In Ibsen’s Peer Gynt, a man’s soul is compared to an onion: many-layered, but ultimately hollow. (Scandinavians don’t boast the highest suicide rate for nothin’.) We don’t think that’s true of Al Groh. We think his soul’s more like a watermelon, and if you crack it open, there’s a Betamax tape in a plastic bag. And on that tape, if you manage to unearth a functional Betamax VCR, is a five second clip of Groh in a sleeveless sweatshirt looking right into the camera and saying “Get off my fucking lawn, kid” over and over for an hour.

When asked what he thought about a third of his recruiting class failing to qualify, Groh said “I wouldn’t say (the recruiting class) took a hit…I would say it followed plan.” In addition to being postively [NAME REDACTED]-esque, it’s also quantifiably deranged. This either means Groh’s been drinking antifreeze in the garage all summer while watching old reruns of NYPD Blue (you KNOW he loves him some Dennis Franz), or he really just wants you and your meddling reporter ass to get off his fucking lawn and leave him alone. We’d bet on the latter. (HT: Bill.)


Happy Mustache Wednesday, Motherfucker!