With the NFL season about to kickoff, Scratchbomb has asked a few luminaries to give us their takes on the upcoming football season. Next up, Monsanto’s experiment number X47-21A, also known as the Cow-Boy.

Despite my appearance, I enjoy football as much as any other red-blooded American male. I say ‘male’ rather than ‘man’ because I can not technically call myself a man. I’m not sure what I can call myself, as what I am exactly has not yet been determined by the FDA. Also, the UN has yet to decide if I have a right to exist, but until then, I will continue to watch the ol’ pigskin being tossed around.

Of course, it’s not an actual pigskin. The NFL uses a synthetic pigskin, made from a real synthetic pig. One of them used to stay in the same lab as me. His name was Gerald. I was real proud when he got into a Chargers-Raiders game a few seasons ago.

I watch lots of football in my room on the Monsanto Dynamic Solutions campus. I like it almost as much as when Dr. Tarsus allows me to stretch and graze in my lawn-pen. Naturally, people assume I’m a Cowboys fan, but I like the Texans better. We see them more often in our local market, and I love Andre Johnson. He moves like a gazelle. In fact, he moves a lot like this half-gazelle/half-jaguar creature that used to live here, last seen leaping the walls in a vain attempt at freedom. I heard they had to call in black helicopters to take him down.

However, I can recognize the Cowboys’ strengths, and I feel they shall prevail in the NFC East this season. I’m afraid they have too many offensive weapons, and their defense is too formidable, to be overtaken in what may shape up to be a weak division. Tony Romo finally proved he can win a playoff game, and though he faltered against Minnesota in the divisional round, he gained a lot of valuable experience.

I know there’s a lot of Cowboys haters out there, but please don’t shoot the messenger! I’ve gotten enough shots today as it is. I require 37 daily injections so my four stomachs won’t consume themselves.

There used to be a nice lady in a white coat who fed me from a bottle and stroked the nape of my neck. She is gone now.

I look up and down this division and see so many question marks. The Giants’ defense has been wracked by injury and ineffectiveness, and Eli Manning–despite having a Super Bowl ring–makes mistakes that a quarterback of his experience really should not. Much like my old keeper, Dr. Crenshaw, was devoured by his worst mistake, the fearsome Raptor-Man.

The Redskins, I’m afraid, having little going for them to begin with, and they certainly don’t need the Albert Haynesworth mess distracting them even further. Donovan McNabb might have something left in the tank, but who knows how long he can stay healthy.

I’d also like to call on Washington to eschew their racist nickname, as it is degrading and dehumanizing. I know what it’s like to be dehumanized, or at least to be never fully humanized.

As for the Eagles, regardless of the year McNabb has, I believe they will miss him. Relying on Kevin Kolb or Michael Vick to turn in a solid season is like relying on my fingers to stop reforming themselves into hooves.

Sometimes life seems like a cruel joke played on me and me alone.

I can’t say how far the Cowboys will go this year. Injuries can ruin any team’s chances, and perhaps some young rookie will emerge and energize another team into contention. But I think it’s safe to say they’re the team to beat in the NFC East. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to submit to my thrice daily nutrient-rich spine injection to prepare for the blood quickening.