This week’s update brought to you Brian, who as ever is hung like Reggie F’n Nelson. Clarifications, whining, and other bloggy-type questions await.

A slow week on the big board overall, presumably thanks to end-of-semester hecticness and a lack of spring-break style foolishness going on around the college world. We’d like to think this commanding lead in the Fulmer Cup standings means Missouri finally gets one shining moment all to itself. Unfortunately for them, Kansas fans have documented a number of shining moments in the history of Missouri athletics.

(HT: PeteJayhawk.)

If someone’s interested in putting this together for Florida State, we’d be thrilled kthxok?

We’re past the halfway point, meaning there’s good news: you’re more than halfway to next college football season. We’ll wait for you.

Okay, now that you’ve kicked the front out of your desk in excitement, deep breaths. We still have a long summer to go, meaning we’ll give odds on upcoming crimes we’ll undoubtedly see over the next four months in the Cup.

30/1: Arson. A coveted charge for the collector, and usually one started not in a pyromaniacal way, either, but rather with fireworks, alcohol, and a moment of weakness when you let the Imp of the Perverse grab the wheel and steer. Leading suspect: Auburn. Middle of nowhere, drought conditions, and plenty of nuke-powerful fireworks to be had. When you see the smoke and a pickup truck fleeing a burning forest, you’ll know what happened.

17/1: Counterfeiting. As long as Ryan Perrilloux is in this cup, this bet stays on the board. Leading prospect: LSU. Because it’s Louisiana. More said would be wasted words.

6/1: FnDC. The classic, and one we haven’t seen much of as yet. Fightin’ ‘n Da Club is a summer hit just waiting to happen, and when it does, the points rack up fast and furious. Leading suspects: Miami or Florida. If Miami gets involved in a fight in public, they will win nine games this season. If not, they win five.

3/1: DUI. The trusty CD in Fulmer Cup investments. Leading suspects: Tennessee. If the Vols claw their way back into the race, it will come by falling out of a car in full sight of a dashboard camera. We blame the state: we’ve never lived in a place where DUI was more commonly accepted as something that “just happened” when you were young, much like acne or wearing a regrettable button-down patterned shirt.

EDSBS Cheesecake Ambassador kleph contacted us this morning with three words: “Angie By-God Dickinson.” No arguing with the expert.

Much, much more of her after the jump (NSFWish). Happy leering; see y’all Monday.
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We’re off to Vegas to cover the first weekend of the tournament for The Sporting News, and it promises to be Con Air awesome, minus the Nicholas Cage Skynrd locks. Follow our descent into madness–and really, the aim is to destroy this gig and never, ever let anyone come close to our rapid mad post rate ever again–one of several ways.

The Sporting Blog. Not only does it have our interview with Ric Flair, but it will have our posts on what Vegas during the first weekend of March Madness looks, feels, smells, and feels like, including the part where we wind up drinking $2000/bottle cognac from goatskins with the sheikhs of Dubai at a live man versus panther death match in the hills of Nevada.

Step One, this. Step Two, fire up laptop. Step three: MASSIVE PROFITS.

Flickr. I’ll be posting photos live from the fracas, as well, so keep up by following here.

Twitter. For those too ADDled to even get through this blog post, we’ll be posting on the EDSBS Twitter feed muy rapido all day and most of the night.

Your guest host will be Oops Pow Surprise from Black Heart, Gold Pants , a demented gent who promises to not only provide the Curious Index, but an installment of “Things Black and Gold People Like,” the latest in our series of fan profiles. We will usurp the Iowa jokes by saying the only one we know for sure: meth.

Godspeed. And wish the same to us. If we fail to come back from this mission, know that we went to bat country happily.

Holly has very sad news for you. Be jacked and pumped, but only in the saddest of ways.

Server glitch? Price of fame? Low-level NCAA violation potential? Who knows, but one way or another Pete Carroll’s Facebook profile is no more. And while it brought us all incalculable joy to tread just a little closer to his radiance, I have to say—as a mortal being of woman born, having to look at his status updates every morning was forcing me to examine my life in ways I’m not sure I was ready for.

February 22:

February 25:

March 1:

March 8:

March 13:

I’ll miss you, sir. But my self-worth is drinking to your departure.

[HT: The Great Barstoolio, who screencapped my face ten times.]

Play the theme song, of course.

MP3 File

Nebraska junior linebacker Nick Covey received a ticket for underage possession of alcohol at a scene recognizable to anyone who’s ever hosted an open party one expects say, oh, thirty people to show up for:

Officer Katie Flood said when police arrived to that party, the music could be heard from the sidewalk and more than 75 people were inside. Empty beer cans littered the home.

Ah, yes. Covey receives one point, added to the Huskers’ tally in the Fulmer Cup. The only other player involved in the incident that we know who isn’t already draft-entered and leaving Nebraska is Mike Smith, who received the finest charge we’ve seen in a while:

Smith was accused of maintaining a disorderly house, and Purify and Martin of being inmates of a disorderly house.

We’ve been looking for some way to describe our view of existence for a long time. O, the irony of finding the right words at last writ in the prosaic civil codes of Nebraska! Oh, and two more points for Nebraska.

My, that got out of hand quickly. And where did the boat come from?

By the EDSBS staff.

We care, just like a tiger does: with their claws and teeth first.

Tennessee has a minor, eeny-tiny-bit of a discipline problem, and not the sort that professional paste-eater and push-door puller Mike Freeman suggests should end up in the firing of Phil Fulmer. (Mike: Tyler Durden IS the narrator!) Fire him for being only good to excellent, sure; we’ve seen that in the SEC before. Fire him for blackmailing Trace Adkins with incriminating gay sex photos into performing at his daughter’s birthday party. (Unsee that, dear reader, and you have achieved enlightenment. We just typed it, and will not eat for several days.) Fire him for picking up field mice and bopping them on the head, and then dipping them in panko crumbs, deep frying them, and eating them during film sessions.

Fire him for any of these, but not the juvenile aborted Liverventures™* most Vol players get arrested for these days. The Vols just need a special blend of caring, discipline, and caring discipline outlined below. Because we care. We really do. In that kind of foster kid kind of care, the one where you don’t buy them fresh produce, turn on the heat for them in the winter, or buy them clothes that fit.

Actin’ Straight with EDSBS: Vol-arity Edition.

1: Pat Summitt. This doesn’t even have to take longer than 15 minutes. Simply invite Pat over, have the winningest coach at Tennessee ever come to a Vol team meeting and then allow her to rip each of the Vols’ gridiron types a new, perfectly torn second asshole. Summitt is the kind of thin-lipped, wiry, kerosene-eyed women who drove schoolbuses in my childhood: very, very quiet schoolbuses. There were rumors one kid, once, had spoken, and that only a red mark the birds liked to pick at on the school driveway stood as testament to her wrath. The team would be a lot like that schoolbus for the next year, at least.

2. Hedge mazes outside dorm entrances. Bull your way through fifteen rows of thorny hedge without bleeding to death? Do I smell starting defense?

3. The ChastiT belt. Fierce, made of stainless steel. Adorned with picture of John Chavis on codpiece for extra contraceptive power. (more…)

Today is Repeal Day! Hip Hip, Hooray!

On this day in 1933 prohibition was officially repealed when Utah, of all states, signed on to the 21st Amendment, paving the way for nearly a century of great tailgating. I’ll drink to that.

Courtesy of Bruins Nation: OMG UCLA SQUEAK SQUEAK SQUEAK SQUEAK SQUEAK SQUEAK YAH SQUEAK USC SQUEAK FUCK SQUEAK SQUEAK USC SQUEAK SQUEAK UCLA!

We honestly did not understand a word these ladies just said besides UCLA, USC, and the word “fuck.” They pointed to their asses a lot, too, meaning that foreigners viewing this video would naturally assume that these were a group of retarded cult members participating in some kind of ritual centering on laxatives, purity, and banishing bad spirits clad in blue and yellow, personified by the tall male at the end of the clip.

I am harboring a wicked girl-crush on Katee Sackhoff. She plays this cigar-chomping, firewater-swilling, foul-mouthed, enticingly damaged badass (like Tim Riggins, only a hot girl), and she does it on the best show on television (it has killer robots in space; do not argue this point), along with your most recent Mustache Wednesday honoree. There is nothing not to love. More proof after the jump.

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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.)

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.)

Nostalgia is for suckers. That’s why we can’t fucking stand baseball, loaded as it is with all kinds of pisspanted WAAAHHHH moaning for bygone youth and the past. Oh, for the days of segregation and untreatable bacterial infections. Oh, the luminosity of those halcyon days!

To hell with that. We think most people, dropped even a mere twenty years in the past, would take a flamethrower to their surroundings. Where’s the coffee? Wireless internet? Women not wearing pants hiked up to their tits with booming, hairspray-reeking hair? You’d hate it and this is not a lie.

Look no further than the Buckeye Babes video MichiganZone dug up. They’ve got the backstory. We figured we’d just throw this bag of flaming crap on your porch and see what you did with it. Again: the past sucks in every way imaginable, especially 1987.

(Except for the cheap coke. That must have been nice.)

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.