Well, this feels odd. It’s coming on the boat! Kill it with a speargun! NOOOOWWWWW!!!

The fingers are completely atrophied from a week of intensive nitrogen narcosis, so we’ll warm them up by applauding heartily for Holly, who won Best Actress in a lead role in her work at the helm here last week. (Clapping furiously while still shaking seawater from our ears three days later.) It’s good to be back, mostly because it’s nice to be in a place where people aren’t all up on their roofs nailing down plywood and tin roofing panels. Paloma tore Cayman Brac up something nasty–there’s only one dive shop operating and no hotels four months later, but that one dive shop has a badass SEAL boat that goes 40 knots on choppy seas and makes you want to charge the dock with a M-16 after the ride.

WAAAHHH. Quit being so interesting, college football. Anything pissing off the gelled-coiffed Turnpike lizards who scout NFL talent by measuring forties and tossing out the bonus money is delightful to us, especially if it is a universally recognized fact that the spread is not going away among the Peter King class. May they all get waterboarded with scalding cappucinos. (Actually, this would be a superb way to wake up every morning. Make a note, manservant.)

You would call it a small tragedy. A scout would write “cardiac deficiency.” Brian Mandeville, Northwestern tight end, has to drop out of the combine due to a heart condition. He’ll only have a Northwestern education to fall back on, meaning he can either be a blogger or attempt to equal the achievements of NW’s most illustrious alum, Fred Fagg, Jr.

To be awarded: [NAME REDACTED] likes it. Things happening. Players doin’ it. Movin’ it. Getting excited. Seein’ improvement. Winning points. Likin’ it.

He’ll scuttle his career and go someplace worthless… Like Harvard or someplace else glossy, in Nebraska qb Patrick Witt’s case, according to Corn Nation.