God, how fuckinshitty is this? We have to endure the athletic deserts of golf and baseball for months and months on end until the battle cries of Tim Tebow echo from the Swamps of Flor*da to the Bays of Washington to the tiny, tiny brain of Orgeron. Until the glasses of His Vestiness cast an uber-squintiness factor of 9,000 across the embattled lands of the Big10(11)…

Until the days of war, guts and Glorious BCS Chaos return (FUCK PLAYOFFS), I shall depart forthwith to the deep underground fortress of YouTubia, to shelter myself from the evils of the offseason.

Hail!

Some shameless self promotion would be appreciated – let us know when your stuff goes up at TSN or anywhere else.

Raffault’s Chinons are for queers and steers, and you don’t look much like a cow to me. Rabelais toasted with Charles Joguet, a man’s Chinon.

That’s the best “elevator pitch” I’ve heard in months. It’s a damn shame there’s no venture capital left. (The banks and Charlie Weis ate it all.)

On the sixth day, Ignignokt created the 400th dimension. And it was good beyond all of your inferior earthly comprehension.

With a four team playoff, that wouldn’t be the case. There have been a few two-loss teams in the BCS top four, but they all either champions of a power conference or had a tough non-conference schedule.

Asscrackdafuckblow!

I recommend trying several cases of the Chinon (Olga Raffault would be my choice) to try and create a reasonable facsimile of that hibernation machine.