Everyday Should Be Saturday

March 3, 2006

THE WEEK THAT WILL BE

Up for next week:

–Paul Finebaum: The EDSBS interview!

–Meatnormity Continues: Coaches’ Death Match results.

–Our Spring Previews of Auburn and Georgia.

–College Football Poetry: Volume Two

–The requisite profanity, wire items, and other bloggers’ work soldered together into a gooey, unnutritious but delicious mess.

Oh, and something to send you off for the weekend:

(duh-nuh NAAAH-nuh) Hey Gary!
(duh-nuh NAAAH-nuh) Hey Gary!
You’re trapped in a Vietnamese jail!

Rammer Jammer Yellow Hammer
Welcome to an Asian slammer!


Hey!

FROM THE MOUTHS OF BABES…

If your wife insists on dragging you to Target, make sure you have a drink first, since being stranded in the Moreland Avenue Target in downtown Atlanta last night proved to be ten times more bearable than usual thanks to a tranq-dart of a martini we drank before entering. (Damned tricky to balance those sloshy glasses while driving a stick-shift, but somehow we prevailed.)

Once we were done perusing the rock-bottom prices on XBox games–being a half-assed Luddite does have its advantages, especially when you’re too cheap to buy a new game system–we tottered our way over to the magazines section. Umm, since they didn’t have Foreign Affairs or The Economist, we had to make our next stop down the ladder and settle for the next logical option…Maxim.

They had the usual lackluster selection of glossy lists and cheesecakey photos of women manicured, constructed, crash-dieted, and surgically enhanced to just several degrees shy of porn stardom. (Again, we think the theory behind this school of female attractiveness is the desperate hope of fat, sweaty middle aged men: if they slept with a thin, rich, and attractive woman, it would prove to be venereally contagious for them, and they would wake up thin, rich, and attractive.) Three of these aforementioned women happened to be the FSU Cowgirls (page 98, we think) in their Maxim spread, which juxtaposed images of them grabbing each other’s sunken ass cheeks with quotes like “We’re not slutty” superimposed over the pictures.

And then, just as we were about to turn the page and learn how to chug beer from a human skull/convince a woman we were actually an international spy/build a pocket nuke from a hot dog wrapper and condiment packets, we saw this quote from the abominably spelled “Chrystal” of the FSU Cowgirls:

“Tallahassee is, like, the only town where you can’t tell the bums from the people who actually go to school there.”

And suddenly, with that one instant and the purchase of a marked-down copy of Splinter Cell: Chaos Theory, going to Target became totally worth it.

We report, you decide.

FULMER CUP ENTRANT: VIRGINIA TECH, COME ON DOWN!!!

Jenkins is steamed: redshirt freshman Ike Whitaker gets suspended from the Hokies for purchasing and possessing alcohol underage. Misdemeanor charges don’t really ruffle anyone’s hairdos in Blacksburg, but it does put Virginia Tech on the board with one point for “drankin’-type tomfoolery.”

Jenkins’ boys make their grand entrance in the Fulmer Cup.

SHRIMP AND PANCAKES

Former Texas safety Michael Huff’s fascination–nay, obsession!–with shrimp and pancakes seems to be gaining steam. In an interview with Texas Sports, Huff expounds on his previous comments and admits that most people…well, most people didn’t know they even had shrimp at IHOP, and that he’s already sizing up his post-NFL career prospects.

Q: So did that include talking about IHOP?

A: Of course, and that drew some chuckles.

Q: So what about buying an IHOP?

A: Yeah, I have to buy an IHOP, then everything will be free. I might change it to International Huff of Pancakes, so it’ll still be IHOP, but it’ll have a Huff in there, but then I can get my favorite meal — shrimp and pancakes.

Q: They have shrimp at IHOP?

A: Yeah, that’s why I go. They have shrimp and pancakes. I think most people don’t know that.

Q: So you’re already pitching to be the spokesperson.

A: That’s all I’ve been doing. In every interview I talk about shrimp and pancakes. In my little diaries, I talk about shrimp and pancakes, so I’m putting it out there.

We found a heart-stopping recipe for shrimp-filled pancakes, which to no one’s surprise comes to us from the great state of Louisiana.(The ideal site for beta-testing your “Home Angioplasty Kit,” if you’re looking for test subjects, by the way.) And we found out that when you Google image search”shrimp and pancakes,” you get a lackluster slate of images. So we challenge Michael Huff: if you’re serious about being the king of shrimp and pancakes, you’ve got to be the first thing popping up when people search the internets. Texas fans, make it happen: make Michael Huff the internet king of shrimp and pancakes.

Michael Huff= shrimp pancakes. Learn it.

FLORIDA SPRING PREVIEW AT GEORGIA SPORTS

Paul’s got a nice mash-up of WATB’s comments and ours on Florida’s spring practice priorities at Georgia Sports. Where he found a picture of someone putting a cattle prod in a rhino’s nose we’ll never know; perhaps they googled “new definition of the term ‘balls.’”

PITT DOES THEIR BEST ROCKY IMPRESSION, MINUS UNSAFE RAW EGG COCKTAILS

The Wannstache never sleeps, instead cranking his players up at 5 in the morning in Pittsburgh to let them know 5-6 won’t be tolerated.(HT: The Wiz) (6-5, though, would be downright Wannstache-alicious, based on his career numbers.) Cheap cracks on Wannstedt aside, the article paints an unenviable picture of a morning workout on the hill in Steeltown:

“The first Friday, it was ugly,” Wannstedt said. “Guys were puking, they were falling out. It was freezing cold, and we had guys who had tears frozen on their faces.”

That also describes any other group of men milling about in Pittsburgh at 5 in the morning, so they should have fit right in with the crowd. The outdoor running does have a certain sadistic element that would fit right in with Mickey “Yes, Master” Marotti, the Florida trainer who stations buckets by mat drill stations for unaccustomed victims to puke in after sessions. The crux of all this being: if you see boulders being rolled uphill early one frosty morning in Pittsburgh, it’s probably not two loaded Steeler fans settling a bet (though don’t rule that out…)

The Wannstache in winter?

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