JOE TILLER: MUSTACHE OF THE DAY
Joe Tiller, sex god.Joe Tiller, you’ve stolen our heart and we just can’t shake you.
Don’t get me wrong: we’re straight, and haven’t slept with a man ever. Or in years. Whatever. College doesn’t count, right? Or Boy Scouts? Or Boy Scouts seen while in college? Those really don’t count.
We thought that was behind us…but then we saw that mustache again today for the first time.
That ’stache is almost as irresistible as your 5-0 record, Joe: fluffy as a freshly baked biscuit, yet bristly like a copper scrubbing pad. We bet it tickles when it brushes the skin, but in that “oh-tease-me” way, not in that “OH FUCK! A SPIDER! AAAHHHH DIE SPIDER DIE!!!” way. And jaunty it is, much like your “basketball on grass” offense that’s had the Big Ten periodically flummoxed for a decade. We bet you look like quite the rapscallion walking in, shirtless and rubbing your ample, sensuous belly with canola oil waiting for some post-game lovin’.
Oh, you’re a nasty, nasty hobo of a man with that mustache, Joe Tiller.
We won’t even talk about 2005. Or Ohio State this weekend. Or how you’ll probably do what Purdue always does to us: sucker us in early with glossy numbers before breaking our hearts and turning out to be just another 8-4 team bound for the Continental Tire Bowl.
That’s not now, Joe. We’re talking about now, and 5-0, and talking about…love. And we know you’re a lover–Orton told us you were, and we know he’s not just saying that because he’s drunk. (Oh, and he is, make no mistake, horrendously, vomitously drunk somewhere right now.)
We know you’ll break our hearts in the end, but then again…isn’t that what life does, too?
You’re still a mighty captain to us. Surely you’ll understand what happens in West Lafayette stays in West Lafayette. Call us. We’ll be waiting with the canola oil, Joe.
And whatever you do, don’t trim the mustache, baby. It’s like a heating coil for the sex machine that is Joe Tiller, and don’t ever, ever let anyone tell you otherwise. You can feel its midwestern heat through this computer screen if you try hard enough.












29
#11:
Tiller once made reference to a Pickle Tickle in a post-game news conference. Has Sweater Vest ever done that?
Game, set, match.
Comment by boilerpete — October 3, 2007 @ 6:13 pm
28
I’d like to talk to you today about Colonial Insurance.
Comment by Out of Conference — October 3, 2007 @ 4:33 pm
27
“Check your blood sugar. Check it often. There’s just no reason not to.”
Comment by Senor Pez — October 3, 2007 @ 4:10 pm
26
“Quaker Oatmeal… It’s the right thing to do, and a tasty way to do it.”
Comment by Papa Lou BSU — October 3, 2007 @ 3:15 pm
25
Holly you just put a tingle in my spine like I am the only defensive person on the field and Tim Tebow sees me in the way of his beloved touchdown.
Comment by Futbawl Fan — October 3, 2007 @ 3:14 pm
24
“Happy Mustache Wednesday, motherfuckers” takes on a whole new meaning when the mustache in question already has.
Fucked your mothers.
All of them.
Comment by Holly — October 3, 2007 @ 3:03 pm
23
As a public service, I’ve provided the following correction to the article:
Or how you’ll probably do what Purdue always does to us: sucker us in early with glossy numbers before breaking our hearts and turning out to be just another 8-4 team bound for ***LOSING IN THE*** Continental Tire Bowl.
Comment by Senor Pez — October 3, 2007 @ 3:02 pm
22
Now, we finally learn the truth. That birthmark on Brees’ face is not a birthmark.
It’s a permanent burn from when Canola Oil first met the heat of the Tillerstache. Now, they just keep it at belly level.
Comment by Eric — October 3, 2007 @ 2:52 pm
21
He looks like he just landed his Cessna 152 down by the marina at Peter O. Knight.
Comment by panhandler — October 3, 2007 @ 2:51 pm