Today prepare to have your mind blown. Phil Steele will be on with us at 8:30 EST on EDSBS Live. If you only listen to one show this entire year, make it this one. Phil Steele was, is, and will remain our last and best hope against Skynet.

PHIL! STEELE!

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His mind will suck the paint off your house and give your whole family a permanent orange afro: Phil Steele.

Florida State offensive lineman Evan Bellamy will miss the entire 2008 season with a blood clot in his leg. This takes ten starts off the line’s overall experience tally, thins out an already scanty Seminole line decimated by suspensions for the first three games of the season, and confirms that having a blood clot–medical terminology here–”sucks.”

The bone lives, per SMQ, so we’ll assume it’s true. Modified wishbones, flexbones, and triple-options backfields disguised under new formations? It’s 1992 all over again! Home Alone 2! It’s nuts!

The Paul Johnson experiment remains a bold one, and one that if successful, will undoubtedbly be copied relentlessly in one adulterated form or another, because if the NFL is the league of imitation, college football is the midgets/giants scenario where one genius thinks of something and fifty other schools half-assedly adopt it as part of their bouillabaise offense.

We took out the same ad, but instead of “kiss” we used “kill with our mind.” Don’t make it easy for Georgia fans, Techies. Just don’t. However, this may replace the one joke they can remember about each fanbase, meaning a refreshing change from the usual ARP! ARP! ARP! tickle party jokes. JORTS! ARP!

His expectations are a bit low, we think.


McCarty said he hoped the ad will turn the tide and change the fact that he’s never had a girlfriend.

“I guess I’ve been on the computer too much playing video games and not going out and meeting people as much as I’d like to,” said McCarty.

Now, McCarty spends his college days studying finance and hopefully McCarty will get his happy ending.

Oh, sneaking a happy ending joke in there–Fox never fails! A hand job is a modest goal indeed, especially for any college environment, where the low self-esteem, sleep deprivation, and surging hormones insure that even English majors get the occasional night of futon-breaking passion. To be fair, though, a stiff breeze breaks most futons, so save the braggadocio for the time you and your girlfriend forced a fault line to shift or something else of that scale. (HT: Paul and Kyle.)

We’ll take the test this morning, and in short, we are frightened if SMQ only got a fifty-five. On the heels of discovering we couldn’t run under six seconds in the forty, June and July are truly becoming the months of enforced humility. (Dodd? 46; Oops Pow? 55. Blogfrica, what!)