Everyday Should Be Saturday

November 28, 2007

MUSTACHE OF THE DAY: FLOYD PEPPER

You may know him better as just plain Floyd, or by his full name: Sgt. Floyd Pepper. Either way, Floyd carried his skull spoiler proudly, flopping it side to side with aplomb through classics like “Can You Picture That” and “The Happiness Hotel” while talking in a manner that even at a very innocent age you likely recognized as being someone bombed off of several pounds of really choice weed.

Our Mustache of the Day: Floyd Pepper


Happy Mustache Wednesday, motherfuckers!

GUEST COLUMNIST: LOKI, GOD OF MISCHIEF

Our guest columnist is the Norse god of mischief, Loki.

Ohhhh, mortals you can doubt my frosty fingers’ existence, but their footprints are as clear as the melody from a Roxette power ballad: this season has been among my many masterpieces, along with the Ikea chair that looks comfortable but secretly wrenches your lazy fat American back into knots that your pathetically overpriced health care system cannot heal. Excuse me while I break my arm just to have it fixed for free by this beautiful, well-trained doctor with huge tits.

(KERRRRAAAAAAKKKK!!!) OWWWW!!! It stings like fine vodka going down my divine throat! Fix it now, Frieda, and then suck my love in the sauna in front of everyone while we discuss the darkness of this eternal winter and our only comfort against its terror: friendship. And the group sex! WAHAHHHAAAAA!!!! See who is playing doctor now, lady physician person!

Very good, Frieda. Now behold my finest work yet this season:Al Groh, ACC coach of the year. Oh, you dismiss him as being boring like the stereotypical square-headed Swede, going through his days like a mortician on the antidepressants and eating his herring dutifully before going home to have sex of the normal sort with the wife. You forget that from time to time, to feel better, we burn down the house and run into the north woods, forsaking all we know for a moment of lunacy followed by frostbite of the genitals and starvation-induced hallucinations!

No hallucination is that which you see, friend! Al Groh is coach of the year because Loki, in all his mischievousness, flicked extra points and field goals in, blew with his mighty Scandinavian lungs in the field goals which go errant, and gave the Cavaliers of Virginia victories with opponents’ fumbles knocked loose with his wild and wonderful god-rod. Groh went 12-12 the prior two seasons, but mischief never sleeps–though when he does, he does it with three women who all understand that love is fleeting, but lust ere returns like the wicked frost sprites of Hjalsburg.

(He also usually shares his love in the Stockholm Seesaw position of which Loki is fond of with one woman charged with bringing refreshments and coordinating lovemusic for our enjoyment while we contract groin muscles in a glorious Viking way on immaculate sheets in well-arranged apartments in clean, safe streets. HAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Except for the filthy Turks who clean Loki’s apartment. Loki cannot grok multiculturalism. Umm…HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!)

So Loki strikes again! As he will when Virginia goes back to 6-6 next year, for Loki is bored and must move on to the West Coast, where he will begin tying California ladies in sex knots while lending his assistance to Karl Dorrell, who Loki will protect with a win against USC and bowl victory before entertaining ladies at the Viper Room with a guitar who strings are made from Dennis Dixon’s anterior cruciate ligament. My pop songs are infectious and irresistable to all the peoples of the world! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

Frieda, more suction! And herring! HHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

FARK OF THE COVENANT: THE BATTLE OF ALL BATTLES

Occasionally, a thread emerges from a message board of such magnificent stupidity and silliness that it must be pulled from the otherwise drab fabric surrounding it. A skein of gold, if you will, woven into the dull burlap of our existence.

We must perform such an extraction on the Fark War going on at the Fark Factory at Tennessee, where LSUFreek is napalming away at Vols fans with devastating accuracy and creativity. We sample one below; the rest are over at their house.

Someday, in a truly awesome world, masters’ students will be writing theses on these.


Flattering to both of them, we think.

MICKEY ANDREWS CONSIDERING RETIREMENT?

Good stories need good villains, like Dr. No, Keyzer Soze, or Andy Garcia in When a Man Loves a Woman. (Let the woman drink, dammit!) For Florida fans and ACC foes, the sunflower-seed chomping clipboard frog-god and defensive mafioso who sent garnet-and-gold hitmen to kill quarterbacks at a startling clip through FSU’s glory years of the ’90s played this role to the hilt: Mickey Andrews, who still calls the defense for the ‘Noles and who may be retiring following this year, per FSU Sports Commentary.

Despite his substantial villain cred, we’re not sad to hear Andrews might be retiring. We’re can’t be sentimental, especially about a defensive coordinator whose defenses persistently added dirty play, late hits, and deliberate attempts to injure to their repertoire of solid schemes and eye-popping talent. Ten years ago, we’d have been the first to happily throw his box of office mementos and personal belongings to the curb: quarterbacks simply died against Noles defenses.

But we’d like to go ahead and come right out and say that he’s grown on us as a Gator fan. No, really. We’ll take him there as long as he wants to stay, just because he’s such an old-school, classic sort of figure. Really! No ulterior motives here. He’s superb.


KeepMickeyAndrews.com! Dibs!

CURIOUS INDEX, 11/28/07

Les to worry about for Michigan (abominable puns being his chief gift to college football copy writers) as with Kirk Ferentz out, the job searchlight focuses directly on the beaming white skittle of Les Miles’ hat. Miles is still mumming about the question and instead pawning the press off with stories of his daughter, who evidently takes no shit from dad when it comes to losses.

After the shattering defeat, Miles said no less an authority than his youngest daughter, Macy Grace, told him, “Dad, I’m mad at you because you lost.” Miles said he tried to reason with the tot, letting her know he “was still the same Dad,” and trying to make her understand blood is thicker than scoreboards.

In addition to Miles occasional mismanagement of the clock, this should concern Michigan fans even more. Scoreboards are made of steel, metal, and diodes, all clearly thicker than weak, watery blood!

This leaves the only other serious contenders for the Michigan job–after two interviews with assistants Mike Debord and Ron English–as Brian Kelly and, in the random possible stack…Jeff Tedford? That’s just something pulled straight from the crazy idea box, but it’s out there. Michigan would have no problem with stadiums built on a faultlines or hippies in the trees, since Ted Nugent is legally allowed to shoot on sight anyone he chooses in the state and have them prepped and ready for the grill in 15 minutes. Tastes like patchouli and lentils, brother!

Rice’s band continued the tradition of private school excellence in band snark by staging an entire halftime show around the treachery of Tulsa coach Todd Graham’s departure from Baylor for his current job, following a fictional search for Graham through the circles of hell and passing Dennis Franchione along the way. Really, the entire thing validated itself with the unnecessary and superb jab at Franchione; however, it rocketed into new territory with its ending.

You know, that reminds me of a joke: A priest, a nun, and a rabbi walk into a bar. Now, I forgot how the rest of it went, but I think in the end Todd Graham is a douchebag.

Tulsa reacted as we big, burly, super-tough Americans do: they filed a complaint. FUCK YEAH!

Randy Shannon is reinstating the Miami standard by revoking the salaries allegedly cutting six players’ scholarships from the team, including that of scatter-armed qb Kirby Freeman. Miami Sports Blog thinks it has something to do with a pulse of gifted Miami Northwestern recruits coming in for early enrollment. We think it has something to do with Miami sucking hard and often for the second half of the season.

This week’s to-do list is up at the Sporting News.

TRADITION! Please give Joel the hits he so richly deserves by checking his full explanation of how the Vols managed to wobble their way into the title game, but we’ll go ahead and with his permission bite the Youtube he put together of Tennessee’s Fiddler on the Roof act to get them there. Phil Fulmer dancing with a mule is involved.


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