JOHNNY PLEASE COME BACK. We didn't think we missed him, and then this happened.
It's already a sadder terrarium without you, Juan Futbol, and not just because you gave commentators a chance to endlessly tumble face-first over the steeplechase bar of their own idiocy and wad panties into knots unknown to the crustiest of sailors. Come home, Johnny. We're sorry. (Via)
THEY ARE INDEED A BIT MAD. James Franklin can't even leave a goodbye message to Vandy without eliciting a bit of anger, a perverse tribute to how good Franklin was for Vandy: fans who once might have shrugged and thought "Well, we're Vandy" now assume the job is competitive enough to generate its own gravity, and thus be worthy of some anger when someone escapes orbit.
JUST THROW IT OUT THERE, TALK RADIO. Sure, just allege that Jeremy Pruitt left Florida State because he was having an affair with an FSU employee. Don't be shy with it. Like, HEAVE it out there. Get some distance on it.
KLIFF DON'T EVER SAY WHAT YOUR FAVORITE RAP SONGS ARE EVER THAT'S HOW YOU GET KILLED IN THESE STREETS. Dammit, Kliff, this was going so well, and then you had an opinion.
WELL IT'S BEEN FUN. Good luck with the online Tupac-istas, and if the Ghostface cultists come for you, well, not even luck will help you then.
VILE! Auburn Jesus and his electric spirit do make for the best emails.
ETC: You could make fun of an MMA fighter for pooping himself in the ring, but then you remember that he is an MMA fighter, and you are not.