IT'S AN ALCOHOL-IDAY, FRIENDS
by Orson on Jan 9, 2008 10:31 AM EST
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PrintPosted from Cozumel, Mexico.
It's an alcohol-iday, motherfuckers! WOOOOOOO! Shots on me. Literally. I've poured them all over myself. My speedo's wet! Someone get me a new one or I'm sunning my buckeyes. And you ladies saw that yesterday.
Alcohol-iday! HT: Tressel's World.
The last time I heard people scream like that, I was running through some back alley in Rio with a flamethrower. You know how long a cat can run after you set it totally the fuck on fire? Thirty-eight feet. I know that because I just whipped out the old twatstand and marked it off myself. Took three lengths, but that's an exact measurement.
(Surriously: Jim Delany always travels with a flamethrower. You should have seen him at the Hotel Ipanema that afternoon. He was like Peter the Great on PCP. He scares me sometimes. He thinks Turistas is both a comedy and a documentary. His eyes are the dead eyes of a killer! Great dude.)
Jesus. Two years in a row I gotta come down here and rage just to put the beast to bed.
Fucking Robiskie drops a TD. I thought about that all night last night when I was in the pit. Fighting off three dogs and a guy named Jorge all at once ain't for the amateur, but I didn't get to where I was in life by not being able to lose three pints of blood and still snap a man's neck in one move. Everytime I felt the darkness coming on, I just thought about Robiskie dropping that fucking pass, and suddenly I'm all hopped up on anger-crack again and sinking my teeth into the neck of a Presa Canario while a thousand Mexicans are screaming and throwing money at you.
The sweet moments in life are never enough, man. Never...but that poor, poor man. It's what he gets for stepping in the ring with a poet-warrior like Jimmy T. I mean, I wrote this after I woke up this morning in the can. It just flows from me like money, man.
Their once was a coach named Jimmy
Who into the title game did shimmy
His kids shat the bed
And gave the Tigers cheap head
And now he's in Mexico drinking his liver into a smoking pile of useless ashes and fighting anyone who gets within fifty feet of him because that's just what he wants to do, motherfucker.
I didn't even write that down. But a man shouldn't leave anything behind him when he goes, which is why Jimmy T's dying with zero in the bank account and sliding into a grave surrounded by the sheet of glass he turned his surroundings into. I've got a bargain basement Kazakh warhead in the Tresselbunker just for this purpose. Hook it up to the EKG, and when the cock-engine goes flatline, BOOM! Me and life, tied 1-1, baby.
Julio! Yeah, you! I promise you won't die if you bring me 72 ounces of whatever's in that machine over there? I could watch that shit all day: the little steel wheel going around in the machine. What has two thumbs and can drink you into renal failure? Jimmy T, that's who.
And fuck the fucking AFCA. Like I've got to go there and choke on rubber chicken and hide when I want to slip down to Tiujuana for some real nightlife. You can buy your own penicillin over the counter there--now that's a town that understands the kind of freedom a lone wolf like Jimmy T. needs. aaaaa-ROOOOOOOOO!!! Wolf callin' here, ladies!
Julio! I won't bite. Seriously. You see this cash? Get your ass over here and get me a drink. I know I bit Manuel, but he deserved it and the infection he has will heal. I'm not a fucking Komodo Dragon, man. Okay, only on my mother's side. That's a joke, because you can't really fuck a Komodo Dragon. Believe me, I've tried.
SERIOUSLY JULIO! NOW! THIS GUN ISN'T LAUGHING, NOW IS IT? THAT'S BECAUSE GUNS DON'T LAUGH, AND NEITHER DOES JIMMY T WHEN HE'S CRAVING 72 OUNCES OF SLUSHY MARGARITA HAPPINESS!
Now let's get this Alcohol-iday started, Julio! Greasy watermelon race comin' atcha, Cozumel. And by watermelons, I mean my testicles.
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Forgot to add: who knew Jim Tressell had such a nice ass?
by fresh on Jan 9, 2008 10:44 AM EST reply actions
Are those the current buh buh buh buckeye babes?
by Last Dragon on Jan 9, 2008 10:49 AM EST reply actions
I have no idea what any of that means. I just know that it’s the greatest thing ever written.
by Etch Westgrin on Jan 9, 2008 10:54 AM EST reply actions
i hope you all are kidding about those asses. they’re all hueg and they’re dooing the leg lift in the hopes of having some form of definition in their cheese legs
by Jmuthaf'nT on Jan 9, 2008 10:55 AM EST reply actions
and that bitch needs a haircut. if she keeps the top like that, its gotta be a jungle down south. you know you were thinking it
by Jmuthaf'nT on Jan 9, 2008 10:56 AM EST reply actions
Lemme tell ya, Rio is the place…..when I was in the Navy doing a World Cruise on the USS Enterprise, we stopped there when Guns N Roses rox in Rio ’91…it was teh shit! Big ass beers, hot ass beaches with topless, thonged british chicks and locals, thieves everywhere and hookers, then if you wandered, oh, say 2 blocks too far from the Rio Plaza, you would get robbed, then probaly abducted “Hostel” style…Brahma beer and Re Horse beers, and Brazilian steak…..It was 7 days that made New Orleans debauchery look PG rated…..My money is Tressel is sold into the slave trade
by Mr Pelican Pants on Jan 9, 2008 10:56 AM EST reply actions
British chicks in thongs? You could go blind…
by Boston Frog on Jan 9, 2008 11:07 AM EST reply actions
Dude, I don’t know if it’s my Safari browser or what, but your layout has been all effed up the past couple days — a lot of times I’ll log on and it’ll be nothing but the light-blue background with some text on it, and the top couple of posts on the front page will be cut off, for some reason. And when I click on “more” on this post, all I get is the comments. Which sucks, because I was really hoping to read the rest of Jimmy boy’s travelogue. Please tell me he’s going to run into a clap-ridden Subcommandante Wayne down there at some point.
by Doug on Jan 9, 2008 11:33 AM EST reply actions
Jmuthaf’nT
I am sure all that sweet punani you’re getting in your mama’s basement is like 10 times better than Tressel’s harem.
by Irwin Fletcher on Jan 9, 2008 11:34 AM EST reply actions
Doug, I’ve been getting the same problems since Mr. Swindle left for Bourbon Street and boobies without leaving kibble for his server. Criminal Negligence.
Just keep hitting refresh until it corrects itself.
by Allahver Fist on Jan 9, 2008 11:37 AM EST reply actions
Jmuthaf’nT — they definitely aren’t models, but geez, give em a break.
Also, I’ve noticed some of the same problems with the site that Doug pointed out. Please fix.
by PW on Jan 9, 2008 11:38 AM EST reply actions
There’s a Teenage Fanclub song called “Alcoholiday” that was playing on my iTunes as I read this. Seriously.
And the phrase “anger-crack” will now be part of my vocabulary. Well done.
by Signal to Noise on Jan 9, 2008 11:47 AM EST reply actions
You’ve heard of the ‘Spice Girls’? I am thinking these are the ‘70% Less Sodium Girls’. And yes, the one on the far left is their Geri(sp?-the redhead).
by Mark on Jan 9, 2008 11:50 AM EST reply actions
Tressel doesn’t even know his Homonyms! Ooohh, Jimmy T, tell me, who has “once was a coach named Jimmy?” Did they Possess it? Oh shit, thats wack. Blah Blah Blah SEC is Dumb, Blah Blah Blah, we’re not happy enough being a simple Pronoun so we change our school to the Singular Pronoun of tOsu, Blah Blah Blah. At least now we know the Big Tenleven did just fail their/there/they’re math section of the SAT.
Thanks J.T. for bringing the SEC’s trophy back.
In other news, now what do I do for the rest of the year??
by BIg Ten Academics My Ass on Jan 9, 2008 12:14 PM EST reply actions
Boston Frog @ 12 – the idea of a bunch of red-arsed chavettes in size XXL thongs doesn’t do much to inspire anything other than fright, does it?
by DC Trojan on Jan 9, 2008 12:56 PM EST reply actions
questions abound…..
who has a better ass? tressel?? or the broad on the far right?? who was the “6” and who was the “9” between tressel and light blue bikini?? why does the sista have the smallest ass in the bunch??
its mind bottling.
by gerry dorsey on Jan 9, 2008 1:02 PM EST reply actions
The ‘sista’ looks like ‘brotha’ Tremayne with a wig from the old Jerry Springer show.
I do not know if it is possible to pick a best one out of the bunch, sort of like picking the best team in the Big 10, but the one that I would like to slap the most is the far right one, plus she is giving ME the jump in the sack eyes, not the rest of YOU cotton-pickers.
by Harvey Wireman on Jan 9, 2008 1:09 PM EST reply actions
Tressel’s out of the country?
Too bad: he’s missing the campus mayhem and bonfires at home.
by NRBQ on Jan 9, 2008 1:18 PM EST reply actions
Fourth from the left, second from the right looks a lot like Kirsten Dunst.
by TigerNacho on Jan 9, 2008 1:18 PM EST reply actions
DC, no, it doesn’t. What’s worse is that the red-arsed chavettes would be trailed by their sweaty, fat, balding, apple-red, football-chant-singing, lager-swilling, fight-picking chav boyfriends. Rule Britannia…
by Boston Frog on Jan 9, 2008 1:21 PM EST reply actions
Bill Paxton says that sista has an ass “like a ten year old boy.”
by fresh on Jan 9, 2008 2:10 PM EST reply actions
Orson. loved the Peter the Great on pcp analogy.
Which got me to thinking…..What historical figure would make a great coach?
Can you imagine Rasputin in a sweater vest?
Henry VIII coaching Kansas?
Napoleon at Alabama?
Joan of Arc at WFVU?
by hunglikehussain on Jan 9, 2008 3:08 PM EST reply actions
It’s been photoshopped, you can tell because Tressell would still have the sweater vest on even at the beach.
And I second Doug’s concerns about this site and using Safari.
by fotodog on Jan 9, 2008 5:57 PM EST reply actions
“This gun is not laughing” has to be the funniest line since Jules asked Brett not to say what.
by bevo on Jan 9, 2008 8:33 PM EST reply actions
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