Yes, yes. Quite.

Devin Wordley, Art Critic, gesturing at the wall of a gallery: Yes! Quite! A savage excoriation of the Anglo-Germanic-American bloodlust for competition and cheap, facile artifice without edges; yes, a true jab at the hollow, bloody soul of the worker’s theatre. Note the use of faux-trope here as the artist cloaks themselves in the sheep’s skin in order to come closer for the true kill, working in the cheap mock-airbrush to get his Trojan Horse of an assault on the mores of violent spectacle: a dog’s life shrouded in the illusion of glory, a…

Dude: Dude, that’s my favorite poster!

DW: Um, yes? Poster, you say?

Dude: Yeah. If you get high and look at it, you will lose your shit. There’s no helping it. I mean…they’re dogs, man. And they’re playing football!!!

DW: Yes, I see now. Dogs playing football.

Dude: You gay?

DW: Yes, yes. I am. A gay man in need of a new art review before deadline this afternoon.

You may purchase Dexter’s favorite piece of subversive football art on Amazon for $29.99, marked down from its original $99.99 robbing selling price.

Country lovin’ is fierce lovin’; hence the fierce emotions governing such things as NASCAR, loyalty to American car brands, and other things you can get the pitchfork and torch crowd riled up about. If you wonder what we mean by that: the people in the village who show up to kill Frankenstein with torches and pitchforks? Those people, who were told by the sensible people to go chase the monster to some place called “America.” That’s the torch and pitchfork crowd, and the last time we were a card-carrying member came with the last few weeks of the [NAME REDACTED] administration, when would have happily carried the rail so long as it had one very, very enthusiastic and energetic B-grade coach on it promising improvement the whole time.

Grrrr! Ahhhh!

West Virginia police are investigating death threats by the P ‘n T Krue (”Monster!”) against Rich Rodriguez.

According to the report by columnist Mitch Vingle, Monongalia County, W.Va., Sheriff Joseph C. Bartolo said his office is indeed investigating the situation.

Bartolo called the forwarded information “very vague” but said Lt. Walter Fumich would head an investigation.

Oh, Lord/Jebus/Cthulu/Buddha/Charles Bronson, please don’t let this lead back to a message board. Please, please, please not. Because what fan hasn’t, at one point threatened to drop a safe on a particular coach? An open safe filled with irradiated scorpions, each given their own tiny little scorpion handgun? We mean, come on. Who hasn’t made that exact threat on a Gator message board…sometime in the past….say, right around 2004 or so…

Kids! It’s Chip, here to teach you the invaluable lessons of the street.

When we think gangsta, we think Colorado, baby. Mountains! White people! A dry cold! Nothin’ more pimpin’ than that son. Hand me down mah fitted whilst we cruise to Breckinridge, bitches. We running snow to the slopes, if you know what we mean.

Remember, no one has the manual for life, since as another, far superior writer once suggested, it’s in the sac of tissue cut from the human body and discarded at birth commonly referred to as the “afterbirth.” So sometimes, when one is called on to appear at an NBA game in a guest appearance as the mascot from a popular local college team, one gets a bit tone-deaf in attempting to match the “urban contemporary” key of the NBA’s market image.

From the Denver News:

The University of Colorado’s costumed buffalo mascot showed up for a “kids night” at a Denver Nuggets basketball dressed in what some described as “gangsta-themed” attire, the Boulder Daily Camera reported.

The incident happened Friday night at the Pepsi Center when the “Chip” wore a do-rag, baggy pants, and a gang-associated tattoo.

Now, that’s not so bad. Come to think of it, if you consider on on a Sontag-ian “camp level,” it’s…

According to the Daily Camera, the mascot costume had a teardrop tattoo below one eye. The newspaper said the tattoo is commonly associated with gang activity, often signifying that the wearer has killed someone.

Oh, come on. That can’t be too offensive considering it’s a fucking buffalo, and totally has killed people. (As a species, we still have the lead on them by miles. Can’t fire a rifle with a cloven hoof yet? Tough. Tell it to Darwin.) The appearance of Chip in gangsta gear is part of a disturbing pattern of behavior by the mascot, who is youngish for a buffalo and trying to find herself, and consequently is hanging out with an undesirable crowd in an attempt to upset and shock her attendants.

See the crowd after the jump. It’s an ugly scene. (more…)

Minimal football noise today, so let’s access that spleen and talk about how much another corrupt, shitty sport blows. No particular reason.

Full of shit, but will get you laid: Baudrillard.

We’re big Jean Baudrillard fans, and not because we’re some organic tea-sipping grad student getting wood to the concept of actually writing crap bollocks about art, meaning, and dissecting meaning without having to actually come up with any ourselves. You’re out there, we know who you are, and we will refrain from making the Starbucks serve-us-our-latte professor joke, because many of you do indeed go on to do terrible things like teach Lacan and Derrida to smartstruck private school kids cowed by your ability to string together three sentences together and use the phrase “late-stage capitalism” without shitting yourself from shame.

Plus, when you can quote shit like this pants just fly off smart ladies not quite smart enough to realize just how full of shit you really are:

Like dreams, statistics are a form of wish fulfillment.

That’s Baudrillard, who rules like Motorhead because he’s totally quotable, completely full of shit, and sold tons of books in France despite the fact that he, himself, would remind anyone he was brimming with intellectual fecal matter. He insisted, in fact, on most everything being fake and shitty–simulacra–mere imitations of things that once existed, and that most culture was just growing like the fingernails and hair on a corpse.

Drop that at a cocktail party, and someone will probably either pose thoughtfully or call you a homosexual. Either way you’re going for the bullshit gold, since it’s English major bongwater primo stuff. However, it may rightfully describe the EDSBS official Most Despised Game, not a sport, but a game, the hypertrophied croquet match that is baseball, and the fact that old incontinent people care enough about it to waste an ex-Senator’s time on whether or nor its players are taking illegal supplements. (more…)

It’s the last call for Da U at the Orange Bowl this Saturday night when Miami hosts Virginia under the lights. I’m not a ‘Canes fan but I’m a football fan and if I had to name my most vivid college football memories, half of them would be housed at the OB.

The ‘84 National Championship Game: Greatest game I ever saw. The call Osborne made to go for 2 at the end was like a perfect storm of stones, musk, and arrogance [for the young pups, see: Miles, Les]. This is the game that hooked me on college football and it’s an addiction I’m still battling today.

The ‘87 Orange Bowl: Brian Bosworth stalked the sidelines while on suspension from the team sporting a wicked haircut and wearing a t-shirt that spelled out N.C.A.A. with the words National Communists Against Athletes. On the field, the Sooners laid the wood to Arkansas 42-8 but all I remember is the Boz and his stance against the man, trying to hold a brother down.

The Brawl and The Call: Not one word needs to be said.

It’s not just about the games, it’s about the fear, loathing, and feral atmosphere that permeates the old joint. When they come out of the tunnel, I used to wonder if it wasn’t fog at all, but rather a blizzard of crack smoke. The electricity in the air isn’t something synthetic (unless you count the fans, players, coaches, and broadcasters fueled on Charlie and Cris) either. There appears to be something very real that turns people into maniacs with a riot mentality when they enter the hallowed walls of that place. It may look like it’s on death’s door, with the crumbling walls, dilapidated toilets, and mysterious yellow fluid that leaks from its bowels, but if you look her in the eye, there’s still a fire raging in there that will take all you got, all night long, and laugh in your face when you’re done. Kind of like Peter O’Toole.

But thanks to criminal city management, fiscal nightmares, and $2 whore, Donna Shalalalalala, the OB is shutting her doors. What’s worse, the ‘Canes’ new home will be Dolphins Stadium. The thought of the ‘Canes playing in that synthetic place makes me sick. The concessions serve tater salad and tapioca; it’s like a goddamned nursing home. Look what it’s done to the Dolphins! But alas, this isn’t about the future, it’s about the past, so this weekend, when you’re tailgating, whether you’re at a game or on the couch, do a rail of blow and pour a little out for a fallen homey. You don’t have to love her, but you gotta respect her.

Recognize.

This post has a soundtrack. Click on it for the proper accompaniment to the story.


MP3 File

By Crom, Josh McNeil is a happy man.

Get this man an AXE body spray endorsement:

Several hours after the University of Tennessee football team thumped its opponent on the field Saturday, UT center Josh McNeil was quizzed by police about a broken window at his apartment and the three intoxicated women in his bed.

He celebrates like Conan the Barbarian, that Josh McNeil. We think the running for the Thighsman Award may be done, since McNeil just grabbed it by its brassy crotch and wrestled it back to his bed/animal husbandry lot/one man European sex club. Those trashy Euro orgy videos where everyone’s hooting on the participants? All filmed in Josh McNeil’s bed. Travis Henry just called him to urge him to wear a condom, and Colin Farrell wants to go to Dubai with him for the weekend just to watch him work a hotel room with eight escorts and twenty bottles of Cristal.

McNeil can’t be charged with anything in the incident, since banging three girls at once in a drunken victory celebration is only illegal in France and the Republic of Third-grade-gaysylvania. (Real, honest homosexuals, on the other hand, have no problem celebrating in multiples.)

McNeil cannot even be charged with sexual assault on an animal, since the “half bear, other half cat” formula for Tennessee women on Rocky Top means McNeil technically made love to 3/2 of a cat and 3/2 of a bear. Charging him with anything like this means lawyers in Tennessee would have to work with fractions, and no one wants to get into that shit. That’s why they went to law school and not med school, which requires math and a hunger for human blood.)

There’s details here, sure: a potted plant thrown through a window, an argument, several guns including rifles, shotguns, and a handgun found in apartment. Read the article if you actually care what happened, including the fact that the three women were charged with underage consumption of alcohol. (Note: consumption of Josh McNeil is totally legal and obviously in demand, ladies of the 865. And in plentiful supply, judging from this.)

All we want to say is that the Josh McNeil, the video game industry needs to make Intercourse Hero and set whatever you do as the Expert Level. ONE HUNDRED COCKTAILS to you, sir.

(HT: Voluminous.)

Dear sir-

This is me, rich dude Cary Garnett. I have a monocle because I’m rich.

My name is Cary Garnett, and I’m awesome and rich and love to give money to football programs. Especially ones named after horses, because I’m hung like one, and so is my good friend and coaching legend Gary Barnett.

I’m writing you today to suggest my good friend, Gary Barnett, for the opening you have at SMU for the position of head football coach. And if the word opening seems suggestive, it should be: I promise you my good friend will turn SMU into the whoriest of whore college football programs, and lead the Mustangs back to national prestige one hard, furious cash-subsidized hooker rodeo at a time.

Gary Barnett’s record speaks for itself: he turned Northwestern around. Northwestern, a school that had previously known nothing but sorrow and cold, escort-free winters of football regret. Barnett brought them victory with a special kind of sunshine: hookers. (more…)

Ohio State fans have achieved the impossible. Despite craving the taste of teargas from birth, allegedly beating up handicapped people, and entering each game with the homicidal zeal of an ultra-nationalist Spartak supporter armed with a Camelbak full of cut rate vodka distilled from radioactive Ukrainian produce, you have become an object of sympathy.

Mission accomplished, Penn State fans. You now have the mantle of playing the barbarians in Capital One commercials. You can even now crush that small businessmen smugly in the ads, too, you dicks. You never give him a chance.

THAT WAS THE SICKEST THING I’VE EVER SEEN! YOU ARE THE MAN! We’re shocked they didn’t fistpound and then immediately play tummysticks out of sheer excitement before watching Penn State die a slow, miserable death 37-17 to Ohio State. We commend the Florida legislature for their foresight in passing a bill to make firing your weapon under threat legal, as these people clearly would have been shot in response to the beer-pelting. (Remember: don’t tase me, bro! Shoot me. Tasing is for real bitches.)

Subcommandante Wayne says he thinks these guys are bitches and all, and he woulda laid down some asskick flooring free of charge, but the Grand Am was broken and he couldn’t get to the game, man.

(Multiple tips: Yost, Big Ten Tailgate.)

We’ll just summarize every Georgia fan’s retort to anything ever said during the current streak of Gator dominance of the Georgia football game:

Jean shorts Robert Edwards still leading series Lindsay Scott Buck Belue Spurrier gay mullet!

With that out of the way, we re-present Reggie Nelson scaring Mohammed Massaquoi onto the ground. Sit, Mo, sit! Good dog.

Greetings, bitchez! Subcommandante Wayne rappin’ strong at the mic and wanting you to know one thing loud and clear right now:

OHIO STATE IZZ NUMBAH ONE AGAIN BITCHEZ!!!111!!!

Too strong. Too long. Down to get some friction on. That’s Ohio State, which rhymes with hate. Like hat-erz. You were all down on us after the cheesedick refs busted us in the national champion ship game. I mean, did you see the holding penalties? They held on every play. That’s why they scored. All that holding and shit screwed Troy over. I guess that’s what all that Florida oil money will get you, man–refs bought and sold and ready to go roll in the swimming pool full of hookers you have waiting for them at the Residence Inn.

That’s me at Chili’s getting my drink on and watching Tressel beat the world do death with his sweatervested dick. Ohio State rules and you suck.

(Those places are AWESOME. I crashed at one my friend Randy had for a party on the interstate. They’ll be talking about what we did to that carpet for years, man.)

Anyway, same day, new shit. Ohio State is undefeated, which means they’ve been kicking ass, taking names, and haven’t given up shit yet. And Todd Boeckman pwnz you. His real name is Cockman, because he’s laying pink lincoln to all your women and you don’t even know it how bad they want his luscious lumber again. He laid so much wood to your team’s beaver lodge Fish and Wildlife wardens got after him, and he had to change it again to Coeckman, but even then that wasn’t enough, because they were still after his ass, so he had to put the B in there and let him lay low for a while. (more…)

The game matters and features the number two team in the nation and it’s bed-jumping maniac of a coach versus last year’s Big East insurrector, Rutgers. But those are logical reasons you’d watch the game. You’d watch the game anyway, eyeslut, even if it were UTEP squaring off in an exhibition game versus a bullring filled with excitable live panthers live from Cartagena.

Ten reasons the true devotee might watch the game tonight between USF and Rutgers:

10. Count the number of Sopranos references. Without Gandolfini sighting, over/under stands at 8; with a Gandolfini sighting, over/under spikes to 15.

9. Cringe as you listen to the wind rip across the second most endangered forest in the world, the exotic and irreplaceable fibers of Jim Leavitt’s vocal cords. When it fails, he will communicate via a Stephen Hawking voice box hooked up to a bullhorn. BLOCK OUT AND TACKLE YOU FUCKING FUCK ARRRGGGHHHH [/Hawking}

8. To see if Singlet Guy dare cross into Jersey wearing the immortal singlet and cape, and if he is allowed to leave the state alive with it.

7. Ray Rice ran on the South Florida defense for 200 yards last year at USF, so intrepid gamblers can wager on him easily doubling that in front of a friendly home crowd. Free advice, friends: 400 yards!!! We won’t even charge for it! Wagering is fun!

6. Matt Grothe will do something jaw-droppingly dumb immediately following praise from announcers. Another rule of the universe fulfilled in front of your very eyes.

5. Chris Fowler will leap from the booth in suicidal glee at his final escape from Flutie and James before landing harmlessly on a hot dog vendor’s pile of buns and being forced after the “equipment failure” to do the next Thursday’s game with…Craig James and Doug Flutie. Look in his eyes, viewer–those are the dead eyes of mad despair.

4. Marvel at the misplaced mascot that is the Scarlet Knight: with six huge, gray, plaque-encrusted teeth, he really should be not the Garden State’s mascot, but West Virginia’s, instead.

3. Bulls kicker Delbert Alvarado is 7-12 on the season, which should be good, clean fun for everyone concerned…especially if ESPN’s field mike gets really close to Jim Leavitt, with or without the Steven Hawking voicebox. I WILL RIP YOUR LEGS OFF AND BEAT YOU TO PUDDING ALVARADO GARRRGGGG [/hawking]

2. Continue to struggle to come up with a proper comparison for Matt Grothe’s unique visage. We’re going with the love child of frequently mentioned blog-idol Charles Bronson and an African Bird Eating Toad.

1. Pray for USF’s sake that their newest, most vocal fan doesn’t have the same win-depleting effect she had on her alma mater. Another rule of cosmic law: the more her team loses, the bigger her boobs get!

USF, welcome to the loss column. Don’t blame us. Blame the Sterger curse.

8:00 PM Holly: This is what happens when you drink and Photoshop on the eve of a must-win game, campers. Let it be a warning lesson, but it does have a point: The SEC is Tiger and Gator country, and like it or not, for the most part the rest of the teams are flitting about them like so many pesky military helicopters. Tonight, we separate the chainsaw-endowed werewolves from the giant mutant lizards. (NB: The gorilla on the sidewalk was originally cast as Coach O, but the sinister elephant head was too perfect to pass up. And, really, who’s to say that’s not The Orgeron’s true form?)

Let’s dance.

8:08 PM Barstoolio: I’ve said this before on the radio, but it bears repeating on this occasion: nothing would have me put out faster than to hear “I bring you Jim Tressel’s nipples in a Target bag.” What!

8:11 PM Holly: What’s this? A nightcap of Domer despair! Dear Harrison Smith: Before kickoff, just want to let you know–you can still come home. We love you, and by the time you get on a standby flight we’ll surely lose another defender to injury or meth. Fly safe! XOXO, Knoxville.

8:17 PM Holly: How ADORABLE: a UCLA defender knocks Clausen into the air like a straw puppet, and another one basically takes him in his arms and tenderly slams him to the sideline. Mind the spikes, Bruins!

8:19 PM Barstoolio: I wonder if the abandoned husk of Notre Dame football can be bronzed. Like baby shoes!

8:23 PM J-Money: Someone call vaudeville…Gary Danielson has run away again. He looks exactly like a ventriloquist dummy. And by that, I mean he looks like he’d be OK with another man’s hand up his back. I’m not even kidding…totally wooden. I’m pretty sure his morning routine involves Pledge.

8:25 PM Holly: And away we go. Florida-LSU, kicking off…now. Team meteor!

8:32 PM J-Money: The team introductions are brought to us by Applebees. Great, now I’ll think about Tim Tebow the next time I eat a basket of riblets. And I’ll think about riblets the next… oh.

8:37 PM Holly: This game is sponsored in part by the DVD Release of Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer. Oh, really?

8:38 PM J-Money: “Fantastic 4″ should be how they refer to any remaining Notre Dame fans.

8:40 PM J-Money: Sonic scares the shit out of me. I’m pretty sure their recipes are all written using the “I double dog dare you” technique.

8:47 PM Holly: TIMBER! Down goes Tebow. On the field.

8:47 PM J-Money: Holy shit! Not only did Tyson Jackson take Timmaaaay’s face off, he also has the names of two disgraced former icons!

8:48 PM Barstoolio: Every time I hear “Glenn Dorsey” my mind starts to hear “Ken Dorsey.” It’s a particularly harsh form of torture.

8:48 PM J-Money: Zenon? Isn’t that also on the periodic table?

8:49 PM Holly: And every time I hear HIS name, I flash to Zebo, the evil clown on Nickelodeon’s Are You Afraid Of The Dark.

8:52 PM J-Money: Is “the charges were dropped” some kind of code for “the parking lot owner was just given a pair of diamond pants”?

8:53 PM Holly: *stifles related Perriloux joke*

8:56 PM J-Money: I hope to God we’ve just heard the one and only use of the phrase “he kind of squirts forward”.

9:02 PM Holly: I…um…a square dance just broke out midfield. I’m joking, but only because it would make more sense than whatever the FUCK kind of formation that was supposed to be.

9:03 PM Holly: CBS Interns + EDSBS 4EVA! This just popped up during a sideline report. Everything’s coming up Swindle, boys and girls.

9:10 PM Holly: Where’s your god now, LSU? Florida’s is on the 2 and driving…..yup. Touchdown Tebow, in not-unimpressive fashion.

9:19 PM J-Money: It bothers me when one of the defenders lines up directly in the Tiger’s pupil.

9:20 PM Holly: On an unrelated note, unless you’re a CBS copy editor: The headline “In Trouble Again: Police Site Perriloux” just flashed on the screen. Look for it to reappear in the spring as a hit hourlong drama about a riverboat gambling ring.

9:24 PM J-Money: You’re right. Anybody can beat anyone now. Except Notre Dame. At this point, I’m not even sure they could beat off. HEY OOOOOH!

9:28 PM J-Money: Nice pass, Perrillioux. Two more like that, and you’ll win yourself a stuffed SpongeBob.

9:29 PM Holly: I was supposed to be at the UCLA-Notre Dame game tonight, and I am overjoyed to be snickering at it from a safe distance instead. Bruins, you may not respect yourselves or your conference enough to show up for primetime, but you have to respect natural law: Notre Dame is wretched and must not prevail. World without end, amen.

9:30 PM J-Money: OK, I just got to see a horrid local commercial about finding a needle in a haystack. Know who looks for needles in a haystack? Junkies.

9:31 PM Barstoolio: 7-10 UF. I like that Florida’s in this game, but should LSU and USC eat it, that leaves a door open for Ohio State. And I’d rather meet Mangino in a dark alley with a bottle of baby oil than see that happen.

9:39 PM J-Money: I want to know how many of the Gators wear Crocs.

9:40 PM Holly: I don’t care much one way or the other for Miles…but to see him defending that Highsmith hit? Gross.

9:42 PM J-Money: Also gross? Seeing his teeth in HD. Like a candy corn sandwich.

9:44 PM Holly: I flip over to ABC for a second and see such a clamoring UCLA celebration that I figure the game must be over–but no, they’ve kicked a field goal. To put them ahead 6-3. Excelsior!

9:46 PM Barstoolio: Ouch. Curtis Taylor just hit Percy Harvin like he was full of candy.

9:47 PM Holly: I will give Tebow this: He’s got the makings of a cham-peen hula hooper. Swivel those hips, cupcake….NO. SLOWLY.

9:48 PM J-Money: When Tebow sees man-to-man coverage, he thinks “scramble”. When Brady Quinn sees it, he thinks “snuggle”.

9:57 PM J-Money: I look forward to the day when Colt David’s parents tell him that he was actually named for the malt liquor. And when they ask that he not tell his brother Mad Dog.

9:59 PM J-Money: Is there ever a time when it’s not important to get points? I’m never sorrier to be a woman than I am when I see sideline reporters like her. Or when I see Bea Arthur.

10:01 PM Holly: Pssst….Trojans! Trooooojans…wake up, honey, it’s time to go to school. Yes! You’re on the teevee! I know, it IS exciting! You think maybe it’s time to play some foot-ball now? Won’t that be fun? Let’s find out! *twitch*

10:14 PM Holly: I know the answer, but I’d like to think I’m not the only one who sat through that “Go Gators” commercial waiting for an actual alligator to explode out of that reflecting pool and maul someone.

10:32 PM Holly: LSU fakes a field goal and skitters for a first down. And like the last time they ran this play, the casual viewer is left with the unshakable sense that Les Miles called this play entirely by accident.

10:33 PM J-Money: I like how all of the highlights involving LSU kicker Colt David show him doing things other than kicking the ball.

10:35 PM J-Money: Go away Sonic! I want a followup commercial where those two guys are so distracted by their Chili Fritos Steak Muffins that they pull out of the parking lot and directly into the path of an oncoming locomotive.

10:38 PM Holly: I have just been informed that USC is about to fall to Stanford, 24-23, after committing 5 turnovers in the second half. I don’t even have the strength to make a Lorax joke at the thought of this, but: Buckle your seatbelts, ducklings. Once EVERYONE loses, this whole carousel resets.

10:40 PM J-Money: That missed field goal is pretty important now, Colt. Don’t be surprised when you find you’ve been replaced by the leg lamp from A Christmas Story.

10: 41 PM Holly: Tim Tebow’s idea of trash talk is “PAPER TIGERS!” There’s no joke here. Just slipping that in the zeitgeist.

10:41 PM J-money: It’s like something out of Highlights. Gallant is always respectful to his opponent. Goofus calls them paper tigers.

10:42 PM Holly: I just saw…I don’t even know what I just saw in the LSU stands. I’m really sorry I invoked the Lorax. If you saw it, you know what I’m talking about.

10:53 PM J-Money: She means this:

10:56 PM Holly: Hey y’all, the server’s getting a little slow. We assume this is caused by the retrograde spinning of Earth on its axis caused by the actions of USC and UCLA, but in case things grind to a complete halt, thanks for a lovely Saturday.

11:06 PM Barstoolio: It’s like Patrick Nix is coaching the server!

11:07 PM Holly: For real. Clearly, site not hosted within speedy confines of SEC.

11:12 PM J-Money: Colt David is worthless. He’s what Adam Sandler used to sing about.
Holly: Turkey?
J-Money: No, the lonesome kicker. The song about the special shoe and someone slamming his face into a hibachi. But Turkey works too.

11:24 PM Holly: Les Miles is using his last timeout to challenge a play that had already been reviewed. Thanks, Les! There’s nothing left for me to add. it is pret-a-porter. You’re a giver.

11:25 PM Barstoolio: Somewhere, Hayley LaFontaine smiles widely.

11:26 PM Holly: …..there is no order. Nothing is certain. What a goddamn day.

11:28 PM Barstoolio: I’m not sure I’m tall enough to ride this day.

11:30 PM Holly: Charlie Weis beating Karl Dorrell Should Not Count. It’s the CFB equivalent of giving a first grader a gold star for showing up to class with both shoes on the right feet.

11:33 PM J-Money: LSU trails Florida by Colt David should be eaten by scorpions. Three. I mean three.

11:36 PM J-Money: Holliday was jammed so hard he is now Holliday (Observed).
Holly: *rimshot*
J-Money: I’m getting punchy. I know. I need Paul Shaffer here in my living room just encouraging me.
Holly: That was TERRIB(ly awesome).
J-Money: I know. I’m actually embarrassed it was so bad. Like finding an old notebook that says “I heart Scott Grimes”.

11:43 PM J-Money: Not only did LSU get a first down, they also kept Colt David off the field where, much like the potato famine, he can only cause sorrow and heartbreak.

11:44 PM J-Money: I like how the pronunciation of Perrilloux is now “Parallel”.
Holly: It’s degenerative. By OT it’ll be “Parasol.”
J-Money: Then “Paraffin”.

11:43 PM Holly: In between snipings, it bears pointing out that HOLY HELL this could get real dramatic real fast.

11:51 PM J-Money: There’s a horrible Hester-Flynn joke in there somewhere. That’s where I am. Nathaniel Hawthorne references.

11:53 PM Holly: ABC’s reporting that John David Booty broke the middle finger on his throwing hand in the first half. That whole clusterfuck is now infused with a tiny modicum of sense, but still… qu’est-ce que the hell c’est??

11:57 PM Holly: They finally cut in close to the faces of the Florida players on the bench, so I can tell that those are eye black strips with gator heads on them and not scarab beetles clinging to their cheekbones. While I’m grateful for the clarification, it was kinda cooler before.

11:59 PM J-Money: Five seconds until Colt David can go the rest of the week without worrying he’s going to wake up to find a severed leg in his bed…Success!

12:00 AM Holly: Well, girls?
J-Money: I don’t know if I’m flushed from excitement or from having my computer on my lap for 4 hours. Either way, it was a hell of a night.
Barstoolio: *throws up drunken shaky “U”*

LSU 28, Florida 24. Nebraska’s losing to Mizzou over on the WWL, but that’ll do it for us tonight. Quoth the Verne: “We’ll try to top this next week”, but I can’t see how.  Thanks to Swindle for the  keys to the castle, and to all y’all motherfuckers for keeping it lively and making us feel like the prettiest girls at the fair  realest bitches alive.  Sweet dreams, e’ybody.

3:30 PM Holly: The half-open eyes of a belligerently drunk nation turn now to Dallas and the Red River Shootout, to the Longhorns and the Land Thieves, but I only have eyes for Neyland. If the last week of football didn’t convince you that no one watching has a shred of a clue what’s going to happen tonight, turn back the clock to the last meeting of the Vols and Dawgs. Tennessee, down by ten at the half, scored thirty-seven points in two quarters to win 51-33, only the second team to hang more than fifty between the hedges. “Expect the unexpected” will be the rule. That, and “We’re giving up at least two punt returns for touchdowns.” Take it to the bank.

3:33 PM Holly: ohgod. ohnonono. Steve Beuerlein just pointed out that “Tennessee is always in the game with Erik Ainge at quarterback.” DO NOT TEMPT THE FOOTBALL GODS, BLAZER BOY. If Ainge goes down in this game I’m coming for your entrails.

3:44 PM Barstoolio: Oh, for fuck’s sake. Perhaps focusing on “finishing” over the last two weeks in practice could have included some “starting.” Miami’s 27-point second half wasn’t enough to overcome the flat first half and the loss of two starters to injury. Purdue and NC State, I trust that you understand the only thing that can salvage this day is the utter destruction of Tressel and Bowden, and should that not happen, I will burn your states to the ground. I want the ground spongy with their blood and their towns laid to waste. Time to drink the pain away.

3:46 PM Holly: TOUCHDOWN, ARIAN MOTHERFUCKING FOSTER. …and the glee is supplanted immediately by apprehension, because here comes our defense.

3:56 PM Holly: …and they appear to be both alert and here to play football. I know this isn’t how livebloggery works, but I’m a little hesitant to do anything but report the facts of this game and make fun of ugly Athens coeds in the stands, for fear of jinxing our chance at a conference win.

3:59 PM Holly: Whoa. Clicked over to Texas-OU to find John Chiles in at QB. Didn’t expect to see that this early.

4:01 PM Barstoolio: I am working with the options of NC State/FSU and Iowa/Penn State. Either way, the unmistakable odor of tapioca and mothballs is wafting from the television.

4:03 PM Holly: Arian Foster’s name means “water bearer” and “holder of knowledge”. Honey, you just hold on to the damn ball this week and leave the heavy thinking for Sundays.

4:04 PM Holly: …all right, that came out wrong. Arian, we love you. But you understand why were a little surprised to see you breaking tackles and with positive yards next to your name, right? Keep it up. You’re doing great. Text message from hetero lifemate at Neyland: “Arian, I only yell because THAT’S HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU.”

4:07 PM Holly: But as delightfully strange as that is, it can’t compare to seeing our defenders knocking down opposing players. That’s kinda like glancing around in traffic and glimpsing a duck driving a car.

4:09 PM Holly: Haven’t Texas and Oklahoma both suffered enough in the last seven days? What sins could they possibly have commmitted in the intervening week to deserve the dulcet tones of Paul Maguire?

4:13 PM Holly: Just a disgusting late hit on Colt McCoy. Lovely, Sooners. And here’s Maguire, trying to excuse it. McCoy follows up with a pretty pass to Sweed. Shake it off, kid.

4:15 PM Holly: LUCAS TAYLOR (not our QB) to Coker for a 56 yard TD. I take it back. Seeing trick plays from this team? THAT’S like watching a duck driving a car. If you need me for the next few minutes, I’ll be blowing kisses in the general direction of Coach Cutcliffe.

4:21 PM Barstoolio: Happy Valley has got to be the dumbest location name in college football. How do they even get excited? It’s like trying to get pumped to play in Skippy Kid Ridge or Rainbow Fun Hill.

4:22 PM Holly: WE JUST BLOCKED A PUNT. We are Tennessee. Tennessee does not block punts. I clapped a hand over my mouth to muffle my shriek with such force that I cut my lip. Holy hell, this could be something. (Yes, followed with 30 yards in penalties, just so we know it’s still the Vols playing.)

4:26 PM Holly: A Georgia defender just streaked straight through the line to Ainge with terrifying speed. Too bad he’d already completed a bullet train of a pass to Austin Rogers for the first down.

4:27 PM Barstoolio: Holy shit. FSU’s kicker is like a giant sandy redneck bear. He’s terrifying.

4:26 PM Holly: I can’t believe this. Touchdown Hardesty. Extra point up and good, and our new kicker’s on the longest perfect start streak of any UT kicker, ever. 21-0 Vols. It feels like time has sped up. This isn’t easy to articulate or to snark about, but…they’re playing like Tennessee, all of a sudden. These are the boys we know. Just in time for the balance of our conference schedule. (Still: Caution. Remember last year, and remember last week. This is far, far from over.)

4:31 PM Holly: LOLZ!!1 There’s a little corner window over on ABC with Bob Stoops talking in it, but the angle’s distorted and his head looks like a perfect trapezoid.

4:40 PM Holly: Ainge took the guard off his broken finger for today’s game, and he’s back, baby. 110 yards passing in a quarter and a half, the latest to freshman WR Moore for 45 yards. Over on ABC, Texas leapfrogs ahead, 14-7.

4:43 PM Holly: Aaaand…touchdown. Arian Foster, all is forgiven. 22 yards, not a finger laid on him. Time to start drinking and Photoshopping. HOLY SHIT MAN WALKS ON FUCKING MOON, y’all.

4:43 PM Holly: Hypothetically, while I’ve got to the place to myself, how many different ways would Swindle come up with to kill me if I embedded a Rocky Top mp3 in this post? Discuss.

5:01 PM Holly: Giggly stat from CBS: In the last four quarters of meeting, Tennessee has scored 65 points to Georgia’s nine. And that’ll take us to halftime. Was it good for you? Me, I need a cigarette.

5:07 PM Holly: All right, halftime. Let’s review.

• Texas hanging in with OU, 14-14 at the half.

• Alabama, up a suspiciousy slight 16 points on Houston in the 3rd.
• Iowa, down 13-0 to Penn State at halftime, which ain’t that bad considering their season to date–that defense is still doing its thing and doing it well.
• ‘Noles tied with NC State, 10-10.
• South Florida…tied 7-7 with Florida Atlantic?
• Michigan manages to scrape a win against mighty Eastern Michigan, 33-22.
• West Fuckin’ By-God Virginia juices Syracuse, 55-14.
• [TEAM REDACTED] over Wisconsin, 31-26.
• Kansas and PeteJayHawk over KState, 30-24.
• Auburn over Vandy, 35-7.
• Wake over Duke, 41-36.
• DaCoachO over La Tech, 24-0
• Maryland defeats Georgia Tech 28-26. The Turtle can’t help you, Chan Gailey.

….and in Knoxville, the Tennessee Volunteers lead the Georgia Bulldogs, 28-0 with two quarters to play.

5:20 PM Barstoolio: Howard Schnellenberger is old (Seriously, I was under the assumption he was interred under the Orange Bowl at midfield or something) but has managed live long enough to be tied with USF at the half. The rabid Bulls fans in Tampa are preparing torches. Hose down your children!

5:23 PM Holly: We’re back, and Ainge is promptly sacked. That’s rare for this line, but two things we need to not not NOT do right now: Get lazy, and try to stuff the ball up the middle on every play. Let’s finish this thing. (And I mean “finish” in the Mortal Kombat sense, boyos–I wanna see some spinal columns.)

5:28 PM Barstoolio: I wonder if anyone’s tried to go over Niagara Falls in Joe Pa’s chest?

5:32 PM Holly: Touchdown, Georgia, on what you have to call a beautiful catch by Goodman. He basically snatched it right out of Vinson’s face. Vinson landed funny on his wrist but hops up fast enough. 28-7. Over in Dallas, Nate Jones just made a nifty catch for the Lonhorns. McCoy follows up with a pass to a TE whose number I didn’t catch–shades of last season. They’re in the red zone and driving. Still 14-14.

5:39 Holly: Seeing is believing–we’re throwing the damn ball. And it’s working. Ainge is being allowed to run this thing his way, and it’s a credit to our coaching staff (I know!) that they’re going with what works rather than shoving Foster into the middle of the line every play.

5:46 Holly: Daddy calls from the game to confirm that yes, in fact, that was Tennessee that just went for it on fourth and short…and converted. The sky has turned to sackcloth.

5:51 PM Holly: Foster’s THIRD touchdown of the night, once again inducing apparent narcolepsy in the Georgia front seven the second the ball’s in his grasp. 37-7 Tennessee.

6:02 PM Holly: Georgia gets off a 66-yard punt. Impressive…problem is, that means they just gave it back to Erik Ainge.

6:10 PM Holly: Young John Chavis’ hair FTW!

6:11 PM Holly: Texas and OU are all tied up as the 4th quarter begins, 21-21. Someone in the metro Chicago area kindly find Texy and PB, shoot them full of adrenaline, and set them loose in the nearest bar.

6:16 PM Barstoolio: FSU/NC State on lightning delay gets me to Dallas just in time to see Colonel Mustard sideline reporting with a shaky cam. That was…disconcerting.

6:16 PM Holly: At least you didn’t get the motherfucker in the boater hat.

6:26 PM Holly: Meanwhile in Dallas: OU’s up 28-21, and Colt McCoy just got picked off…right as Stafford’s intercepted in the endzone by Marsalous Johnson. There’s an exTREMEly suspicious pass interference call, and Georgia moved up to the 2. Touchdown to a wide open Tripp Chandler, made all the more loathsome by virtue of being named Tripp Chandler.

6:32 PM Holly: Text from brother at Neyland: “Dear sociopath in black shirt: I’m sorry your team sucks. Please sit down.” If I know him, he’s sneaking up behind the guy to get a look at his cell so he can send this message to him personally. If this turns out to be the last post, I had to go take care of his bail.

6:40 PM Holly: Matthew Stafford, intercepted out of his own endzone. Fulmer’s covered in Gatorade and capering about in a manner more suited to a man a third of his size. ROCKY TOP, BABY.

6:51 PM Holly: Your final score: Tennessee 35, Georgia 14. Fuck and yes. Now, to sweat out the last two minutes of the Red River Shootout. Texas down by seven with two minutes to play.

6:56 PM Holly: Update from LSUJoshua: “We were walking down to see the band and Mike the Tiger and caught these two girls peeing on bushes. We asked them how it was going, and they said “Pissalicious”. ” Hey, like Georgia’s pass defense!

6:57 PM J-Money: I’m back! I just turned on the Clemson-Virginia Tech game in time to hear one of Clemson’s players being referred to as “lightly used”, which is the same way a friend of mine refers to his former wife. I’m not making either piece of that up.

6:58 PM Holly: It’s not gonna happen for the Longhorns, and that’s so painful. Trash prevails: OU 28, Texas 21.

7:05 PM J-Money:  I didn’t expect Duke to play like that… most of the time, their games would have exactly the same outcome if none of their players had any arms.  It was 34-9 in the middle of the 3rd quarter.  Final score? Wake 41, Duke 36.  I cursed at a woman wearing a bonnet.

7:07 PM Holly:   And that’s naptime…see y’all back for the night games thread in an hour or so.  GOVAWLS!!

Morning, boys. Holly (of Ladies, Snarkastic….yes, and this), The Great Barstoolio, and Ladies… Photoshopper nonpareil J-Money have the run of the sandbox this weekend. Between the three of us, we carry loyalties to Tennessee, Miami, West Fuckin’ Virginia, Wake Forest, South Florida, Texas, and USC. At time of publication, two of us are already drunk and one’s still in her underwear. Should be a hell of a hoedown.

10:30 AM Holly: Oh, Loo’vl. Loo’vl, Loo’vl, Loo’vl. I’m not here to suggest you had a shred of a season left after losing to Syracuse (SYRACUSE!), but you know what’s even sadder than losing to Utah at home? The fact that you found the moxie to mount an honest, valid attempt at a comeback and STILL couldn’t close the deal.

10:49 AM Holly: The only mildly interesting sign I can make out on GameDay so far starts “Dear KU” and contains the word “guacamole”, but I can’t make out the rest. Anyone?

10:53 AM Holly: Brady Quinn endorsement alert! Something called “Gillette Game Face”, promising “face time” with BQ in New York for winners of some contest (gillettegameface.com! Go!). Face time….holy hell, do we get to SHAVE him? He always struck me as a waxer.

11:02 AM Barstoolio: The only thing that could make Kansas State’s purple uniforms even more awesome: if Prince were their mascot and he was kept on a leash on the sideline.

11:03 AM Holly: Liiiittle Jordy Nelson! Baby, he’s much too fast. For Texas. *quiet weeping*

11:05 AM Holly: According to Jebus, the sign apparently reads “Dear KU, Please enjoy 45 guacamole pop shots courtesy of KSU. Love, Wade Boggs.” Well, THAT explains EVERYTHING.

11:21 AM Holly: The upcoming segment on Notre Dame is titled, “Is Today The Day?”, but is accompanied by clips of Jimmy Clausen throwing INTs and being chased by burly defenders, so I’m going with “No.”

11:27 AM Holly: Kirk would like you to know that “UCLA is for REAL” and that they have the athletic ability to make it to the bowl season with one loss. I’m a couple days behind in my RSS reader…they’re still coached by Karl Dorrell, right?

11:30 AM Barstoolio: I would like Kirk to know his eyebrows look like carpet remnants.

11:42 AM Holly: Huh. If the Gators “haven’t forgotten what they learned last season” in Jordan-Hare, what the hell were they doing again last week?

11:47 AM Holly: I’m a little disappointed in the GameDay crowd turnout and disposition, but I’m trusting that the first-string hooligans are still passed out in alleys and will be ready to roll by sunset.

11:52 AM Barstoolio: I’ve abandoned GameDay for The ACC Show. Is this what it feels like to wake up 45 and single?

11:53 AM Holly: Erin Andrews just….painted some guy’s nose orange in the student section. Too many jokes. Circuit overload.

11:55 AM Holly: Five minutes from West Fuckin’ Virginia kickoff… J-Money’s at the Wake Forest game, but she left us a present:

mmmm, breakfast.

12:00 PM Holly: Corso picks the Tigers. Well, Florida, you’ve got that going for you.

12:02 PM Holly: I just got off the phone with Orson, who would like to let y’all know that as of 11:00 AM Central time, he has been “called a faggot twice and told to fuck off in some fashion five times” on the LSU campus. Oh, bright college days.

12:06 PM Barstoolio: Miami has lost 5 of its last six road games. If you think I haven’t just done an exorcism dance to 2 Live Crew, you don’t know me at all.

12:14 PM Barstoolio: Touchdown, UNC. Is this an indictment of my dancing?

12:17 PM Holly: [NAME REDACTED]’s shirt has these orange flashes on the sleeves that make it look like he’s wearing floaties. My kingdom for a screencap, it’s that adorable.

12:22 PM Holly: Rashard Mendenhall just strolled 32 yards into Wisconsin’s endzone untouched. Everyone’s seen the Badgers eke out wins by the barest of margins all season, but that total lapse of defense so early in them.

12:34 PM Holly: ….of course, it will match their offensive woes nicely, as they proceed to their first missed field goal of the season. C’mon, Bieilelelma.

12:49 PM Barstoolio: The Hurricanes are UNC’s bitches at the end of the first quarter, down 13-0 and flailing about in a sea of powder blue. They have never beaten the Tar Heels in Chapel Hill. Commence the wailing and the gnashing of grills.

12:55 PM Holly: Great moment just now in Champaign: Arrelious Benn, freezing for a split second in a circle of about five Badgers, all of whom look honestly scared to get near him before he dives forward for an extra yard or so.

1:03 PM Barstoolio: I … this game is taking away my joviality, but I’m a soldier.

1:03 PM Holly: …of fortune.

1:07 PM Barstoolio: 20-0. This must be the Curse of The Rock.

1:07 PM Holly: I am totally comfortable blaming Miami’s play on The Scorpion King (the movie, not the actual Scorpion King, who totally exists and would show these Tar Heels what the fuck is what).

1:12 PM Holly: While I’m pulling for Wisconsin in this match, I’m really enjoying the Illini’s success because it enables me to type “Rashard Mendenhall” over and over again. Oh, and he just hit the endzone again. 17-0, Illinois.

1:24 PM Barstoolio: Interception UNC.

THEREISNOCRYINGINFOOTBALL THEREISNOCRYINGINFOOTBALL

1:27 PM Holly: I just caught the replay of that. There’s a shot of a Miami defender missing a tackle and falling on his facemask in such exaggerated fashion that I can’t believe it’s not a cartoon.

1:30 PM Barstoolio: You mock my pain! (Football is pain, highness.)

1:35 PM Holly: Swann being helped off the field. Chin up, Wisconsin, it’s not like he was the only one out there making pl…oh.

1:41 Barstoolio: Kyle Wright manages to squeeze in another INT before the half, enabling Miami to stay down by 27 points. Looks like we might see Kirby Freeman. I’ve begun cutting.

1:44 PM Holly: Halftime scores of interest (”interest” = “games I can’t see with shady Los Angeles cable”): Kansas-KState tied at 14…Maryland 21 GTech 3….Auburn 21 Vandy 0.

1:51 PM Holly: DROP WHATEVER YOU ARE DOING RIGHT NOW AND TURN TO ESPN THEY ARE RE-AIRING THE LOU HOLTZ PEP TALK WHERE HE DOES MAGIC TRICKS GO GO GO .

2:10 PM Holly: Touchdown Badgers! Nice of you to show up. Sleep well?

2:16 PM Holly: You know, I was disappointed to see that Notre Dame was scheduled for a night game. That early-morning cup of perfect Domer misery has made for a merry start to every Saturday this season…but a(nother!) Michigan choke job would be just as delicious. The Wolverines are currently clinging to a 23-14 lead over…Eastern Michigan.

2:25 PM Barstoolio: Sam Shields catches Miami’s second TD of the half in as many possessions (I think - I ran out at the half for more booze and a salad) as Miami finally realizes there’s a game going on. Never doubt the U, son - or the hellfire halftime stare of Randy Shannon.

2:34 PM Barstoolio: DARNELL JENKINS 97 YARDS THROW UP YOUR U!

2:34 PM Holly: That doesn’t mean “uterus”, right?

2:34 PM Barstoolio: I did that in the first half.

2:46 PM Barstoolio: So, I can’t watch USF (I’m IN. FLORIDA.), but I have the option of UW-Eau Claire vs UW-Whitewater. *blank look*

2:56 PM Holly: Northwestern and Michigan State are tied 27-27 in the 4th. The play-by-play announcer for one of these teams once sent me pictures of his calves in an effort to win my affections. I am absolutely not making this up.

3:15 PM Holly: Rapidly losing interest in Wisconsin’s demise by way of creeping dread re: Tennessee-Georgia. I fear the next post will not be half as coherent, spilling over with such entries as “CATCH THE GODDAMN BALL!!!!!111″, and for this I ask your forgiveness in advance.

3:19 PM Barstoolio: Meanwhile, in downtown Miami, the Orange Bowl begins to tear herself down early in shame.

3:21 Holly: Update from Baton Rouge: LSUJoshua has managed to fry two turkeys, killing neither himself nor any bystanders. Orson has racked up Three “FAGGOT!”s, Five “FUCK YEEEEW”s, and one “HEEEY GILLIGAN! THASSA TERRIBLE HAT, MAN!”. And that’ll about do it for this round. Afternoon thread up shortly; we’ll see you there.

It’s Hate week 3.0 on EDSBS, meaning that we play Tennessee on Saturday, and can’t sleep for the bloodrage we’re working up prior to the game. Join us and make INGSOC triumphant.

We give you chapter two of the Chairman’s manual with Reasons 1-25 Florida Rules and Tennessee Sucks Forever. Because they do, indeed, suck forever, sometimes as a football team, sometimes as a state, but most pleasingly to the Florida fan, when they suck together all at the same time in one sorrowful, audible slurp.

1. Tennessee is shaped like a parallelogram. Florida, however, is “America’s Wang.” And where would America be without its wang?

2. Florida great Steve Spurrier is a Volunteer State exile (Johnson City), meaning that the greatest coach ever born in Tennessee ran screaming from it the first chance he got, and never came back. There’s no humor there. It just really sucks for you, Vol fan, and makes us warm and happy inside.

3. Even after thirty years of government interdiction, Florida’s still putting the yayo on your glass coffee tables in piles, America. You’re welcome (sniff).

4. We gave you Creed in order to make you feel good about your own life in a fun way, as in “I’m not Scott Stapp, and that’s great, really.” Nashville gives you music to help you justify your sad, tobacco-stained penniless existence, prole…um, we mean ain’t it great scraping by on 22K with three kids in a place with terrible public schools! WOOOO!!! VOTE PAPPY FOR GUVNAH!!!

5. Our coach has won a championship in the 21st century. (more…)