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.