The Montana Meth Project represents a landmark of anti-drug advertising: it makes meth look awful while still managing to make the whole thing look somewhat flyover country-heroin-chic fabulous, a real accomplishment if we’ve ever seen one.

The evil mind lurking somewhere in the otherwise benign person of the Great Barstoolio saw this and did what innovators do: they innovatatatatate. We may or may not have chipped in with a few of these, but let us just say they represent some of the most disturbing and funny football/meth-themed farkery we’ve ever seen. You might be saying: isn’t that a very small subset of work?

And we’d answer that we’ve been awake for 32 days, and have no idea what you just said.

Enjoy. Because if you can’t laugh at meth, what can you laugh at, we ask? Besides genocide, that is. We’ve included four of them below: click over to Barstoolio’s House of Romantic But Inevitably Fatal Tropical Evil for the rest.

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Brian brings us this week’s Cupdate, featuring an impressive defense and extension of Missouri’s lead thanks to a weed arrest for the Tigers, who have brought the fiya this Fulmer Cup season. Explanations, bad math, and failed rhetorical backflips follow.

Not pictured on the board but making their debut: Boston College. BC doesn’t make it onto the board, but with the arrest of defensive end Brady Smith for on-campus sexual assault (is that somehow worse than off-campus sexual assault?) and breaking and entering, the Eagles earn six points for the double felony charges. Even in their shame, Boston College fans would lie to point out that the six point score is more than the Notre Dame Irish scored against Georgia Tech last year in their opener.

Like Lance Armstrong in an EPO fit raging up the Alpe d’Huez, Missouri continues to pull away from the peloton with expert timing. Austin Wuebbels less than composed traffic stop fumbling earned the Tigers another 4 points this week, proving that when the competition gets close, the Tigers go to the no-huddle and being piling on points daring you to keep up.

Still missing: Florida? Miami? AND FSU? The Sunshine State’s gone soft friends. Blame the kind and benevolent governance of our fabulous governor Charlie Crist, who’s got the economy flaming despite the entire state taking it in the ass in the real estate market. They’re all simply too happy and well-governed to get tasered! (Crossing fingers, looking at the Florida team and hoping everyone’s got their gun locks in the fixed position on their assault rifles.)

Week one, just peeking at the schedule, not getting too overly excited, but….

1. Michigan State at California

2. Illinois at Missouri

3. USC at Virginia

4. Alabama at Clemson

5. Tennessee at UCLA

And now, we drum.

The next semi-weekly poll question will be announced shortly, but first we review the results of our prior poll, “What’s the Most Suggestive Offense.” The winner by a nose: The Spread Option with 503 votes. The “Cock ‘n Fire” came in second with 453 votes, but we suspect that was just Blake Mitchell giggling and clicking in late-night drunken websurfing sessions.

The new poll question: which college football coach will be caught on-air saying the most profanities next season? Your choices:

1. Pete Carroll. If you wonder why, then fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.

2. Will Muschamp, Texas DC. Boom Motherfucker gets to parade his stuff on those nice, big sensitive ABC Big 12 mikes.

3. Les Miles. A wordsmith who can’t resist dropping his Schembechler emphases in the most routine of press conferences.

4. Jim Leavitt. ANGRY WORDS MAN WANTS MR. FIST TALK TO YOU.

5. Nick Saban. The Dark Lord is capable of leaving dark scorch marks on the pants of your ears.

Vote early, vote often, and remember: snakes in the wild don’t want to be picked up–they simply crave the touch of humans in their very bones. Especially the drunk humans.

ps. Cookie monster is sadly ineligible for this post.

Clock rules: we’re late!

We talked to Matt Hayes yesterday to follow up on the clock rules, and got a few things clarified on the proposed clock rule changes.

One: The 40 second rule will likely pass. It’s popular, it will get asses hauling on the chain gang, and as SMQ justly pointed out, it’s about a wash on the time. (An eensy bit on the short side, but mostly a wash.) There’s nothing in the way of major opposition to the rule, so it’s probably gonna happen.

Two: The change where the clock continues to run when the ball goes out of bounds? The blogosphere’s hatred of this proposal is shared by defensive coaches, who are the biggest opponents to the rule because of the obvious added advantage offenses get in clock-murder situation.

Three: The committee doesn’t have to approve the rules as an omnibus; they can line-item the thing, so the rules aren’t married. YAY line-item.

The NCAA Football Rules Committee, you breathe in vain. Air’s supposed to be moving smoothly into the lungs, transitioning between the alveoli and the blood, and thus traveling to important football organs like the muscles, heart, and lastly the brain. We say ‘lastly, the brain’, since the continual tinkering of the Rules Committee has resulted in a yearly series of dadaist proclamations and naked attempts to give fans less football and make officiating more, not less difficult. This is either brainless, disingenuous, or both. Given our pessimistic nature, we suspect both.

A proclamation! I need to make a proclamation!

The press release even has a Luntzian lilt to it: “NCAA Football Rules Committee Proposes Rules to Enhance Student-Athlete Safety and Encourage Consistent Pace of Play.” This means that the actual priority is shortening the game, since it’s mentioned second and not first. We hate the name of this memo: “Annual Plan for Enhancing the People’s Grain Production and Spreading Cooperative Cooperation To All Bulgarians” would have been a better one, which in Commie-speak meant “Eat a diet of hot rat, peasants: it’s time to buy some dachas.” We hate euphemisms: just say you want to make the game more manageable for television, and we’ll only be mostly enraged, as opposed to prodded by bullshit into a pissshitting, nail-spitting rage.

So what exactly have they proposed? We rate each proposal with the universally understood internet ratings of FAIL, Meh, and WINNAR. All rules phrasing is lifted directly from the proposal. To our surprise, we only FAIL one of these, but it’s a big, big FAIL. As in, a whole shipment of FAIL.

Additionally, after a year of consideration, the committee proposed a 40/25 second play clock system to encourage a consistent pace of play.

Rating: FAIL

So we’ll be more like the NFL! And there will be fewer plays! YAYYYYYYYYY. The reverse curse of replay has been the buggering around with clock rules, a task the committee botched the first time like a brain surgeon asked to perform an operation wearing oven mitts. This time, it’s moving the play clock to 40 seconds from 25, a move “some” coaches favored because of the differing amount of time officials from different conferences used in moving the chains. (more…)

BRIAN’S “YEAR IN SCHADENFREUDE” BEARS CLOSE EXAMINATION. We really implore you to go read it, but not in a rude way (damned caps lock…)

Blogtoberfest: Sometimes, we do one.

Jim Grobe is jowly enough for tradition at Michigan, who plan on getting one of those fax dealy-bobs in the office as soon as they get off the belt massager at the gym.

Rick Neuheisel at Duke? You betcha, per da Fanhouse.

Kyle notes in just one, just one we say, of his ongoing and superb series of bowl previews that it was a bad year to be a morbidly obese offensive genius. Sir, Mark Mangino disagrees vehemently! And is eyeing that tasty samosa you left in the Indian take-out bag!

Two entered. One left.

Colorado State quietly replaces the retired Sonny Lubick with CSU alum and former assistant Steve Fairchild, current offensive coordinator for the Buffalo Bills.

3rd Saturday in Blogtober has the proper name for Bobby Petrino now: Pignocchio.
Cocktails, distributed in great and indiscriminate quantities in your direction, sir.

Gerry Dorsey lightens the whole nervous, boiler-room feel of the Coaching Tilt-a-Whirl by pointing us toward this LSU performance artist, who is actually a superb dancer.

This year’s BCS game will feature local man Ted Warburton versus eight live dingoes, according to SEC commisioner Mike Slive in a press conference last night announcing the participants for this year’s BCS title game.

“At no point in the history of the BCS have we had more interest in the BCS, and I can safely and confidently say that at no point in the history of the game have we put together a more compelling matchup than Mr. Warburton versus this fine team of mad, crazed dingoes.”

Warburton, a copywriter for a large local utility company, seemed as surprised as the rest of the country that the college football season would come down to this. That it would involve him at all was doubly surprising for the the 34 year-old University of North Carolina graduate.

“I mean, it should have come down to a one-loss Kansas team, or even a two-loss Georgia team. There’s no rule that you have to win your conference championship, right? Mark Richt said as much in his press conference yesterday. Or even, if you’re so fascinated with the difference between no, one, and two losses, well…you could have had Hawaii in there, man.”

“Plus, I don’t know how putting me on a field with eight dingoes proves anything. I don’t have a wife and kids, but I do have a cat, and she’ll need to be fed if anything happens to me. The money’s nice, but it’s a lot of risk to take. Plus, it’s not really a football game, is it?”

Big East commish and BCS tycoon Mike Tranghese downplayed the clamor of complaints and criticisms surrounding the choice of Warburton versus dingo for the game.

“What we put on is a heckuva show, people, and that’s what we’re going to give the viewing public who tune in to this game. It’s been a topsy-turvy year in college football, and what better way to end it than with a good, old-fashioned classic: a two-loss Ted Warburton versus an undefeated pack of eight highly athletic dingoes.”

The matchup, per ESPN writer Ivan Maisel, does have its upside.

“Dingoes are opportunistic carnivores, and unafraid of most of what you’ll throw at them, defensively speaking. They try to limit their mistakes and work the numbers, most of the time, and that’s precisely what they’ll do against Ted here. He’ll have his hands full…of dingo fur, mostly.”

Warburton’s two losses this year were widely regarded by AP voters as “quality losses:” one, losing a girlfriend to his “lack of commitment,” and breaking his leg in a cycling accident. While there were others in the pack with fewer losses, Warburton’s strong performance throughout the year tilted the scales in his favor.

“Really, he was hampered by injury and a tough foe, a girlfriend wanting to settle down,” said Sporting News writer Matt Hayes. “Those two have taken down plenty of great teams in season. But when you look at his resume this year, there’s a lot of strengths: scoring not twice, but three times with that hot divorcee in the Bahamas, mowing his yard four weeks in a row, and flossing regularly throughout the year, including the hectic holidays.”

“In a year of almost-rans, he’s the closest we’ve got to a championship contender.”

The dingoes, for their part, are excited.

“rrrttggghhhRROOOAOAAAHHHHRRRR snrragggrrlglh ROOAOOOROOOOAAARRRGH YOUUUWWWL Ssnrarrgglhhhf, GrrrgghhhgHghhhgllll groarrggar gnsicnorhf grrrrswgghhHHHhh,” they said following the press conference, a noise widely interpreted to mean somehing between “we’re honored to be facing such a great opponent in a great venue,” or “BLOOD! BLOOD! BLOOD BLOOD BLOOD BLOOD!!!”

This week’s random notes and observations come to you, as always, from deep inside Pete Carroll’s Enchanted Gridiron Grotto. It’s champagne bath week in honor of the thumping of Arizona State, meaning that champagne is all we’re bathing in down here for a while, meaning a helluva ant problem is on the way pronto.

The Grotto this week is brought to you by Jared, who wants you to know that if you’re looking for a cheap whore detector, you can purchase a wide variety of them at your local Jared jeweler.

Last night, during EDSBS Live, the discussion board broke out with a long chain on the infamous dog of dubious pedigree that nipped Jerraud Powers, Auburn DB, in the waning minutes of the Iron Bowl. Elroy the Racist Dog, as we’ll now call him, elicited the following string of comments that had us barely able to continue the show:

That dog has Birth of a Nation on DVD

That dog doesn’t understand why Jimmy the Greek was fired.

Brent Schaeffer still looks, at each game, like a talented athlete attempting the quarterback position for the first time no matter how many games he’s actually played under center.

Nebraska’s defense would have allowed 35 points to Craig James’ flag football team.

He went to Jared to buy me some shiny fossilized carbon! God, you monkeys are so easily impressed. We can’t escape from these commercials. One on the radio this morning touted the best name for a pearl necklace we’ve ever heard: THE LADIES’ PEARLMASTER. It’s got a Hemi in it made from real lightning! REAL LIGHTNING!

Robert Killebrew again earned the Emily Post award for best etiquette displayed by a linebacker, courteously allowing Aggie defenders to run clean around him and his gentle, supportive tackle attempts all day long. He’s earned a spot in the hearts of Longhorn fans everywhere. A lesion, really, from stress and aggravation, one that may very well kill some of them one day in the distant future.

Kept waiting for someone to bare their breasts in the live shots from Baton rouge. Sadly, the only nudity seen during the game was Mike the Tiger lolling on his back in his cage. Full-frontal tiger penis action that got every Chinese pharmacist giddy with the thought of massive profit.

The Father-in-law notes that one of the Aggie cadets has an Eagle Scout badge on. (more…)

Not bologna–it’s gourmet soppresata. Blogtoberfest, the finest of expensive lunchmeats provided free of charge to you.

Yes, it was on Deadspin. But it’s still awesome and in need of posting here: Kansas State fans killing poor sports reporter Jim Knox.

As always, it’s the repetition making it funnier with each viewing. That and the fact that there’s no information on whether he’s ok or not. Jim Knox, fine! Jim Knox, dead at the age of something-something! Either way, man fall down go AAAAAGGGGHHHH!!!

Dennis Dixon’s season is done, but not before he outran the Arizona defense on a torn ACL. There should be some kind of award for spectacular performances on injured limbs.

This isn’t Barry Switzer, right? We kept waiting for autoerotic asphyxiation jokes to break the spell, which they usually do.

Brian has the best line on Lloyd Carr’s legacy as a coach of coaches:

Carr was stubborn, arrogant, and loyal to a fault. There is no Carr coaching tree because the program is inbred.

In summary, it’s Carr=good dude, meh coach since 2005 or so.

Losers With Socks calls Tennessee a flattering name. Um, we think:

I hope the Vols prove them wrong. I love the cockroach nature of this team. You can’t kill them.

An apt name, though it must enqueasen the stomachs of Vol fans to hop on the bandwagon for a team that was, at least after four games, looking like the backbreaker for the Philip Fulmer regime.

They’re selling beer at Arrowhead Stadium for the Border War, meaning that for once, there will be drunk people in the stands of a college football game. Xenu forbids!