TENNESSEE HATE WEEK BEGINS: TORTURE, MFER
Holly from Ladies…comes over to begin the 96-Hour Hate right: by engaging in redneck death threats with us. (She had the misfortune of attending the University of Tennessee and rooting for its despicable, shitty football team.) Enjoy. Play the David Cross for appropriate soundtrackage.
OS: Torture, motherfucker. Go
Holly: I will fasten you to the front of a train leaving Chicago at 55 mph at noon heading towards another train leaving Boston at 75 mph at 3 PM.
Try and resist its call, Vol fan.OS: I will hand you a packet of silica gel that does not say “DO NOT EAT.” You will then eat it because these are irresistable to people.
Holly: I will send you quail hunting with Anthony Morelli. And employ you as Michael Henig’s Lovely Assistant during his twilight career as a traveling magician.
OS: I will give you a tapeworm and transfer your job to a town without buffet-style family eateries.
Holly: AAAAAHHH I WAS JUST TYPING THIS: “All I have so far is “I will chain you to the door of a crowded Golden Corral, stick my head in the door, and yell “SOMEBODY’S KEYIN’ A TRUCK!”
OS: I will spray you with Aramis, give you a Widespread Panic haircut, and throw you in a pit filled with emo boys with straight razors.
OS: I will leave you in a bar where they only serve European cordials.
OS: I will set you up on a blind date with Andy Dick.
OS: I will make you the cue card holder on James Brooks live. (auburn joke! he can’t read!)
Holly: I will make you a Louisville cheerleader (do they do pushups for points?)
OS: Yes they do. But the joke’s on you! My pecs could use the work.
OS:: I will buy you season tickets to Syracuse football.
Holly: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO you MANIAC
OS: I will die and leave you a large sum of money and an island in the Carribbean…and make it contingent on you attending Syracuse football games for the next decade. All of them.
Holly: [sputter]
OS: You will not get that money
OS: Although an argument could be made that that’s not football.
Holly: True.
Oh, we hate, hate, hate you.OS: I will force you to watch all of Peyton Manning’s victories against Florida. Oh, wait….
Holly: ;dfslgjkas;dlfghadsf;jhgadsoiuygasropuygawernbv;odauzfhb;dzoiohbfh
OS: Then I’ll have to force you to watch his national championship appearances. Wait, um…
Holly: I will force you to clean Danny Wuereufeffel’s Super Bowl Rings.
OS: SNAP!
Holly: All of them.
OS: noudiuhnt
Holly: ohidiuhd
OS: I will make you wash the frosting off Phil Fulmer’s steering wheel. This will take years.
OS: I will force you to play spin the bottle with Jay Mohr.
OS: I will force you to read Jay Mohr.
Holly: UNCALLED FOR.
OS: I will make you BE Jay Mohr.
Holly: Read implies that he writes.
OS: I have no mercy.
Holly: I will chain you to Clay Travis’ next flying apparatus.
OS: I will chain you to clay travis
Holly: …I will chain you to his Titans cheerleader lady?
OS: I could eat her
Holly: Mind the fankicks.
OS: I will have Big Daddy Drew send you pictures of his fire belly dressed up like a whistling man wearing a top hat.
Holly: I will dress you as a fruit stand and cast you in a big-budget action flick. Fruit stands never last, man.
OS: 100 cocktails. We mean, WE HATE YOU AND ALL YOU STAND FOR.
OS: I will name you as Wake Forest’s starting qb in game one of a season.
Holly: That’s just a separated shoulder. Take more to kill me.
Holly: Alternately: I will cast you in a one-episode arc as a love interest of Captain Kirk.
OS: OH, in that instance…I will name you the head coach at Syracuse.
Holly: Awww, don’t bring up Syracuse again. That’s just mean.
Holly: I WILL STUFF YOU INSIDE A MORGANTOWN SOFA.
Holly: ON A SATURDAY NIGHT.
Orson: I will make you a non-stationary flammable object in Columbus, Ohio on Saturday
Holly: It’s unfathomable that we didn’t think of either of those first.
OS: I will turn you into the Tulane football program
Holly: I need a field-rushing happy school to turn you into a goalpost at.
OS: I will turn you into a 24 pack and leave you in Dennis Erickson’s front seat
Holly: I will sell your furniture to one Ellis T. Jones, and send you to collect.
OS: I will tell Mark Mangino you’re made of marzipan
OS: I will tell Mike Tirico that you’re really into him.
Holly: I will dye your skin and hire you to coach football at Notre Dame (too much?)
OS: No, no. I will knock you out, tie you up, cover you in nickels, and throw you into the stands at a South Carolina game.
Holly: I will knock you out, tie you up, strap a baby in a onesie reading THEY’RE RAISING ME GAY to your chest, and leave you in Neyland.
OS: I will cover you in foodstamps and throw you into a Florida State Alumni meeting.
Holly: I can’t get to one about a Bear Bryant hat. But I’ll keep pondering.
Holly: Ah! I will put you in a houndstooth hat and assless chaps with a t-shirt that says “Bears for Bear.”
OS: I will pay Ed Orgeron to beat you to death with a seventy pound catfish.
Holly: I will tell Jared Lorenzen you’re filled with strawberry parfait. And hand him a very small spoon.
PARFAIT GIMMEH!Holly: I will send Ed Orgeron the EDSBS url and your home address.
OS: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Holly: WOOOOOOO
OS: Doesn’t matter. All he needs is my scent. The rest is endgame.
OS: I will tell Kenny Irons you have a midget in your suitcase.
Holly: I will tell Marques Slocum you’re a spider?
OS: I will change your name legally to Notre Dame, ensuring you die a horrific death in a BCS bowl.
Holly: No–I’ll tell Marques Slocum you’ll feed his pets over the weekend.
OS: NOOOOOO
Holly: Being fucked to death by a lion would be a pretty badass death.
OS: For a few seconds, at least.
OS: I will tell Glenn Dorsey that you said he sucks. It won’t like it when it hears that.
Holly: I’ll tell Luther Campbell you’ve been fixing Miami games.
OS: I will throw you off a freighter in the North Sea and only let one man throw a life preserver to you: Michael Henig.
Holly: we’ve moved from transmogrification to tattling. Christ, will he even hit water?
OS: No. Point.
Holly: Or will he just throw it straight to a shark?
OS: He will throw it and knock over the chum bucket.
Holly: Correct,
OS: Which goes in the water.
OS: Summoning the sharks
Holly: I will change Pete Carroll’s radio presets from smooth jazz to nu-metal and blame you.He will kill you with kindness.
OS: He’s pretty jacked about that nu-metal station
Holly: But he’ll feel bad about it.
OS: I will lock you in a room with Bob Davie and ask him to explain the zone blitz to you.
Holly: I will coerce you into taking the under in the Florida/Troy game, steal your wallet and dump you at the bookie’s.
OS: I will tattoo Lee Corso naked on the inside of your eyelids
Holly: UNCALLED FOR. I will introduce Rex Grossman to your lovely mother.
OS: Well, she is single
Holly: ….who will somehow do such a job on her that you’ll never have been born.[snaps] Retro-time-space-continuum-uterine-obliteration, lawya. Look it up.
OS: He fucked you out of existence, don’t you understand? (Pan to shot of Orson and siblings. He fades in the photo, slowly. He looks at his hands, and can see through it.)
OS: I will put your fading life in the hands of the best cardiac surgeon/Ph.D in Central Florida, Dr. George O’Leary.
Holly: I’ll put your cat’s in the hands of Bill Frist.
OS: I’ll make your life dependent on having an orgasm with a Vanderbilt man.

Holly: I’ll make yours dependent on fucking Sterger. In daylight.
OS: Death. Sweet death.
Holly: I will cut you.
OS: I will kick you in the dick mitten.
Holly: Seriously, I’ll fucking cut you.
Orson Swindle is proprietor and editor of EDSBS.com. Holly may be read at Ladies…and at Snarkastic.com. They really do fucking hate each other this week, and are busy reloading and polishing knives as we speak.












50
I will be rooting for the asteroid.
http://georgiasports.blogspot.com/2005/09/rooting-for-cataclysm-meteor-game.html
Comment by Confused — September 10, 2007 @ 12:25 pm
49
Groovy hate-fuck you all have going on here. It’s like the college football version of “Punch-Drunk Love.”
I’m not taking sides in this one on the field as a rooting interest. I’m pulling for the meteor.
Comment by Signal to Noise — September 10, 2007 @ 12:25 pm
48
I just got kicked out of my law library. Thanks, I needed that.
Comment by Slims — September 10, 2007 @ 12:25 pm
47
What Orson no Al Gore dig??? With the election coming up?? For shame lolol
I will tie you up in a chair and tell Al Gore research doesn’t prove Global Warming Exists. Then I will tell Al Gore you are really a cheeseburger in witness protection ….
Comment by SupremeMinisterChow — September 10, 2007 @ 12:19 pm
46
Orson,
I’ll invent a device that makes people say whatever I want. Then, I’ll cut your neck open, insert the device with the only two words available to you being “Ron” and “Zook”.
Comment by CFB Authority — September 10, 2007 @ 12:01 pm
45
I’d make you be Lou Holtz’s spit shield for a day.
Comment by bhors — September 10, 2007 @ 11:56 am
44
Mmmm, Golden Corral…was wondering what to do for lunch.
A+ on the hate kids. As I sip my soda I spit all over the screen, Silky Johnston says he don’t even know you and he hates your guts. He hopes all the bad things in life happen to you and nobody else. And if you’ll excuse him, he has to go home and put water in your mamma’s dish.
Comment by LSUJoshua — September 10, 2007 @ 11:53 am
43
#37: I have seen pictures of Holly, and she is adorable. Definintely not the stereotypical female Vol fan.
Regarding Vol fans, though, Orson and I attended the 2002 game at Neyland where it rained and Rex Grossman dismantled the Vols, and all the fans we met save one drunk were nothing but polite and pleasant. Really, I was shocked (!) at how classy they were.
Though I do still clearly remeber watching a Vol fan at a UF home game piss all over a couple of Gator fans’ cars, so in my mind it’s a wash.
Comment by The Conscience of a Nation — September 10, 2007 @ 11:48 am
42
….what can I say. We don’t love them hos.
Comment by VandyJ — September 10, 2007 @ 11:43 am
41
#38
only the tastiest and classiest steak/seafood/pizza/soup/salad/sandwich/grill/buffett restaurant you’ll ever see. c’mon down brother.
Comment by gerry dorsey — September 10, 2007 @ 11:41 am
40
…the implied ultimate threat is that we’ll have TCOAN look at her sternly. This is enough to kill most women. Plus she carries a broadaxe only other women can see.
He speaks truth. It’s called a broadaxe because it’s for chopping broads.
Comment by Holly — September 10, 2007 @ 11:41 am
39
You’re beautiful, both of you. Now do this again soon.
Comment by The Great Barstoolio — September 10, 2007 @ 11:36 am
38
All very funny, but what’s a Golden Corral?
Comment by DC Trojan — September 10, 2007 @ 11:32 am
37
Only because I may meet Holly one day, and she may turn out to not be an out-of-date Spam eating, mouth breathing, half-wit beefalope typical Vol fan, I shall invoke the unbiased poetry of Tool’s “Swamp Song”:
My warning meant nothing.
You’re dancing in quicksand.
Why don’t you watch where you’re wandering?
Why don’t you watch where you’re stumbling?
You’re wading knee deep and going in.
And you may never come back again.
This bog is thick and easy to get lost in
Cause you’re a stupid, beligerant fucker.
This bog is thick and easy to get lost in
Cause you’re a dumb ass, beligerant fucker.
I hope it sucks you down.
Wander in and wandering.
Noone even invited you in.
But still you stumble in stumbling.
So suffocate
or get out while you can.
Oh yes, Noone told you to come.
I hope it sucks you down.
See ya in Gainesville! Long drive! Lotsa gas money!!
Comment by Allahver Fist — September 10, 2007 @ 11:31 am
36
I know we both wear orange, but UT orange is gay
Comment by Jmuthaf'nT — September 10, 2007 @ 11:24 am
35
“The Orgeron goes “noodlin†for anaconda and alligator. Catfish are no problem.”
In that case I suggest that the beat down should make use of an anaconda in the left hand and a python in the right.
The Orgeron is what Freddy and Jason see in their nightmares.
Comment by Anonymous IV — September 10, 2007 @ 11:23 am
34
PDX, I think both homonyms would work in this usage.
Comment by AllWhoYonder — September 10, 2007 @ 11:22 am
33
Doh.
Strike that. Journalism was in Weimer Hall, wasn’t it?
The one with all the hottest, dumbest girls.
Sorry. My bad.
Comment by PDXGoneGator — September 10, 2007 @ 11:22 am
32
May you both live in interesting times
Comment by R.D. Baker - Retired Blogger — September 10, 2007 @ 11:17 am
31
Hilarious stuff from both of you, but Orson, please… don’t be representin’ the UF alumni/fans/beloved toothless masses as a writer and confuse “right” and “rite” in the first line of copy. I know they learnt ya to write gooder than that in Turlington and Grinter Halls.
Go Gators.
Out.
Comment by PDXGoneGator — September 10, 2007 @ 11:16 am
30
The Orgeron goes “noodlin” for anaconda and alligator. Catfish are no problem.
Comment by TIGERinATL — September 10, 2007 @ 11:11 am
29
I wonder if the Orgeron has ever gone “noodlin’” in the classic sense or if he just uses explosives as he relaxes on a lawn chair drinking beer?
Comment by Anonymous IV — September 10, 2007 @ 11:08 am
28
Is it wrong that this got me more jacked up for Saturday?
Comment by mlmintampa — September 10, 2007 @ 11:05 am
27
“I will throw you off a freighter in the North Sea and only let one man throw a life preserver to you: Michael Henig. ”
Wasn’t that the finale of “Deadliest Catch”?
Comment by Hook'em Tide — September 10, 2007 @ 11:03 am
26
Yes, the orgeron/catfish death may be worth enduring for comedic value alone.
…but only if said said death was administered by a dripping wet Orgeron immediately after pulling the catfish from a lake with the his bare hands.
Comment by TIGERinATL — September 10, 2007 @ 11:03 am