KIFFIN jogs down a wooded Tennessee lane in the morning mist.

Kiffin: I got that boom boom wow/ tan checks and plaid turnstiles/ I’m coaching them up wow/ boom boom boom boom boom how…boom boom BOOOOOOOM…

KIFFIN notices he is lost.

Kiffin: Uh-oh. This looks as unfamiliar to me as

A bright light explodes from the sky above him. A charismatic man with flowing hair appears above him. The smell of Stetson cologne and cigarettes is overpowering and intoxicating.

Kiffin: The ghost of Road House Patrick Swayze!

Ghost of Road House Patrick Swayze: Hello, Lane Kiffin. You have journeyed far today to a magical place beyond your understanding.

Kiffin: But there’s a Stuckey’s right behind us.

Ghost of Road House Patrick Swayze: Those pecan logs are as far from you now as the moons of Uranus.

Kiffin: [giggles]

Ghost of Road House Patrick Swayze: [sighs, shakes head.] You must now come to the place you have been chosen to see. It is a magical place, filled with enchantment, mystery, and music.

Kiffin: Ooh, Branson!

Ghost of Road House Patrick Swayze: No, Lane. I present to you the magical village of…PRIG-A-DOON!!!

Kiffin: Wait…how’d I get this skirt on? And why am I dancing? Are we undefeated?

Ghost of Road House Patrick Swayze: Yes, you are. You beat UCLA last week. Tennessee is undefeated. You’re going in at even money against Florida. You just got a particularly talented fifth grader with sweet dodgeball skills to commit seven years ahead of time. Ed Orgeron doesn’t urinate on your desk to mark his territory every morning. In short, Lane Kiffin, life is perfect here in Prig-a-doon, all the time, every day.

Kiffin: So I can act like a total clueless dick, and it will still work no matter what I do?

Ghost of Road House Patrick Swayze: Yes, Lane. In Prig-a-doon, everything you do works.

Kiffin: Hey, high school coach? Gimme your recruits, you backwater dickneck who doesn’t understand my impressive credentials?

High school coach with coveted recruits: Sure! I’ll throw in my wife for free!

Kiffin: Dad, wake up! Tell me I got here on my own merits!

Monte Kiffin: [/stirs from nap] Failing with the Raiders is like succeeding as a retirement home pickpocket, son. Either way you’re robbing a sick old man for money. Oh, and you deserve everything you have, and your relentless networking and family connections had nothing to do with your otherwise inexplicable rise to becoming the head coach of a major program. [/falls back asleep]

Kiffin: Ed, get me a cup of coffee!

Ed Orgeron: PUTTA DA CREMEINDERE JUSSALIKEA YOULIKEIT. WIFFATWOSPLENDAFORMAHBOSS!!!

Kiffin: Wow, Ghost of Road House Patrick Swayze! Everything IS perfect in Prig-a-doon! What about Jonathan Crompton? Is that him over there playing horseshoes?

Jonathan Crompton, dressed in barmaid’s outfit with lace up bustier and wig: Hey, coach! Watch!

Crompton winds up and throws three horseshoes in succession hitting a small girl in the face, breaking a window twenty feet to the right, and fumblng the last out of his hand before completing his throw.

Ghost of Road House Patrick Swayze: There are some things not even the most fantastic fantasy can fix, Lane.

Kiffin: That’s okay. Say, when can I come back here?

Ghost of Road House Patrick Swayze: Everytime you win a game, Lane Kiffin, the magical village of Prig-a-doon will appear in the woods behind this Stuckey’s. Then you may enter and feast and dance to your heart’s content.

Kiffin: Wow, so I can come here every weekend, then!

Ghost of Road House Patrick Swayze: We have you scheduled for four visits this year not counting the Ohio game, and most definitely not after this weekend. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to ramble on, Lane Kiffin.

Kiffin: Hey, Ghost of Road House Patrick Swayze, pain don’t hurt, right? Unless it’s the pain of having multiple inoperable tumors, right?

Ghost of Road House Patrick Swayze: You’re gonna have to leave now.

Lane: But I’m having a good time!

Ghost of Road House Patrick Swayze: You’re too stupid to have a good time.

GHOST OF ROAD HOUSE PATRICK SWAYZE roundhouse kicks LANE KIFFIN into Stuckey’s parking lot and out of Prig-a-doon.

FIN

Praise be to Allah and his only prophet Mohammed, and Go Gators. Madame, please cover your hair and go behind that screen. You are making me nervous with your chin and visible mouth. My religion does not approve.

Praise be to Allah that he has seen to give me so many talented teammates, the blocking to keep out infidel pass rushers, and my brother, Brandon Spikes, who crushes those who would oppose our jihad by even considering running up the middle. To Allah all praise is due.

The sword shall fall on Charleston Southern tomorrow. They stand in the way of our holy war against all that is evil in college football. May God mete out the punishment that is due to them, and let their blood water the grass of Florida Field so that its brilliant green may shine into the next week and forever.

We shall take their complex blitz packages seriously, or at least as seriously as you have to take a team that placed third in the Big South Conference last year.

They shall be destroyed, inshallah, before the second quarter’s close. Then I shall sit on the bench and wear a headset while jumping up and down enthusiastically. Let Allah be praised, and let us wreak fiery destruction upon the enemy unto our caliph Meyer’s satisfaction.

Praise to all Albert’s creation, and may God Bless You all, except the infidels here, who shall die in a fiery apocalypse of their own making. Apologies. That’s not really negotiable here.

Rich Rodriguez have press conference, make emotional statement, water get fall from eye.

Michigan football Rich Rodriguez appeared tear up as he talked about his program during his weekly news conference in Ann Arbor.

He sad. Say they follow rules. Not make player tow bus or work too hard. Go against everything RichRod teach and say. Rich Rod then discuss Western Michigan. Why you make Rich Rod sad, Freep? He appeared tear up! You feel shame Freepy. Man not made of stone. He made from man!

(Also, we have no video of the press conference yet, so the footage from Michigan’s practices will have to do.)

This is how you get Switzeriguez and Barwis running from rooftop to rooftop on campus, dodging huge, man-eating mutant worms Barwis shoots with an elephant gun. Also starring Reba McEntire, Michael Gross, and Lloyd Carr as “Grizzled Man with Golf Club Eaten in Opening Scene.” (HT: Keo)

Just watch Texas A&M’s synchronized beachball team and tell us you don’t think Tim Brando’s full of shit. Dancing like that comes from the heart, and this team clearly has it if that curtsying showmanship is to be believed.

When does it get transcendent? Probably at the first really well-executed curtsy, but if that didn’t do it for you, this moment should have done the trick.

(HT: Dave.) It’s talented, but Les Miles thinks you should try handling two balls that size all the time, and then get back to him about pulling neat tricks with ‘em.

Perhaps still miffed at being upstaged on GameDay by Puddles, the Harley-riding, ass-kicking mascot who works offseasons in full regalia as a Northwestern smokejumper, Kirk Herbstreit allegedly said this on College Football Live regarding the Oregon football program on Wednesday.

“Ducks are the college football version of Paris Hilton…they’re famous for no reason, they look pretty and they got a rich daddy.”

That’s a big alleged, since it comes off a “hey I heard that on College Football Live” bit no one has captured, and a nice orange man from Ohio really wouldn’t say that, would he? It is also inaccuarate. Oregon is 42-25 in the Pac-10 in this millennium, good for second in the Pac-10and has only been caught performing oral sex on tape once during the 2006 Las Vegas bowl in a humilating 38-8 loss to BYU. Oral may be moral, but not in a brutal, extramarital case like this, even if it was in Las Vegas.

Erk Russell is going to crawl his ass out from the grave and kick the frilly panties off of whomever thought this up. Seriously: start. Running. Now. If he’s inbound from Columbus where he’s buried, you have a day or two before he gets to Athens and starts beating your asses into fine pulps.

PS. We have Gatorade, and it has what plants crave. WIN.

Palin/Holtz ‘12: In your heart, you know it’d be hilarious.

What kind of a representative/VP would Sweet Lou be? Well, we already know he’d be a big fat no on the Kyoto Protocols. If his continuing close relationship with Notre Dame is any indication, we can also assume he’d swing solidly to the right on all the hot-button social issues — abortion, euthanasia, the right of Michigan and Ohio State fans to intermarry, that sort of thing. As far as clues from his actual coaching career, we can assume he’d be dedicated to building a strong national defense, but that he’d also follow a fairly strict non-interventionist policy (unless you can find any evidence that his South Carolina teams mounted any offense whatsoever). As far as we’re concerned, the wild card here is health care: If he’s going to run as a Republican, the obvious assumption is that he’s against Obama’s health-care proposal, but you have take into account his unclear stance on drug benefits and his casual distribution of advice (as a “Doctor” on ESPN) that was, at best, quasi-solicited — there’s a possibility he’d be down for a lot more government involvement there than the GOP would like. (All together now: MAVERICK!)

As for potential appointments or staff members, it’s probably early to be speculating on those as well, but one name seems like a pretty safe bet: Beano Cook as assistant for national security affairs, the Scooter Libby to Lou’s Dick Cheney? Yeah, you laugh now. Just see if he doesn’t.

(Hat tip/blame: Senator Blutarsky, gouging out his eyes as we speak.)

Good Idea: Their motto sucks, and Tree remains the kind of mascot you can have if your average attendee as a university is so wealthy the very act of having a mascot is an Illuminati thumbnose at the poor proles from other universities who will spend their lives bleeding money into Stanford graduates’ cash traps. Did we say Illuminati? We apologize. There is no such thing, you didn’t read that, and we’ll go type the rest of this from a constantly moving RV until things die down a little bit around here.

A good idea is expecting Stanford to take chunks out of several asses this year. Toby Gerhart at running back leads a rushing account consistently in the black last year (200 yards per game) and capable of protecting their still less-than-impressive passing game. (Harbaugh sees improvement, but of course he does, because he’s a football coach not named Urban Meyer. “I’d like to murder our running backs with blunt objects, frankly.” Thanks, Urban!)

They also get a ton of home games (five,) have a dynamic young coach in Harbaugh, and play the round-robin schedule, meaning they’re bound to catch one or two of the Pac-10’s flagship programs with their pants down, and then it’s ass-bitin’ time for college football’s most arrested mascot. Oddball things happen at the end of seasons, and Stanford plays USC, Cal, and Notre Dame in a three game streak at the end of the 2009 season. Watch your ass: those teeth are real.

Bad idea: Rule one of Fart Club: don’t talk about Fart Club. Rule two: wear a hat. Rule three: the guy who doesn’t wear a hat has to play ballwasher in a game called “The Pearly Slazenger.” Rule Four: You don’t want to be the ballwasher in a game of The Pearly Slazenger.

Good idea: The quest for a 60% passer at Illinois ends with Juice Williams finally becoming a 3/5 completions artist thanks to Mike Schultz, the TCU OC whose work with qbs always seemed to yield something around the 60% mark. A quarterback’s completion percentage is as much a product of the system he plays in as his own innate accuracy, as any Clemson fan who watched Rod Spence’s Short ‘n Stabby attack crank out high-percentage passers with regularity.
Whatever the new guy does, Williams should get the ball to Arrelious Benn even more than the 1000+ yard receiver got it last year. With Williams still likely to be used as a run threat out of the shotgun and from spread sets, the numbers guarantee some one on ones, matchups the saguaro-tall Benn will win far more than he loses. (Especially in a conference with some, um…maturing corners and without a top 20 passing defense in 2008.)

Bad idea: Ted would regret experimenting with wearing Axe Body Spray’s new “Chum” scent.

32-7 as a starter, an all-upperclassmen offensive line, a running back named “Foswhitt,” and a wonderful ass: Colt McCoy (not real name) may be hiding from his past as a young pit fighter in Asian underground circuits under an assumed name, but his early life ninja training has him running the Texas offense as a fifth-year senior with Big 12 and national title shots. He may also be eligible for the StiffArmTrophy, if you care about those things, if the running game can pick up and if Sergio Kindle can focus on nearly killing opponents and not apartment walls. Hey did you know Jordan Shipley is his roommate HUH HUH REPEATED ANNOUNCING FACTOID YOU’LL GET SO TIRED OF YOU’LL THROW KNIVES AT THE SCREEN.

Bad Idea: They paused in the meadow. The air was cold, and the sun was obscured by a thick, rolling blanket of clouds. Schmitt and Franken lay on the ground and posed. They exchanged cigarettes warily. Both knew the traitor was in their midst, taking them in the night, leaving nothing but a pair of bloody boots to mark the spot where their comrade once stood. If only they had a way, some way, any way to spot the saboteur. The camera clicked. The moment was recorded. The fear…remained.

“From one active recruiter of 13 year olds to another, we thank Coach Kiffin for his moving tribute to Michael’s work with youth,” read the statement. “We certainly appreciate it in this trying and difficult time, especially from someone so busy. Sincerely, the Jacksons.”

Kiffin could not be reached for comment, as he currently has his arm caught in a snack machine on the Tennessee campus.

Click the picture above to see what riders meant when they were complaining about safety issues at this years Giro d’Italia (besides a course including numerous opportunities to fall into ravines.) If Texas fans were only this enthusiastic in the stands, DKR would be a viper’s nest for opposing teams. (Michigan fans aren’t the only ones who suffer from Downinfrontitis, and this comes directly from Texas fans.)

Also: South Carolina, what’s up! [/idiocracy'd]

Hey, folks. I’m Vince Young, and I want you to eat my meat! Vince Young Foods announces its custom line of meat products, a product line guaranteed to give you the most emotional mouthful of meat you’ve ever had!

From our tasty Bawling Brisket, to our succulent Ribs of Regret, to our delectable Suffering Sausage, I, Vince Young, guarantee you won’t have a more temperamental or unpredictable dining experience than my custom line of meat. Put it in the freezer for up to four years to enjoy the erratic flavor, but after that? Who knows what you’ll get? THAT’S PART OF THE FUN.

As for health?

That numbness and tingling you’re feeling on left side? That’s the sadness and confusion getting into your veins! TASTE VINCE YOUNG’S MEAT AND YOU TASTE HIS SORROW PEOPLE! And it’s the tastiest sorrow in all ah Texas.

(Vince Young Meats, the best college football meats ever, are available in Texas only, and tend to spoil when shipped elsewhere. ORDER NOW.)

Custom football painting for poor college kid
posted 5/15/2009 , expires 6/5/2009
I love Iowa football…thus why not have a fabulous painting of the team. Simple eh? I would like an action shot on a big canvas.
Materials:
Tags: college, iowa, football, iowa city, poor, student
Ideal price: $45.00
Deadline: Aug 30, 2009
Quantity: 1
Ship To: Iowa City, IA 52242
United States

$45.00 will not get you half of a Daniel Moore painting, and we’re not even talking about the clearance ones like “Dennis Franchione: Leading with Pride” or “Mike Shula Spilling Hot Coffee on His Lap While Driving With the Scowling, Disdainful Ghost of Bear Bryant In the Passenger’s Seat.” However, it will get you this Oops Pow Surprise MS Paint Original, Ms. “BamBamra.” The image below is a preview, and can be next day air shipped to you as a painstakingly reproduced digital image on only the finest stock copier paper stolen from the offices of his employer. (Click for big.)

Yes: for just $45 internet sensation and MS Paint master Oops Pow Surprise will send you a custom print of this
important moment in Iowa football history! Contact him at Black Heart, Gold Pants in the next ten minutes, and he’ll throw in a free drive-by punching from a member of the Iowa football team and an autographed and certified authentic Robert Gallery scrunchie at no charge. OPERATORS ARE STANDING BY.

Borfdern: Say, Glomacher: fair weather we’re having here.

Glomacher: Boldfern, there’s nothing fair about it. It’s cheating to live this well!

Borfdern: Like your wife!

Glomacher: The Spanish Curse. I’ll never live it down!

Chuckles throughout audience of gentlemen and ladies out on the town for the night.

Borfdern: Did you see young Pete Carroll wearing a girdle the other day?

Glomacher: No! Was it because he was feeling Corp-ulent?

Titters.

Glomacher: Boldfern, do you fancy Cox of Georgia at quarterback?

Boldfern: I’d rather have the whole man, frankly!

Glomacher: So would your wife!

Guffaws.

Boldfern: Untrue! She’s mostly interested in the marital baton, Glomacher. Say, did you see the comments regarding Nick Sheridan at Michigan, Glomacher?

Glomacher: Yes. Seems like more of a threet than a prediction, my good man!

HUZZAHs.

Boldfern: Say, Glomacher. Did you see the story about the five star recruits who were arrested?

Glomacher: I heard they charged with a constellation of felonies, Bolfdern!

Boldfern: A stellar answer, Glomacher!

Glomacher: Perilloux-sly accurate!

Boldfern: Say, Glomacher, what’s worse: Auburn’s quarterback situation or your addiction to arson?

Glomacher: Both involve troubling Burns!

Applause.

Glomacher: And the sweet screams of the innocent.

Boldfern: Ha! My Dutch jewish tailor told me to put my money on Penn State. What say you to that?

Glomacher: That at the end of the season, his bookie will be Paterno’wed a king’s ransom for such a bet!

Groans.

Glomacher: They’ve turned on us! Quickly now, before they get out the rail and feathers!

Boldfern: Quickly! To the one-liners! What’s black on the bottom, white on the top, and deep in the red?

Glomacher: A zebra crushed in an hydraulic press!

Boldfern: No! Jesus smoking Popes, what the fuck is wrong with you? Regains composure. College football, Glomacher! Next: What do college football and the city of Atlanta have in common?

Glomacher: Both could be burned by Sherman! My turn: Lane Kiffin!

Boldfern: That’s not a joke.

Glomacher: ‘Tis!

Boldfern! HA!

STANDING OVATION.