YOU LET COACH PATERNO DOWN. It's easy to look at this letter demanding payment of thirteen dollars and think "cheapskate." But in 1982, that was a lot of money, especially at the Fiesta Bowl. Heck, you could do a line off the Mayor of Tempe's chest for only five bucks, AND you got a souvenir cup!
P.S. A copy of this letter is going to your parents. Love, Vice Principal Turd Ferguson.
A MILLION DOLLARS ISN'T COOL. You know what's cool? One hundred and fifty million dollars, all stacked up in neat piles in a ski boat. Then Mack Brown gives the go sign and Applewhite punches the accelerator and it's a glorious summer day, just kneeboarding on the lake while fifties and hundreds smack you in the face as they come whipping out of the boat.
DO NOT GOOGLE "GEORGE O'LEARY EXTENSION." Tack on another couple years of direct deposit for UCF's golden
boy man lopsided pile of flesh, who's making more OrlandoBuxx than he knows how to spend. (This is largely because the OrlandoBuxx currency is only redeemable for chiropractor services and pool chemicals.)
PLAYBOOK GOODNESS AHOY. Alternatively, for those of you who are not much for book learnin', scroll down a bit and read about how Sonny Dykes is creating a roster of assassins. A blown ACL means six months on the sniper range, son.
A FIELD GUIDE TO GUMPDOM. They are everywhere, and if you're not careful they'll marry into your family. Have you ever been to an Alabama themed Easter brunch? SPOILER: Jesus did not have bangs.