Bo Pellini got started with the Fountainhead, but he really got rarin' when he started Atlas Shrugged. He knows this Ayn Rand guy was a cat man, like himself, but he really thinks that objectivism has something to offer the Nebraska football program."If my own happiness is the moral purpose of my life," he thought, "and reason my only absolute, then shit, Ameer Abdullah is running out of the wildcat!"
"The measure of a man, Doug," Brady said, "is what a man puts on his pizza. Me, I'm traditional. No pineapple or spinach or whathaveyou. I just like the basics. Sausage, pepperoni, maybe a little feta to please Mrs. Hoke. Now Doug, what do you like on YOUR pizza?"
"If I answer you, can I leave?"
"Probably not, Doug. Need to get your thoughts on calzones, too."
I have acquired territories to the north and south. From Kalamazoo north to Fruitport, all know of my wrath. I have stared at Governor Synder, and he has not met my gaze. I am the one who knocks, except I do not knock, because Rose Bowl champions just stare down the fucking door. So go ahead. You give me those pass interference penalties on my wildly talented cornerbacks. You shall only make me thirst more for sweet, sweet vengeance. And that new Rich Homie Quan single with Young Thug. That too.
My summer? You wouldn't belieeeeve how awesome it's been. I'm benching 350 easy. Renting this crazy five bed, six bath, four pool townhouse. I'd buy but most of my cash is in stocks that have done nothing but go up. I got Beyonce pregnant. And she wrote me a thank you note.
Proof? Man, stop being such a cop.
::ring ring ::
"BA-BA-BA, BA-BARBARA ANN, BA-BA-BA, BA-BARBARA ANN, BA-BA-BA, BA-BARBARA ANN OOOWEEEEEOOOOWEEEEEEE-"
"GODDAMMIT TIM I TOLD YOU TO STOP CALLING ME AT THIS NUMBER." Ron Turner slams down the phone.
Cultural awareness is super important to me, so when I found out I could do an internship at the Tokyo office of the pharmaceutical company where my uncle's a vice president, I jumped at the chance. Once I confirmed that my stepmom would pay for business class tickets, of course. It's a really amazing country, and we could learn a lot from the Japanese. Like, did you know they haven't had bowl games for twenty years? And there's no stigma to it! It's probably why the streets are so clean, too. I remember the 2010 Outback Bowl. Those Auburn fans basically sweat garbage.
WOOOOOOOOOOOO WE'RE HERE MOTHERFUCKERS JERSEY REPRESEEEEEENT GONNA GET MY LAX ON AND THEN MY RELAX ON YOU KNOW WHAT I'M SAYIN'??? 35 MILES TO NEW YORK SO YOU KNOW WE GOT THAT EMPIRE STATE SHIT, BUT THIS THE GARDEN STATE BECAUSE THIS SHIT IS BEAUTIFUL AND FLOWERING LIKE THE GARDENIAS YOUR MOM PLANTED. YEAH, I KNOW YOUR MOM. I KNOW YOUR MOM REAL WELL. HOLLA ATCHA BOY, GOTTA GET BACK TO WORK AT THAT GOLF COURSE LYYYFEEEEEEE.
(cries while looking at a copy of The Velveteen Rabbit)
I don't see how you can accuse me of cheating when I bought the Cliffs Notes for the wrong summer reading assignment.
Difficult summer for me, I can't lie. Dad hadn't been doing all that well, but the doctors said they thought he might make it to Christmas, and we really, really wanted to get him to one last game at Camp Randall. It just wasn't to be. And, after he passed, I did what any son would: fulfilled his dying wish. Did I feel great stealing that police van and burning it in the middle of the park? No. But I would have felt worse letting Dad down.
So that's what I told the judge and she FUCKING BOUGHT IT. I don't even know who my dad is and I only got probation!
I am watching. Always watching. Oh, Dantonio. Poor, sweet Dantonio. You have not yet conceived of what I plan to do to you. My revenge will be swift, and brutal. You shall hear the gnashing of teeth, and the crying of women, and the consumption of cold pizza while being very sad shall be yours. I am fifty now, Dantonio. The concepts of "trespassing" or "stalking" do not apply to me, anymore than the laws of defense apparently applied to Sammy Watkins. Like Carlos Hyde, you shall never see the power of my awesome destruction until it is far too late. Also, I have stolen some of your mail and ordered you sub-par towels. FEEL MY WRATH.
Kicking. Kicking forever. Kicking in thousands of ways, for miles, for years, forever. Kicking above us, kicking below us. Are we the football, and is God the punter? If God punted us, and we went through the uprights, could that count as a score? I have come to the barren place to ask these questions to the earth. The barren place is "the parking lot of a Perkins in Coralville" and I have eaten quite a bit of mescaline. I shall know all soon, and then I shall punt on all downs, and no downs, and beyond downs, for I am who am, and shall kick forever.
We're sorry, Purdue can't come to the phone right now. Purdue is very busy, but if you leave a detailed message with your name, your phone number, another phone number, the name of your favorite childhood children's book character named "Black Beauty," the name of the largest water tower in your town, and a beeper number, Purdue will get back to you as soon as Purdue returns from wherever Purdue has gone.
Goddammit Jim, where is this fucking beach? You told me when we signed that dang contract that the Big Ten had big beaches, just like good ol' Ocean City. You can find all kinds of things in Ocean City, except for the shit you can only find in Rehoboth, but that's another story for another time and place. But anyway, you told me that this was a beach conference. That's precisely what you said on that conference call you thought you'd muted yourself on, something about a "son of a beach conference." So where's the beach, Jim? All I packed for Big Ten media days was three pounds of Old Bay and enough Smith Island Cake to put down a riot but there isn't a goddang blue crab to be seen in this godfersaken land. Give me a call, Jim. I need an answer.
Randy. You know which one.
Those who have not been raised here think summer is the time for merriment and relaxation, seduced by the abundance of degrees Fahrenheit. But that is just a meaningless figure, tallied and forgotten just as easily as a box score. Summer is the time for the sharpening of axe heads, for the storing of wood, for the salting of meats. Summer is the time to prepare for winter, which operates on a binary number system: 1 is alive, and 0 is dead.