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Since the turn of the century, the New England Patriots have dominated the NFL. Granted, three other franchises (The New York Giants, The Pittsburgh Steelers, and The Baltimore Ravens) have each one two titles in that span, but no other team has been as good for as long. The Patriots are also the organizational equivalent of clitoris gout, for numerous well-documented reasons. No one outside of Boston would piss on a Patriot if it was on fire. (Seriously, if I really had to pee, and ran to the toilet, and there happened to be a New England Patriot standing in the toilet and on fire, I would pee in the sink. And then I would call the police.) And, that Boston happens to be the place these albino roaches call home is apropos. This is the city where people broke into Bill Russell's home and shat in his bed. They are the haughty deodorant crumbs in the armpit of America, but if "America" happened to be "Jesse Helms." Fuck Boston.

The Patriots need to fall. And they will, eventually. Because evil is just too time-consuming to continue for much longer than a decade. That said, it is rather difficult to be very confident about their eventual collapse, because there have already been numerous attempts to expedite their demise. And all have failed. Because those motherfuckers are Darth. There is one strategy that hasn't been employed yet, though. A tactic that, while unconventional, might prove to be the most effective.

The New England Patriots need to become BFFs with Drake.

Drake might be having the best year ever. Every song he releases instantly becomes a hit, he somehow managed to make millennials from Milwaukee to Manhattans refer to their boys and homegirls as their gotdamn fucking "woes," and he single-handedly led Team Light Skinned Man to an improbable come from behind victory over literally everyone else. Unfortunately, when it comes to sports, Drake has an anti-Midas touch. Everyone he's aligned himself with this year — the Kentucky Wildcats, The Seattle Seahawks, the Toronto Raptors, and, sadly, Serena Williams — had their championship aspirations torpedoed by King Woe. As good as he's been at making music, he's arguably better at sabotaging seasons. Which makes him the ultimate bad luck charm. And all the reason why someone needs to convince him to start clubbing with Rob Gronkowski or thrift shopping with Tom and Gisele.

The only question that remains is "How?" How can we convince Drake to start showing up in Foxboro to share shaving tips and Tinder best practices with Julian Edelman? What needs to happen to make this happen? We need an answer. Our futures depend on it.