Orson, 8:45 p.m. 100 COCKTAILS TO YOU if you’ve made it this far! It’s the cocktail shift, where nightowls, antacids, and desperate bids for physical affection take hold. If all three fail, you’ve still got Pac-10 football and Mountain West games to look forward to, the Adult Swim of gridiron offerings.

Hail, hail, says Mr. O’Toole, to you, guest bloggers Oops Pow and Jebus! Fine work and a loss by Iowa State to Toledo surely await you as a reward.

Now on to the anchor leg, and vodka tonic to the finish.

Jebus, 8:56 p.m. This Iowa offense isn’t just bad - it’s not even from the past. It’s like the players are from another sport. It’s as though they don’t understand how to even play football. It’s like when they made Smokin’ Joe Frazier swim in the Superstars competition. It’s just… This is my last transmission.

OPS, 9:00 p.m. The first quarter of the Iowa game is in the books, and the story is pretty simple: Neither team can do anything on offense. Iowa’s receivers, like Jebus, are all dead, and Wisconsin’s QB has been beaten into submission. How many times has a game been 0-0 after two overtimes?

Jebus, 9:23 p.m. I wonder what goes on in the Iowa offensive meetings? They’re clearly not drawing up plays. Are they playing bingo?

Jebus, 9:27 p.m. Injury Report: Al Toon just suffered his 91st concussion when they put the headset on him for his “interview”. He is not expected to return. Sad.

OPS, 9:35 p.m. The Elias Sports Bureau has been put on notice that the record for most punts is certainly going down tonight. There have been 14 in 26 minutes of play thus far.

OPS, 9:52 p.m. It’s clear: if you really want to fuck up a compromise, have referees take care of it.

Jebus, 10:02 p.m. What the fuck are you talking about?

OPS, 10:02 p.m. After a Wisconsin TD, Iowa drives the length of the field(!) and scores (!!) a touchdown(!!!!) with four seconds to go (!!!!!!) on a one-handed catch by Run-DJK (!!!!!timesinfinity). 10-7 Iowa at the half. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go streaking.

Orson, 10:10 p.m. Georgia looking most muscular against Alabama. BTW, every time they pan to the stands, the camera catches at least two or three women between the ages of 18-24 so heartbreakingly beautiful you can see it beneath layers of body paint. That is a particularly striking and ephemeral brand of beauty, there.

OPS, 10:21 p.m. Cutting to the Purdue-Minnesota game, it appears that even the Minnesota cheerleaders are utterly bereft of that striking and ephemeral beauty, O-Dawg. Purdue leads 24-3, but owing to the inept nature of both the Purdue D and the Big Ten as a whole, we can’t actually consider the Goofers out of this game.

Orson, 10:25. The SEC is a warre of alle againste alle this year. LSU, for all the yardage, didn’t euthanize the Cocks the way they theoretically could have. Florida let Ole Miss take them to the wire after discovering that they still have no secondary. Kentucky looks as composed and imbued with victory-aura as anyone. Completely focacta, the whole league.

And Matthew Stafford will be a fat, bald 40 year old man. One with a tired, tired penis, yes; but most definitely a fat, bald 40 year old.

OPS, 10:35 p.m. This is going to shock you, but the Hawkeyes just punted again.

OPS, 10:45 p.m. My sympathy for anyone who thought Stanford might cover against Oregon. It’s already 21-3 in the first quarter, and they’re making it look really easy.

OPS, 10:58 p.m. Just pointing out that Iowa is leading at a top 10 team (even one that clearly does not deserve it) going into the fourth quarter. My clothes are having a lot of trouble staying on. It’s like I’m on E.

Orson, 11:04 p.m. Christ, Alabama ties this up and ensures yet another goddamn Daniel Moore Painting called “The Scramble” will eke its watercolory way into the world. JPW and his lovely locks on a scramble for the tying TD.

Orson, 11:10 p.m. Tripp Chandler finally fucking catches a ball for UGA after four drops. You and your stupidly spelled name are killing UGA and their magnificent fat cuddly bastard of a qb.

Orson, 11:15 p.m. Coutu misses. Bear Bryant, translucent, gives the buddy Jesus thumbs up to the stands at Bryant-Denny. Everyone wearing Bama gear at BDS can actually see this with their naked eyes.

OPS, 11:18 p.m. Hey, remember what I said about Oregon covering? It’s 21-17 now. The Snodfarts have taken advantage of two Oregon turnovers to get back in the game. Meanwhile, Iowa hits a field goal to make it 14-13 with less than seven minutes to go. Give me something to fight and I will fight it. Bareknuckled. Iowa must win this game. They must!

Orson, 11:23 p.m. Is Mike Patrick actually bringing Britney Spear into this OMG STAFFORD TO HENDERSON HOLY SHIT GEORGIA STABS THEM IN THE FACE WITH A HOBNAILED…UM…KNIFE?

OPS, 11:30 p.m. Iowa gets the ball back with two minutes to go, down 17-13. So you’re telling me there’s still a chance!

Jebus, 11:34 p.m. These commercials are soothing as shit. Thanks, ABC!

Jebus, 11:37 p.m. Lock up your kids, Madison! Musberger’s on the loose in …3 …2 ….

OPS, 11:41 p.m. Huh. So this is what a gun tastes like.

OPS, 11:45 p.m. I still haven’t decided if I would take the young lady from the Hardee’s biscuit commercial to bed. I’m still in the “with copious amounts of alcohol” camp; your thoughts, gents?

Jebus, 11:50 p.m. How many biscuits does she have? I’m hungry as shit. (scratches belly, wanders down to balls, shuffles away)

Orson, 11:51 p.m. Rammer Jammer Yellow Hammer, give your cake to Matthew Stafford! Much thanks to Jebus and OPS for playing today–please peruse their site, Black Heart, Gold Pants, where they will eulogize the death of the Kirk Ferentz hypeball machine before threatening exotic forms of suicide.

We’re off to dream of the US Women’s Soccer Team piling onto us in celebratory glee. Goonight.

The boys from Black Heart, Gold Pants join us on the liveblog as Florida attempts to hang on at Ole Miss. Happy thoughts!

Orson, 3:34 p.m. This game is going to kill me. Prepare the pyre.

Jebus, 3:36 p.m. In another part of the world, Bonnie Bernstein is at the Michigan game, lisping, gesturing wildly, and she needs conditioner… I guess that’s not news at all.

OPS, 3:38 p.m. Holy shit, James Joe “Animal” Laurinaitis is screaming about the Ohio State offense at me. It’s pretty safe to assume that he’s always wearing face paint and using his wrestler voice, right?

Jebus, 3:49 p.m. Howdya like to get a look at Coach O’s EKG right about now? How would you like to be the guy who was supposed to listen to his instructions and try to translate them to the team?

Orson, 3:54 The shame is complete. Louisville falls to Syracuse.

Jebus, 4:06 That reverse by South Carolina was like a violent slow speed chase. I know it didn’t gain any yardage but it was beautiful.

Orson, 4:10 The fake punt by Ole Miss was bad surgery: bloody, simple, and ultimately fatal.

Jebus, 4:12 Ryan Mallett runs like a young John Navarre, with snowshoes.

Orson, 4:18 p.m. Some middle schooler on crack just scored for LSU.

Orson, 4:28 p.m. Gary Danielson has, freed from the yoke of being Brent Musberger’s truss, ascended to Parnassus as an analyst. And awww, adorable shots of Mike VI, who thinks about killing all day–but looks so cute when he does it!

Touchdown, Michigan State. MAKE PLAYS!!!

Jebus, 4:39 pm Verne Lundquist has a twinkle in his eye and a boner in his pants for the first time in 84 years. It’s all because of Holly’s rack. He’s still aroused.

Orson, 4:44 p.m. Oklahoma State, in addition to the gold plated urinals in the locker room, are wearing cool hats right now, little orange beanies water is piped through to keep them cool. They look like members of a uniformed cult based on heavy corn syrup consumption and athletic tape. 21-14, OSU now.

Orson, 4:55 p.m. LSU has 34 tailbacks on their roster. All of them are awesome beyond verbiage. Miles can’t even care who goes in from play to play; he just covers his eyes and points.

OPS, 5:02 p.m. Michigan is now driving late in the half, after their attempt to run out the clock was met with boos. Ah, democracy.

Orson, 5:09 p.m. LSU runs a wacky fake FG for a TD, and it surprises everyone in the stadium, including Les Miles, apparently, who looked like he was thinking of paste, or puppies, or maybe Mobile Suit Gundam Wing or something. His eminence front is extremely poorly maintained.

Going for a walk to air out the brain. Watch the TT/OSU game for fun in the meantime. It’s 345-278 in the second.

OPS, 5:20 p.m. John Saunders just pointed out that had Ball State not missed an extra point, the game may have gone into overtime. Now I’m no scienceologist, but if Nebraska had been down 41-35 when they scored their last touchdown, I think they might have just kicked an extra point.

Jebus, 5:23 p.m. Fact: Before the game, Mike Leach told Mike Gundy to pick a number between 50-100. Gundy foolishly picked 77.

Jebus, 5:34 p.m. At the half, TT-OSU have combined for 767 yards, 9 TD’s, 1 punt, and no tackles. YARRRRRR!!!!!!!

OPS, 5:49 p.m. This is bullshit. Why do we have to make our timestamps in EDT? Orson’s not even here right now.

OPS, 4:50 p.m. Much better. By the way, Austin Scott just coughed the ball up deep in Michigan territory. I’ll be shocked if the Fuck Nittany Lions get into the end zone today.

Jebus, 5:53 p.m. While we’re lodging complaints, I was told there’d be blow and hookers here at the EDSBS bunker. There isn’t even indoor plumbing. Could I at least get some M&M’s (no dark chocolate)?

OPS, 5:08 p.m. No kidding. I’d settle for a bedpan and a stale pack of Mambas.

Jebus, 6:22 p.m. Herr Lundquist is so aroused that he just got a little too grabby with Danielson. He was like drunk uncle Lou who hugs a little too tight after a few cocktails at Christmas. Danielson needs a grown-up.

OPS, 5:35 p.m. The NBC cameras just spent 15 seconds focused in on Chuck Weis lecturing Clausen, as the Emu listened intently. There was no way to tell what Weis was talking about, of course, but we can safely presume that he was reciting the menu from Barney’s Beanery.

Jebus, 6:38 p.m. “Mike Hart is bending over at the waist.” — Brad Nessler

OPS, 5:50 p.m. Michigan holds on 4th and 10 with about a minute to go (it’s easy to cover receivers if they’re stationary), and the final is 14-9. Meanwhile, we’re one hour away from the Iowa game. Pardon my erection.

Jebus, 6:55 p.m. Every time Javon Ringer runs by, Charlie Weis thinks, “au jus… he’d be good with some au jus…”

Jebus, 7:02 p.m. Verne just busted his load on that onside kick thinking South Carolina got it. Methinks old school has money on tOBC to cover. The line was 16.5 Verne, you’re good, brother.

Orson, 7:18 p.m. Bob Davie was dabbing at Black Announcer Whose Name We Can’t Recall Mark Something’s forehead as he ate barbecue offered up by an Arkansas tailgater. His tender tabbing was more intimate in its touch than most marriages we’ve seen, actually. A sensualist, that Davie.

OPS, 7:45 p.m. Why isn’t the Baylor-Buffalo game on national TV?! This is an outrage!

OPS, 8:18 p.m. One minute and two plays from scrimmage into the game, and Iowa is already digging into the timeouts. And coming out of the timeout… they give up a sack! Great game planning, guys. Wisconsin might as well give up now!

Jebus, 8:20 p.m. Introducing Wisconsin? The ROCK! Introducing Iowa? Kirk Ferentz. Are you fucking kidding me? We couldn’t get Kutcher? I hate you Disney.

OPS, 8:31 p.m. Oh good, the Rock announces Iowa’s defense too, and has this to say about Mike Klinkenborg: “Don’t make fun of him; he will hurt you.” Well, shit. Now all these name jokes will have to go to waste. Trust me, they were golden.

OPS, 8:46 p.m. Okay, just one. More like Klinken-BUTT! Meanwhile, the Hawkeyes’ last experienced receiver has gone down to injury, which means the two wideouts will be a true freshman and Hayley LaFontaine. I need a hug.

Orson, 9:30 a.m. Yawn! (scratches balls.) Ah, this is the early shift liveblog, covering the games till around mid-afternoon. Morning, Sam; morning, Ralph.

Orson, 10:21 a.m. Bama Gameday is liiiiiiiiive. Much thanks to the redneckass Georgia fans who strapped the old Georgia flag–the one where 3/4 of the thing is the Confederate flag–to a pole and are flying it in the background for the whole nation to see. Eh, Cletus, pass the glug!

Orson, 10:38 a.m. Two nice moments already:

Fowler: Any opinions on Brown vs. Harvard? Herbstreit: …And the best sign thus far: “AUBURN PLAYERS CAN’T READ THIS SIGN.”And why Desmond Howard can’t be throwing cash down on the table and attempting to make money off Andre Woodson in this pool game is another reason why the NCAA is an evil despot of an organization. Tyranny has a thousand faces, kids.

Orson, 10:59 a.m. Herbstreit admitting that he hasn’t seen minute one of Air Force only swells our general like for him–he seems almost proud of it, and refuses to make a call with a shit-eating grin on his face.

The Brandon Cox for Heisman signs are killing us with laughter. Somewhere, Cuddles is blaming all that sand in Cox’s vagina for ruining Auburn’s season.

Orson, 11:09 a.m. Desmond Howard introduces Saban like Black Bush introduces Tony Blair. “If you don’t believe me, just ask my lawya Nick Saban.” Giggling like a little schoolgirl eek!

Orson, 11:15 a.m. Hate many things about Nick Saban, but keep your hater eyes off that suit. It speaks of all that is fine and luxurious in life–it probably smells like Godiva truffles, fine cognac, and yacht polish. Or Luciano Pavarotti’s corpse. Same thing, really.

Orson, 11:25: Of course that unblinking violin-playing bumpin automaton is named “Caleb.” Enoch is soooo 2006.

Orson: 11:45 a.m. …and who did the Rabbitohs lose to in the playoffs? Ohio State’s varsity rugby team, of course.

Orson, 11:59 a.m. Kirk goes Georgia! Lee sings! And picks Alabama, in effect spraying anti-lynchin’ spray all over himself in the process.

The camera just panned past a woman so fit she has the v-cut lower ab muscles thing on display. Charlie Weis–she looks like a playmaker! Scholly in the mail!

Orson, 12:09 p.m. USF finishes their 80 plus yard TD drive with the bone! Well-played, vintage playcall fanboy.

orson, 12:21 p.m. UNC is tackling like they’ve just finished eating particularly greasy slices of pizza. Louisville, however, wears the animal hat carcass chapeau of shame by allowing an offensive td to Syracuse.

Jebus, 12:50 p.m. Getting shouted down by Skip Holtz has to be the most emasculating thing in the world. How do you look yourself in the face after that?

Jebus, 12:53 p.m. OK, phone sex with Pam Ward would be more emasculating than Skip Holtz yelling at you in front of a small regional audience, but still, it would be pretty bad.

OPS, 12:59 p.m. Rece Davis just called today “Hangover Saturday.” It’s like he’s right here next to me.

Orson, 1:09 p.m. PERCY HARVIN IS UNFAIR BUT HE IS OURS SO THERE.

Jebus, 1:10 p.m. I just heard this on the ECU-WFVU broadcast as I was making my sandwich - “An old coach used to tell us to get right up in his mustache!” That’s… great. I’ll go ahead and not eat this sandwich now, thanks!

OPS, 1:21 p.m. Somehow, I’m getting the Temple-BGSU game. In Iowa City. I know what you’re thinking, and your jealousy is entirely justified. As for Temple, their uniforms can best be described as “terrifying.” It’s like they’re wearing stripper pants.

Orson, 1:30 p.m. Syracuse is beating Louisville 21-7. We’re getting a sandwich before the hordes of locusts arrives.

Jebus, 1:30 p.m. Syracuse? Really, Lousiville?

Orson, 1:44 p.m. Tebow drags four defenders into the endzone–TD, Florida. Morgan Freeman does the ads for Ole Miss? Magisterial, Rebels–positively magisterial. Miss. State should have Sam Jackson. Mississippi MOTHERFUCKIN’ STATE!!!

OPS, 1:59 p.m. Say, Jebus, does this sound familiar? “[Syracuse's] non-conference isn’t cupcakey enough to predict a bowl bid, but considering how many of the tough teams come to the Carrier Dome, they could ruin a few Big East title shots.” It’s called prescience, lawya!

Jebus, 2:01 p.m. It’s called bullshit, fool!

Orson, 2:14 p.m. Chan Gailey and Al Groh are fighting like old men throwing down with walkers and oxygen tanks swinging at UVA. Al Groh is winning. For Tech fans, this sentence equals sadness beyond comprehension.

OPS, 2:21 p.m. I think Pam Ward is wearing a full-body sports bra.

OPS, 2:37 p.m. Scrawled on a sign in the Louisville crowd: “nothing that dont kill us will only make us stronger” [sic, sic, sic]. I’m definitely getting that tattooed over my heart.

Orson, 2:39 p.m. Syracuse is beating Louisville. We’re stuffing our head in a bag of freon and ether right now for two minutes. When we come back, 2007 will make sense.

Orson, 2:52 p.m. Florida pulling away ever-so-slowly, but still charitably handing out penalties to Ole Miss. Given the option between shoving a hot mozzarella stick in our eye or watching our team at any SEC road game…we’d still take the road game. Barely.

Orson, 3:07 p.m. One day, if we need to spring a friend from prison, we’ll make the prison hires Kyle Jackson. When our friend is running in open field to freedom, Jackson will pose no threat to him. Jackson goes for a pick and gives Ole Miss six.

OPS, 3:13 p.m. How’s that mozzarella stick looking, Orson?

Orson, 3: fuckity fuck p.m. I’ll take two, please.

Jebus, 3:22 p.m. I’m not wearing any pants.