 percent don’t think he’s good for football. When asked if he had ruined his reputation among Packer fans, 74 percent said either he had ruined it with by signing with the Vikings or had ruined it long ago.

Instead of Paul Bunyan, he’s turned into Paul Reubens. Instead of John Henry, he’s become John Wayne … but not the dignified elder “Red River” John Wayne, but the asthmatic “True Grit” John Wayne with the eye patch.

It’s nothing new for an athlete to wear out his welcome, nor is it new for athletes to struggle with the limelight going out on them, but what we’re seeing here is a systematic destruction of 15 years of a Hall of Fame career, which is unprecedented in any other sport. The same way O.J. Simpson’s legacy is four parts murder and thievery and one part 11,236 career rushing yards for Buffalo, He-Who-Shan’t-Be-Named has gone from five parts greatness to three parts greatness, one part mediocre final act and one part selfish wanker who left football with as much class as the Clintons left the White House. Just as Barry Bonds will be as remembered for steroids as he will for hitting 762 home runs, so to will Green Bay fans continue to create t-shirts like the one on the right.

Honestly, could you have imagined something like this being worn by a Packer fan four years ago? Arguably no one has done more damage to their reputation without doing something illegal than No. 4 has. Wisconsin is his Mecca. If he’s losing his base, imagine what the bandwagoneers and fairweathers must think? Unless he’s being plastered all over ESPN’s slow weekday broadcasts, or suspiciously paraded out (from retirement) in front of the public to take the heat off of Michael Vick’s return to the NFL,* fans probably don’t think of him at all.

And that must kill He-Who-Shan’t-Be-Named. To be thought of is really all he wants; all he’s ever wanted.

But just as John Henry died after over-exerting himself swinging a hammer, Paul Bunyan died in secrecy and the Jolly Green Giant was urged to resign after marrying longtime partner Sprout in a Iowa, so too will He-Who-Shan’t-Be-Named eventually retire from the spotlight. But with every year that it doesn’t happen, he becomes less of a legend and more of a has-been lost in an importance that doesn’t really exist.

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* Perhaps the best rumor that I’ve heard is one that suggests this most recent un-retirement was orchestrated by the NFL. Although some suggest He-Who-Shan’t-Be-Named simply didn’t feel like putting in a lot of time at training camp, it’s also possible that he was ready to go a month ago when he announced that he’d stay retired. Knowing the Michael Vick signing was imminent and would be widely seen as a black eye for football, the NFL opted to hold off on their Minnesota ace until they needed a sure-fire distraction from the Vick situation.

What more sure-fire distraction could there be than a marquee QB un-retiring again?

The Viking’s website had his face slickly plastered on the team’s homepage, the store page was updated – both within minutes of him coming out of retirement. The unnamed Viking (who has since been named – sorta) who was positive No. 4 would be a Viking within days, despite everything pointing to the contrary added a little flair of Oliver Stone conspiracy theorism. Then there was the odd timing of the un-retirement being announced 18 hours after the Vick interview on “60 Minutes” was hitting the air (four days after Vick was signed by the Eagles) …

Really, it’s the most logical theory for an illogical situation centered around one of the most illogical superstars in football history.

You heard it here first.

Photos courtesy of Flickr

Well, it finally happened.

Almost two years after his guilty plea, Michael Vick is back on a team.

The fact Vick will be back in the league is a major risk for the Eagles, what with the massive backlash he could receive the first time he enters a game. Philly also gambled by altering their team chemistry with a potentially massive distraction. And there’s a high chance protesters will show up to practices and picket outside of games.

But aside from all the negativity that surrounds Vick, there are reasons to like this signing. If anything, Philly just made the 2009 season far more interesting.

1. The Eagles haven’t had many offensive weapons since T.O. left

As it would have been with any team he signed with, Vick’s arrival adds a new dimension to the Eagles. In the post-T.O. era, Philly has largely been known for its swarming defense and its lack of playmakers around McNabb. That changed slightly last year with the emergence of DeSean Jackson, but Philly was working with an almost no-name offense before the Vick signing.

As everyone knows, Vick is a weapon. That’s why teams are interested in him. Somewhere in Vick is that 46-yard TD run in overtime against Minnesota in 2002. His speed could still be there, even after two years in prison. And if Philly can make use of that, it’s going to get dirty.

2. The NFC East got even nuttier

You gotta love it. The NFC East already has the biggest stadium, a recent Super Bowl champ and a perennial underachiever that paid through the nose for Albert Haynesworth. As Michael Scott would say, the only thing that would make this better is ice cream.

Relatively, the Eagles stayed pretty quiet before the Vick signing compared to the division rivals. The only real change with Philly was the loss of Brian Dawkins and the addition of several promising rookies.

But now, instead of simply watching Haynesworth crash through Philly’s offensive line, the fat load might have to chase down Vick in their late November game. And when the Eagles and Cowboys meet up in Arlington in the regular season finale, how great will it be if Vick becomes a factor in deciding who makes the playoffs?

For pure entertainment value, the NFC East is now too good to miss.

3. The Eagles travel to Atlanta on December 6

Don’t think we won’t hear about this one for a month leading up to it. Not only do the Eagles play the Falcons, but it’s also at a point in the season where Vick will be reinstated. Oh, and the game is in Atlanta.

It’s going to get personal, and it will certainly get awkward. Atlanta made him the highest-paid player in the league, only to have him drag the entire city through this two year suffer-fest. There are going to be boos, but it might be some mixed emotions. Vick broke Atlanta’s heart, but you know the city still has some feelings for him.

More than likely, though, that won’t stop Atlanta citizens from raining down some hate in the Georgia Dome in December. There’s almost too much pent-up emotion for one game with this one.

4. Kevin Kolb might have altered the fate of the NFL this season

It’s great to think that this NFL season might have been forever altered by Kevin Kolb.
In case you forgot, Kolb is a second round pick from the University of Houston that the Eagles drafted in 2007. In terms of football pedigree, he’s a relative nobody. And yet, Kolb was drafted by the Eagles as a message to Donovan McNabb that they’re tired of hoping he’ll stay healthy.

Kolb hasn’t pushed McNabb for playing time in the past two years. But, wouldn’t you know it, he did managed to injure his MCL this week.

That begs the question of whether the Eagles had their eyes on Vick all along, or whether he became an insurance policy once Kolb injured his knee. If Vick was the insurance policy, was it a very smart bet? He can’t play until midseason, meaning the Eagles are stuck with A.J. Feeley as a backup should Kolb continue to be unavailable.

If they were looking at Vick all along, then this is no big deal. But we’d prefer to think that lowly Kevin Kolb set this entire story into motion.

5.  This signing helps McNabb initially, but it’s a threat to him over time

Vick’s presence isn’t exactly a vote of confidence toward McNabb. Sure, Vick will probably serve some sort of specialty role this season, be it a situational receiver, Wildcat QB, whatever. But what happens in year two, when Vick could be back to his former self? Are we looking at a training camp battle between Vick and McNabb in 2010?

Or in an even more likely scenario, what if McNabb gets hurt this season? It’s not hard to imagine it happening. He’s only played a full regular season five times in his career. And if we’re talking a mid to late-season injury, the Eagles could easily take Vick over Kolb or Feeley.

No matter the scenario, all of a sudden McNabb will have a very capable QB breathing down his neck. It hasn’t happened yet, but it will.

Last week, Forbes Magazine, through E-Poll surveys, polled its readers and compiled a top 10 list of the most disliked people in sports. I was confused at first why it was Forbes and not, say, Sports Illustrated executing such a poll. I mean, these are sports figures we’re talking about, isn’t ESPN’s magazine better equipped? Forbes may not be the foremost expert on sports, but flip through any issue of their magazine or click on any page of their web site … dudes know a lot about hateable personalities.

But the list isn’t as much of a reflection of the Forbes company as it is about the company’s readers (ages 13 and up). And what’s reflected is a severe case of “lemmingism.” Everyone who made the list makes sense, but are they a true reflection of the most disliked sports figures?

I mean, hockey is one of the five largest sports in the country (and Canada, if you care) and no one from the NHL represented. Most of the names you’ll see here are hated because of overexposure more than their actions that caused the overexposure. Can they be blamed for that? And if they can, why isn’t Erin Andrews at the top of this list? (She’s not) Heck, one of these guys retired 17 years ago. Is that the best (worst) Forbes readers could come up with? Do they even follow sports?

In the words of the 10th most disliked athlete, “you cannot be serious.”

1. Michael Vick
Why he’s here? Yeah, okay. This isn’t surprising. He had dogs kill one another in his off time. Honestly, if Vick had murdered a human, his jail sentence would have been longer, but he’d be no more hated than he is now.
Does he belong? I’ll put it this way … yes. Yes, he does.
Possible replacement Brett Favre. Vick’s infamy was brutal and awful, but it was also original. You know what isn’t original? Brett Favre’s annual hijacking of the sports pages while he decides if he wants to be a professional suckwad or a retired suckwad. Most of the guys on this list are on here because people are tired of hearing about them. On that front, Favre is head, shoulders and suckwad ahead of everyone else.

2. Manny Ramirez
Why he’s here? Steroids. He used ‘em. He got caught for using ‘em and he missed almost a third of the season for using ‘em.
Does he belong? Dodger fans don’t think so. Manny gets L.A. fans giggly-er than girls at a sleepover.
Possible replacement Sean Avery. I wanted to put a woman on here, but I’m unconvinced that Serena Williams counts. I guess Avery is as close as we’re going to get. I mean, c’mon … these are women’s sunglasses, dude. New York’s self-proclaimed bad boy has literally lobbied to be marketed like a WWE villain, which is not only a tacit admittance that he’s a wanker on the ice, but he’s seemingly badmouthed every last one of his hot and famous ex-girlfriends. Anyone who badmouths Elisha Cuthbert: unlikable. That’s a rule.

3. Alex Rodriguez
Why he’s here? Overexposure. Perhaps the overwhelming disgust for both Madonna and Kate Hudson has spilled over onto him as well.
Does he belong? If you take into account America’s tendency to convert jealousy into hatred along with the fact that he’s dating a movie starlet, makes $25 million a year to play a game in the most famous city in the world and cheated so as to help him achieve all these things, then yeah. I reckon he belongs.
Possible replacement Kyle Busch. This little pipsqueak. This picture best illustrates why he really ought to have made this list. And if you’re a NASCAR apologist, then what about when he snapped the Nashville Superspeedway Les Paul guitar trophy into shards ’cause he was just so gosh darned excited. A-Rod’s a tool that seems embarrassed by himself a lot of the time. Busch shares no such embarrassment.

4. Terrell Owens
Why he’s here? An inability to censor his narcissism.
Does he belong? He belongs for the amount of time various media outlets have spent talking about him over the years, but generally, Owens has done very little to warrant the ire of the American people. At worst, he’s been a bad teammate. Then again, his statistics suggest he’s made his teams better. It’s all about perception.
Possible replacement Tom Brady. Oh no! Not my sweet Tom. What’s he ever done to anyone except urinate awesomeness and use unicorn horns to pick Superbowl glory out of his teeth? Well go ask Bridget Moynahan. He knocked up Coyote Ugly, split while she was pregnant, ignored the birth while pretending not to ignore the birth, hooked up with a Brazilian supermodel (superfluous pic here) and impotently allowed her to treat Moynahan’s kid as if it were her own. Oh, then he had the gall to skip the 2008 season. So I ask you, what’s worse: being a bad teammate with good stats or being a bad husband, father and man with no stats?

5. Kobe Bryant
Why he’s here? Smugness and possibly rape. Mostly smugness.
Does he belong? For the smugness? Yes. For the possible rape? I’d have to visit Denver a few more times to say for certain.
Possible replacement Fedor Emelianenko. People just don’t like it when someone so obviously talented doesn’t need fans’ approval to stay talented. We don’t like when talented people clamor for it either (see: Rod, A) but when you’re good and you know it and no one can do a damn thing about it, it tends to alienate fans. Fans want to feel a part of it all and when they know they’re not a part of any of it, it pisses them off. Now you tell me, which one of these two was I just talking about?

6. Allen Iverson
Why he’s here? Because people like “gangsters,” not “gangstas.”
Does he belong? Iverson hasn’t been relevant in two years. Right now, only three teams have shown any interest in paying him to play basketball and one of those teams is in Greece. Hating an irrelevant Iverson is like hating the words to a song a toddler just wrote.
Possible replacement Mark Cuban. If the fine readers over at Forbes want to flippantly throw Iverson on here because he came into the NBA with cornrows and tattoos and everyone was depressed that Michael Jordan was gone, that’s fine. Now allow me to retort by submitting my own irrationally-justified basketball personality. Mark Cuban is loud, he picks fights with players, his hair is often mussed, he likes Jason Kidd too much, his cha-cha-cha is a 1/2-step too slow and he was accused of insider trading. But go ahead, convince me a neck tattoo is worse.

7. Isiah Thomas
Why he’s here? Sexual harassment … and because he hasn’t done anything well since 1993.
Does he belong? Oh yeah. He might have tried to kill himself and when it didn’t work, he might have tried convincing authorities that his daughter was the one who was ill. Also he sexual harassed a woman (not daughter related).
Possible replacement I had a whole case for either Al Davis or George Steinbrenner and although they both totally deserve to be on here, the readers polled by Forbes accidentally got this one right. Isiah Thomas is awful.

8. Stephon Marbury
Why he’s here? Sociopathology.
Does he belong? Absolutely not. Oh sure he’s been a locker room cancer on each of the last four teams he’s played before arriving in Boston, but few noticed until he got to New York and became Isiah Thomas’ cancer. But seeing as how Thomas is more disliked than Starbury, isn’t this a clear-cut case of “the enemy of my enemy is my friend?” Friends don’t put friends on disliked lists. Think of it this way: Stephon Marbury builds the character of every NBA player with whom he comes in contact. Good for the game.
Possible replacement Brock Lesnar. And since very often “bad” is good for the game, who better to illustrate this than the UFC’s Brock Lesnar? Look, you don’t get more white than Brock. He’s a 6-foot-3, 265-pound farm boy who lives and trains in the Minnesota woods, has a drooling problem, drinks Coors and signifies that “he’s No. 1″ with the wrong fingers. He’s thoroughly unlikeable, yet UFC has never been more popular. It’s far more fun to hate than to love.

9. Nick Saban
Why he’s here? Bullying. Lying. Willfully living in Alabama.
Does he belong? Nah. For $32 million, I’d probably live in Alabama too. But I wouldn’t talk to anybody.
Possible replacement Brett Favre (again). Yes, but what better way to emphasize how disliked he is than by having him wear out his welcome on this list, just as he’s worn out his welcome in the NFL. Remember in “Mike Tyson’s Punch-Out” when you beat Bald Bull and then later in the game a meaner, tougher Bald Bull returned? Such is Favre. Just when his awfulness seems to subside, another offseason arrives and it takes three star punches to get him to go away.

10. John McEnroe
Why he’s here? Because he was really outspoken three decades ago.
Does he belong? About as much as a polar bear at the Pyramids.
Possible replacement O.J. Simpson. McEnroe was a loudmouth infamous for throwing hissyfits (and rackets) and complaining about almost every call that didn’t go his way. Essentially he was an NBA player. But all of this happened in the past. He’s retired from the pro tour now. So if inactive players are suddenly eligible for this list, why not pick an athlete who, you know, probably murdered two people? Bonus: How great would it be to have two Buffalo Bills in the top 10?

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Vick, Ramirez, Rodriguez, McEnroe photos courtesy of Yahoo! Sports via Getty Images
All other photos courtesy of Flickr

Former New Jersey forward Jayson Williams and his sordid and ultra-violent past are old news. But every once in a while a story reveals itself to be too surreal not to share. “The Jayson Williams Dog Story” is an example of such a revelation. The story itself isn’t new, it happened in 2001 and was submitted as evidence in Williams’ 2004 trial. Unfortunately, the submission was denied because the statute of limitations on criminal charges has expired on that incident. So the details of “The Jayson Williams Dog Story” were left unknown.

Until now.

So what am I talking about? Come follow me as I provide running commentary through former NBA center Dwayne Schintzius‘ retelling of the incident. For those that aren’t familiar, Dwayne “The Lobster” Schintzius played with Williams and also testified in his trial that he witnessed “The Jayson Williams Dog Story.” He also has that mullet, which deserves a blog post of its own.

This is an approximate transcription of the story he told Rock Riley of WDAE 620 radio in Tampa on Thursday.

I was spending the weekend with Jayson. He had recently suffered a career ending injury and cashed in his $87 million insurance policy from Lloyds of London. Holy Hell! Who is this Lloyd and why did he give someone like Jayson Williams an $87 million insurance policy? He lived in a 31,000 square foot mansion on 300 acres. It’s always weird to me when someone knows so much information about someone else’s stuff. I’m not even sure how many square feet my apartment is, much less the acreage of my friends’ house. It was like a compound.  Anyway, one night we are hanging out, and he had this 150 pound rottweiler named Duke. Of course he was named Duke. Anyway, Jayson was talking about how tough Duke was, and I bet him $100 that I could drag Duke out the front door by his back legs. That’s a weird bet, right? Only a man with a three-foot mullet would think to make a bet like that. The front door was about 15-20 feet away. Oh, so that’s a little less weird then. If only Michael Vick’s dog pens were 15-20 inches shallower, people wouldn’t have been so down on the guy.

Anyway, so he agreed to the bet, and the game was on. Suddenly, Jayson started shouting attack commands to Duke, trying to get him to maul me. If that’s not a bet forfeiture, I don’t know what is. I started baby talking Duke, ‘Come on big fella, how are you Duke?’, etc. Rottweilers love baby talk. So do grizzly bears and barracudas. So Duke lays down on his side for me to scratch his belly, Whaaa?! and so I scratch his belly and drag him out the door. I said to Jayson ‘OK now pay up’. Jayson says ‘OK I’ll be right back’ and goes back inside the house and upstairs. Uh-oh.

After a minute or two, Jayson comes back down with a double barrel shotgun. Without a word, he pumps a round into Duke’s side … at which point Schintzius calmly finished his Labatt’s and then blows his head off with the next shot. … at which point Schintzius is thinking that Williams’ $100 will not be forthcoming. He then reloads, points the shotgun at my head from a foot away and says ‘Schintz, get this ******* dog cleaned up and out of here, or you’re next.’ If I ever have a gun pointed to my head, I hope no one calls me by my nickname while they threaten me. I said ‘Please Jayson, just don’t kill me.’

His brother … who was in the den playing Playstation? and I ended up picking up Duke and taking him to a spot on the property and burying him. Out of spite, I hope they only dug a 4 1/2-foot hole. That’ll teach him! Jayson had gone to bed by the time we got back to the house. The next morning I woke up, He STILL slept there?! walked into the kitchen, and there was Jayson wearing a ‘Kiss the Cook’ apron, making pancakes with … don’t say dog bits, don’t say dog bits … a big smile on his face (whew), acting like nothing had happened … just like my girlfriend the nights after she gets drunk and makes fun of me in front of all my friends.

Apparently Schintzius and Williams were friends in 2001, but by 2004 Dwayne was testifying at his murder trial. It’s got to be because Williams made him bury bits of Williams’ dog and didn’t own up to the bet, right?  See? Eight years after it happened, five years after it was mentioned publicly and 30 years before Schintzius cuts that mullet, we have the craziness of “The Jayson Williams Dog Story.” Tell me your week isn’t made. No? Well how ’bout one more Lobster picture before you go. Y’know … to end on a high note.

There. Don’t say I never did nothin’ for you.

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Photos courtesy of Flickr