EDSBS » 2008 » March

March 28, 2008

FRIDAY CHEESECAKE: PERUVIAN EDITION

Sure, Mississippi State football players are shooting each other…

Defensive tackle Quinton Wesley, 21, a junior from Atlanta, was arrested and charged with aggravated assault after he allegedly shot a gun at a car.

Starting left guard Mike Brown, 21, a senior from Atlanta, was arrested and charged with possession of a weapon, allegedly a .38-caliber Cobra pistol, on school property.

and thus earning seven points in the Fulmer Cup: three for each felony there, and one style point for the creative method of instant messaging chosen by Quinton Wesley. Both, by the way, have been not suspended, or put on some temporary probation, or some other variety of bullshit deferment: they’re GONE, as in banished from Starkville completely. (No jokes about doing them a favor in the process, or how if you lived in Starkville, you’d go shooting random shit, too.)

Horses are hating on dogs, too, and you’re not doing a thing about it.

Everywhere, dude. Haters are everywhere.

The point is: there’s cheesecake to be handled here, and served before it gets warm. First, Vanessa Jeri, a Peruvian model sent to us by Bundameister First Rank Kleph; and then, for those who don’t even bother with faces, two fine selections from Supertangas, the best website on the planet for people who like looking at women’s behinds–and just that, because that’s pretty much your only choice over there.

As always: SFW, but not S(mart)FW, m’kay?

Enjoy your weekend, and for those hoops-inclined types, check out Thirty-Five Seconds for ongoing tourney coverage. And now, bunda.

(more…)

Filed under: Blog Buddies, Cheesecake, Coaches, the BCS, scandals, arrests, and other eccentri, College football, Southeastern Conference by Orson Swindle

[ 16 Replies ]

REMINDER: FURMAN BISHER IS OLD

You’re not going to like it when I say this…

Furman Bisher is very, very old: 89, in fact, and still writing columns for the AJC. To be very, very honest, we respect his longevity but have never particularly enjoyed his work, making him the Bob Dylan of Atlanta sportswriting: around, allegedly legendary, and never really doing anything for us. Then again, when we were growing up he was already sixty, so admittedly we’ve never seen him close to his fastball.

The rule at the AJC has been, since time immemorial: Cut Bisher and die. This seems an immensely stupid rule for anyone, since if you line up at a typewriter every day you’re bound to make mistakes. (See our corrections, or perhaps this entire blog for examples thereof.) However, it might be time for someone to begin at least proofing what the guy types before entering “RUN” or whatever command publishes on the FORTRAN-rigged website the AJC has:

“Eight springs ago the Mets and Cubs opened the season, not in Cincinnati. Guess where? Tokyo. That Tokyo, the guys who gave us Pearl Harbor. Some people don’t like you to bring that up, trade with Japan is so hot. But I’ve got a long memory. I saw what a few bombs can do to our property.”

Gadzooks: not only does Bisher anachronistically invoke the Rising Sun paranoia of the late eighties (The japanese will own your brain! They’ll own everything!), he…he says that. Rather than fire up the facile righteous indignation wagon, we simply sent a tattered rising sun flag and this note in an envelope to Bisher at the AJC this morning instead.

Deal Westeln Devir,

Ah, Fulman Bishah. YOU DEFAME THE NATION OF JAPAN AND HER EMPERAH! DIE LOUND-EYE! You wirr diee rike the nastee buttah-stink devir you all when the mighty Japanese navy sairs into Atranta and bulns your house down! Fuck your Babe Luth! Divine winds wirr take your soul to herr, lound-eye! My bayonet wirr lun led with your brood, Bishah, for your insorence!

Yours most poritery,

Lieutenant Hideo Takeda
Japanese Army
Zambales Mountains, Philippines.

When Furman Bisher takes the red-eye to Manila later this week with a flint-lock rifle, a canteen, and a map in hand, and you hear laughter emanating from the Atlanta area, that would be us.

Filed under: 404, Not Krunk, Not strictly college football, but funny, media whoring by Orson Swindle

[ 59 Replies ]

CORRECTIONS FOR THE WEEK THAT WAS: 3/28/08

We all make mistakes. In fact, some of us specialize in them. Thus, we present the EDSBS Corrections for the week through 3/28/08.

Mistakes: we make ‘em.

On Tuesday, we mentioned that Bo Pelini’s middle name was “Steven.” This is incorrect: Pelini’s middle name is Wrathhammer. We regret the error.

On Monday, we quoted the number of sacks allowed by Notre Dame last year as 58. This was correct, but left out the other stat lines.

Pressures: 324

Disembowelments: 15

Decapitations: 7

Drawn and Quartered: 9

Thrown off cliff in Iraq by U.S. soldiers: 3

Strapped in chair and forced to watch Ang Lee’s The Hulk: 1

Again, we regret the error.

On Wednesday, we referred to Bobby Bowden as a former lover of Rudolf Nuryev and “one of the most notorious power bottoms in the Castro’s jet-set weekend crew in the 70s” This was based on false information and bad sourcing, and we regret the error.

Also on Wednesday, we implicated Bobby Bowden in the shooting of Tupac Shakur. This, too, was based on bad information. (Thank god we didn’t actually do that…unlike the LA Times actually did to someone.)

On Tuesday, we referred to our consumption of Tylenol Orange Flavored Cough Medicine in Las Vegas. This was a misrepresentation. We were actually smoking moonrock and huffing benzene at the time and chasing it with the Orange Drank. We regret the error.

On Monday, we suggested that Rutgers coach Greg Schiano was lactose-intolerant. This is not accurate. He is just naturally gassy and has a problem processing complex starches. We regret the error.

On Thursday, we reported on the death of Brent Musberger in a Texas hotel room following a squabble with Mexican drug dealers and an unstoppable, shadowy killer fond of coin flips. This did not actually happen, and was instead the plot of the Oscar-winning No Country For Old Men with the words “Brent Musburger” put in place of “Josh Brolin.” Again, we regret the error.

Filed under: Blog Buddies, Salt, and that is tough titties for you, crying like a bitch, media whoring, meet wound, reinhold messner would do it, we regret the error by Orson Swindle

[ 16 Replies ]

TUBERFIELD STRIKES!

From the Auburner comes a story of horror so overblown and provincial, it must be about the Auburn/Alabama rivalry. Overblown and provincial, however, is just our speed, so here you go:

The inclusion of the “Angels With Filthy Souls” line is a nice touch, as is the Golden Flake ad. Right now, Nick Saban is doing dips shirtless in a dark prison cell he calls home while watching this video to prepare for 2008.

Filed under: Alabama man! he can drink he can bowl he can drink some, Blog Buddies, Coaches, the BCS, scandals, arrests, and other eccentri, College football, Southeastern Conference by Orson Swindle

[ 47 Replies ]

CURIOUS INDEX, 3/28/08

Rich Rodriguez claims Michigan “family values” have not declined, asserting that Justin Boren’s claim that Rodriguez has eroded the family atmosphere in Ann Arbor was “”way off base.” He also went further in his defense of family values by asserting his opposition to heliocentrism, his disgust for people being allowed to marry rocks, turtles, or homosexuals, and his fondness for corn syrup, especially when served in the name of a capricious, petty God.

This workout is brutal!

While Boren may have left the team due to declining family values, the Detroit Free Press just went ahead and all but called Boren a pussy who bailed on Rodriguez’s demanding new training regimen, a change from whatever Jazzercise Michigan was doing before. Flashback to Ivan Maisel’s piece on the new cruelty:

“After every workout, we would just come into the locker room and sit like that,” junior wide receiver Greg Mathews said, putting his head in his hands. “I can’t believe we just ran 12 100s and 10 40s and two 120s and we’re still alive. Man, I can’t believe we just did that.”

Now watch how you sew a few quotes together into an accusation of complete sad pussydom:

But Boren told much of the story 10 days earlier, following the team’s first spring practice. He cited then the change in the offense and the grueling nature of the first workout.

He also mentioned the difficulty the offensive linemen had constantly running back to the line of scrimmage in the no-huddle offense.

The only thing missing would be a key editorial decision to place an ad for tampon coupons right next to Boren’s head. Fine work, Freepers! Weakling or not, Boren is still very large, meaning he’s looking to transfer to another D-1 school including–gasp!–Terrelle Pryor’s choice, The University of Ohio State.

Stanford bows to no man. In between enraging Pete Carroll and enraging alums of Michigan by accusing them of academic laxity, Jim Harbaugh coaches Stanford. SMQ says they’re better than you might think, meaning he thinks they’re capable of being solidly middle-of-the-road. We agree–they’re Vegas’ best friend next year in the Pac-10, because they’ll sideswipe someone who shouldn’t lose to them. Not that this happened this year or anything, right?

43 pounds? Has Notre Dame’s Sam Young gained 43 pounds, as his stats claim, in a single offseason?

Let’s suspend disbelief and buy a 43-pound weight gain by right tackle Sam Young in approximately four months, a feat accomplished, Weis said, without the benefit of any additional body fat. A triumph attained, indeed, “just by adding lean muscle.”

Adding lean muscle…by stapling it to his quads? What the blind hell are they feeding him?

Your Friday Song of Crushing Glass And Metal Wreckage Falling From Great Heights. As you all know, we here at EDSBS love songs that sound like bombers obliterating cities, giant monsters snapping skyscrapers in two with their powerful cold hands, or herds of Cape Buffalo rolling unimpeded over fields of ~~Tiffany~~ Faberge eggs. Your song of Crushing Glass and Metal Wreckage Falling From Great Heights for the day: Helmet’s “Unsung,” ending with a relentless string of eighth notes that sounds like something burning up in orbit.