I don’t even know where to begin talking about the atrocity that was last night’s game in San Francisco.  I exited the sports bar last night around 11:30 pm with a scowl on my face and my arms crossed against my chest to hide the Bears emblem on my tee shirt.  I almost threw a punch at the lone (middle-age, bald, obnoxious) 49ers fan in the bar.  He was wearing a bright red Alex Smith jersey and ebulliently dancing everytime the Bears messed up (frequently).  Seriously?  You moved from San-Fran to Chicago?  Good luck this winter, buddy.

Needless to say, it was a bad night.

Please do not be fooled by the halfway decent record we’ve managed to secure this season. It’s all smoke and mirrors, people. If you watch us play for about ten minutes, you’ll agree: WE SUCK.

In a nutshell, the game went like this: our defense showed up. Taking their cue, it was the offense’s turn for a vacation. (I think they have worked out a schedule to rotate weekly). So basically, we prevented the 49ers from scoring, but we also prevented ourselves from scoring–over and and over again.

I’ll always love Jay Cutler, but I do not love when he throws 5 interceptions in a game that we should have easily won. This was his one chance to shine and to give offensive coordinator wRONg Turner a smackdown stare that says, “Boo-yah!  I deviated from your suck-ass playlist and made a score, so there!” But JayJay failed to execute.  And so we lost.  Again.  For the third week in a row.

As always, Lovie lounged on the sideline dreamily staring off into space while his team jumped into the crapper and flushed away our season, not to mention my hopes and dreams.  I think I’ll wear all black for the remaining games this season as a symbol of mourning.  It’s the proper thing to do.