For now… they are nuggets, stuff - something to entice you back on a daily basis.

Served hot between the Friday-to-Friday whatZgonnahappen columns predicting the weekly NFL, Free CheeZeburgerZ might be about football exclusively, or they might be about football and pop culture or sometimes they may have nothing to do with football. I hope they’ll usually be funny but sometimes they won’t be funny and some of those times, perhaps, not funny will be on purpose. Other times, well, um, sorry. I tried my best.

Free CheeZeburgerZ are American food - vitamins even. Plus football is like Free CheeZeburgerZ because everybody loves Free CheeZeburgerZ. Well maybe not cows, but everyone else loves Free CheeZeburgerZ. And everyone loves the NFL. (It turns out, cows don’t love the NFL. They are all French soccer fans. Stupid cows.)

As I was saying before you began hearing sad and mournful accented mooing in your head, this site has a tasty feature to entice you back day after day. Yes, Free CheeZeburgerZ But unlike every other restaurant in America, these burgerZ are free - and they feature a Z.

Free CheeZeburgerZ, say it again, Free CheeZeburgerZ!

Free CheeZeburgerZ at whatzgonnaphappen.com!

Get it into your head and tell everyone: you need Free CheeZeburgerZ every day!

Tell your friends. Don’t tell your enemies - I don’t like them either!

So, get this….

The cook is working on a brand new recipe to be unveiled before the NFL season is over…

I have been taking prescription-strength cheeseburgers for my arthritis because they are safer on my heart than most of the other drugs on the market. Plus they help me hit homeruns - but let’s keep that between you and me. It seems my newfound prowess has made others angry.

Anyway, last week, I was looking through my favorite pharmaceutical company’s recent catalog trying to decide whether I would look better on a hair-growth drug or a weight-loss supplement when I realized I am depressed that I am not depressed. Then I didn’t think about it for a little while, which made me at least hopeful that I have Adult ADD.

I think something bothers me. Or more accurately - I think, therefore something bothers me. It seems that if there is nothing wrong with you in modern America, something is wrong with you. What is wrong with you? That is the question.

Is it nobler to suffer the slings and arrows of real disease or to succumb to the guilty pressure of jingly advertising? The people selling the snake oil do not care. They just want you to buy their cure. But first, you need assurance that something bothers you.

So I was looking at my toenails and scratching my elbows thinking of all this when in walked my special lady. She smiled at me like she wanted up to four hours of fun - right now!

Suddenly, I had stress and some serious social anxiety disorder. My blood pressure skyrocketed, and my arthritis kicked in so I ate another cheeseburger but that, in turn, bumped my cholesterol up to dangerous levels.

That’s when I discovered that I suffered from simple hunger - and that really is a problem. Sure, I’d recently inhaled a couple of cheeseburgers, but those were used as medicine and therefore didn’t count.

My problem was that I wasn’t lovin’ it. So I had another cheeseburger - had it my way this time - and I chased it with a large soda endorsed by a slim celebrity.

A jingle and my upset stomach sent me singing and dancing into the bathroom but when I looked around afterwards, I became convinced that some subjects should not have a catchy, jingle and choreographed dance steps. Just then, my blood platelets landed the necessary permits to build condominiums in my arteries so I was forced to go on a diet.

When my Adult ADD kicked in, I couldn’t remember if I was supposed to have no carbohydrates or no food from South Beach. I’m not sure what is wrong with the food from South Beach, but I’ve been staying away from it religiously.

That’s how I found religion. Now, I am being recruited much like an athlete is in big-time college football programs. Although I am currently a free agent, my representative, Scott Boras, says that he is not willing to negotiate with some of these teams. There shall be no airport or front door negotiations and, most certainly none involving hoods and long swords. Plus, I’m a home run hitter. I want incentives. Show me the heaven.

When the negotiations inexplicably stalled, I listened to my favorite old rock band and I discovered that what I desperately need is a big truck. I don’t actually know what a hemi is, but I’m convinced I’ve gotta get one because I’ve been having nightmares about a stump.

Finally, I was depressed! This made me ecstatic.

Plus, I was having problems sleeping. For the first time in my adult life, I felt like I belonged. I needed someone to talk to so I joined a group - Donuts Anonymous.

We shared sad tales of starting with our first ecstatic donut only to fall into the abyss of living for circles of dough.

We held hands, drank beer sold by twins, and sang old rock songs into our cell phones. It was a magical evening until someone brought up red-state/blue-state politics and the next thing you know we were looking to control our anger issues. It was a tussle but I was stronger than all the others combined.

And that’s why I always carry a cheeseburger with me.