Freek gets a fraction of this title. Just for being awesome and having this pre-loaded for a morning when our brain consists of eight randomly firing neurons and a boxing kangaroo hammering away at the controls:

Sunk. Nobody else had held Oklahoma to fewer than 21 points in a half. Florida held them to 14 for the game, picked Bradford twice, and held on two low percentage goal line percentages. Oh look, it’s our good friend Gregg Doyel, just chillin on the metaphorical couch. What say you, Gregg Doyel?

This game will be sensational, that’s all I know. But the arrogant assumption that Florida’s defense will be the difference makes me giggle.

After it gets its ass kicked by the best offense in college football history.

Prescient stuff, especially after you look at this video of Major Wright TOTALLY GETTING OWNED BY MANUEL JOHNSON.

DOOD. See the way Johnson went throat-first into the top of Major’s helmet? That’s considered a great insult by some Armenians….and by Johnson’s larynx. Remember: helmet to helmet doesn’t count when it is awesome, or when Ron Cherry is calling the game, because Ron Cherry can get raped by a blimp after calling the bag of ass he called last night. LOOK AT ME I AM CALLING ANOTHER FOUL BECAUSE PRINCESS WANTS ATTENTION. Die, Ron Cherry. [/bigdaddydrew'd!]

Ahmad Blackened is the end. This was the exact same route Oklahoma ran for a TD against Texas Tech. It works a lot better when the safety doesn’t drop in like the Phantom, steal your precious diamonds, and leave a white glove behind to mark his territory.

SERENITY NOW! A nice bath. Yes, some nice bath salts. I’ll put on some Anita Baker and just let the night wash away. Sweeeeet Loooooooooooooove…

(HT: Dave.) When your defensive coordinator is caught on camera screaming “We’re FUCKED!” after a touchdown, you need more than bubbles and quiet storm to wash that away. We’re thinking industrial solvents and eight Xanax consumed with a tumbler of Johnnie Walker Blue label would help.