Since we feel bad leaving you with Pablo Escobar, a genuinely rotten human being, we offer this Bonus Mustache Wednesday Bonus ’stache: Swedish Chef, someone who really has brought happiness to the whole world, save for a few huffy and very sensitive Swedes.

BORK BORK BORK!!!

For some of Swedish Chef’s classics, check the jump. We’re partial to chocolate mousse, though lobster banditos is proof drug use can lead to great comedy.

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Being a Florida-sympathetic blog, we can’t believe we haven’t featured this particular nose skirt yet on Mustache Wednesday, since much of Florida’s explosive economic growth in the 1970s and 80s can be attributed to him and the industry he dominated until his involuntary retirement from the business.

That said, our Mustache Wednesday ‘Stache Of The Day is…

Pablo Escobar, pharmaceutical salesmen to a continent, murderer, and mustache-sporting owner of caves full of rotting dollar bills.

Happy Mustache Wednesday, motherfuckers!

Idaho football, wading out of the jetwash of Dennis Erickson’s departure, has been rocked by a slew of cocaine charges and other relatively petty charges involving Vandals football players. (Pause…sip the delicious irony.)

The most egregious of all may have happened this week: textbook fraud. GET ‘EM CONAN!!!

Idaho players were engaging in theft by stealing textbooks, then immediately taking them to the open end-of-semester textbook buyback, something bookstore employees noticed immediately since football players are prohibited by rule from participating in buyback if their scholarship includes a book stipend. The U of I’s bookstore will not prosecute, however, due to you bloodsucking bastard lawyers, you:

“If we go to the police, it’s very expensive to prosecute,” Godwin said. “If I’m talking about finding a $50 book, then the student judiciary board is effective enough.”

Therefore we make no Fulmer Cup points rain on the Vandals. Conan’s revenge, btw, is complete: the three players lost their scholarships as a result of the thefts, meaning they traded in thousands of dollars in scholly cash for a few hundred bucks. Your finance textbook would formally file that investment under “boondoggle.” (HT: Frank.)

Congratulations! Police are very interested in speaking with you. In case you wondered, this is not a good thing, which means the congratulations was completely ironic. Chances are this whole thing will suck very much badly for you, LSU football player Chris Mitchell, since at the least you’ll spend a tense couple of hours sweating out police questioning in a Louisiana police office. And if that’s not on your list of things to avoid going through in this lifetime, it damn well should be on it.

Acknowledging they have more questions than answers, Jefferson Parish sheriff’s officials said Tuesday they are eager to speak with LSU football player Chris Mitchell about a weekend drive-by shooting and gunfight outside a popular but controversial Metairie nightclub.

The Sunday morning melee outside Kenny’s Key West in Fat City left two men wounded, 50 bullet casings and a few live rounds in the club’s parking lot and surrounding blocks.

Fifty bullet casings? FIFTY? Archenemies don’t have fifty bullets worth of hate attached to them, much less anyone hanging out at “Kenny’s Key West” in Fat City. Some John Woo movies haven’t featured the firing of fifty bullets. (Completely false. That’s usually the first ten minutes, including peaceful exposition scene.) Like a John Woo movie, whoever fired all those bullets likely did it with a 9mm handgun. Gun nuts, remind us–does that mean this person reloaded? Several times?

Even Chow-Yun Fat Thinks you’re being excessive.

Mitchell isn’t charged in the case, but police have hit a dead end in their investigation, and know Mitchell was there at the time of the shooting. This could be because no one at the scene is “snitching,” and thus allowing someone who discharged up to fifty rounds in public indiscriminately to walk around eating sandwiches. That is so completely and totally cool of all of them! YAY SNITCHES GET STITCHES!

Our guest columnist is Bandwagon Fan.

Dear sir or madam,

I am writing you today to express my interest in the position of being your bandwagon fan this season for your team. I am a charismatic, dynamic individual capable being a real asset to your organization, a change agent with people skills and a feel for sealing the deal.

I am also in possession of a neutral color foam finger, four burner gas grill, and a tailgating budget of several thousand dollars.

‘Sup. Bandwagon fan here.

I am an exceptional bandwagon fan with a long and storied history of backing only the finest teams as dictated by preseason magazines. This year I am, as always, leaving my options open, but am leaning strong toward USC and LSU, both large programs with multiple television appearances this year. I plan to choose my team around week five, hedge until week nine, and then hit top form somewhere around week eleven when my team’s appearance in a BCS bowl is all but assured.

My illustrious career includes:

–In the BCS title game, I executed a flawless Podenski Float maneuver across my local sports bar following Florida’s first quarter against Ohio State, crossing over from the Ohio State section to the Florida without detection. (more…)

Because “Cult of Personality” sounds totally awesome at 6:36 in the a.m.

If you haven’t had the chance to listen to EDSBS Live yet, the “Does Notre Dame Exist?” Show is a fine place to start. (Subscribe via ITunes here.) Jay from BGS and Brian from MGoBlog excelled in our admitted farce of a debate, which was scored about as closely as an episode of “Whose Line Is It, Anyway?” or a Florida election. A HUNDRED COCKTAILS for both, certainly.

Notre Dame: pretty sure they exist after last night. They have a website–they must exist!

(And for the record, we’re convinced that Notre Dame exists. Going there for a game last fall certainly helps that assumption. So does, like, a billion responses on the ND episode thread, which was, of course, part of the gag all along–mentioning them is like wearing a carrion suit in the middle of the Mojave and praying for the arrival of vultures. You’re gonna get company.)

We can’t go a day without mentioning West Virginia football, and not always for the right reasons. Perhaps former running back Jason Gwaltney, a rising 2005 star for the Mountaineers, would have been better off fucking fat chicks in haystacks on Saturday. It would have also been nice if he’d arranged similar entertainment for WVU’s starting safety Quinton Andrews, who got entangled in Gwaltney’s arrest.

Andrews was charged with obstructing an officer. Gwaltney was charged with underage consumption of alcohol, speeding and failure to produce an operator’s license.

Gwaltney, much ballyhooed at one time, got injured in 2005 after playing six games. He’s had two academic strokes at WVU, and is not currently enrolled. Andrews is assessed one Fulmer Cup point for the obstruction charge. Gwaltney’s points do not count, as he is currently sitting out the Fulmer Cup with a sprained cerebrum.

Terry Hoeppner may not make it back to coach for Indiana this fall, a bit of news which makes your innards twist in the worst possible way when you hear it. Indiana AD Rick Greenspan makes it somehow sound worse, a considerable accomplishment, by taking the issue public in an awkward way in an interview, and all but insinuating “Hey, he’s not coming back, we may need to hire a new head coach, and you should prepare for that.”

Hoeppner: ominous news.

Best wishes to Hoeppner and Indiana football, whose biblical curse of a football history continues in the form of their first decent coach in eons getting struck with a brain tumor. Again, you don’t have to make stuff up–most of the time, you just have to write it down.

New Stanford coach Jim Harbaugh, who bows to no man and just wishes you would, motherfucker, is working the admissions department at Stanford already.

At long last, the Hot Blogger Brackets are up at Ladies… We’re in the Campbell division and just asking for a first round victory and graceful second round defeat, especially since we’re using Tim Tebow as our picture.

In all fairness, however, you can find our actual image and voice on Youtube any ol’ time thanks to Irishoutsider, who captured us on video last fall after the ND/Georgia Tech game talking about why you get strong drinks at gay bars.

Like the hammered, sweaty, illegitimate love child of Dwight Schrute and Jack Black…and attempting to talk in the middle of a Nightlife Decathlete evening. It doesn’t get much sexier than that.