The official EDSBS policy on this is that Ms. Andrews has been wronged grievously, and that the person behind this should be bankrupted not just for their invasion of her privacy, but also for their intrusion on the privacy of others. From what we understand, this was a completely random act, and in an alternate universe could have been you or us standing there getting our goods pasted all over the internet for profit. That her celebrity has exacerbated the initial violation is an even sadder occurrence, and far exceeds the reasonable cost of fame in its severity.

With that said, we feel we need to publish what we have in the name of full disclosure. New information has come to light, and we cannot sit on it any longer. We did not film this, nor do we intend to sell it. We do not claim it is in fact anyone in particular, and will not comment on any resemblances other than to say this: we have made this SFW, and that if this is who we think it is, then this could very well be the media scandal of the century.

You have been warned.

A thousand cocktails to Freek, and to the person who invented the concept of the jump on an internet post. You really have made some of our lives so much easier through your foresight and clever coding.

The new arrangements for the fall:

Matt Millen’s Inexplicable Employment Continues. What Matt Millen has to offer to college football that Chris Spielman doesn’t is clear: the stigma of reeking, carrion-strong failure from being the worst GM in the history of the NFL. If the stench is real, his new broadcast partners Sean McDonough will have to wear a gas mask. This would probably be just as good as most in-game commentary, now that we think about it. Holly Rowe moves over from ESPN to join them for ABC Saturdays, and it will probably be a bit blander overall than the Spielman/McDonough combo since Millen’s not likely to say anything as cool as “hunt, dog, hunt!”

Spielman moves to work with Dave Pasch and Bob Griese, and they’ll be working the noon game on ESPN.

The Champagne Crew: Nessler, Blackledge, and Andrews keep the ESPN Saturday Prime Time slot, a.k.a. The Ron Franklin Suite. Musberger, Herbstreit, and Salters on Saturday’s Blue-Ribbon game stay strong, as well.

Caucasian Menudo: The trio of James, Fowler, and Palmer remain together, who for our buck were the most gregarious, entertaining, freewheeling, and surprising crew last year in how much fun they had in the booth together.

Palmer gets additional face time as an in-studio analyst on Saturdays, thus expanding the Gator Nation’s reach into even our most hallowed halls of power like College Football Live. The Jort Illuminati grows in power; we approve. Andrews remains with them, and should really just start brandishing a combat shotgun everywhere she goes.

James will also see a shuffle as he joins Mike Patrick and Heather Cox for Saturday broadcasts on ESPN. Thus ends Patrick’s endless bellyaching over Blackledge’s immortal rabbit metabolism during “Todd’s Taste of the Town,” and begins the ascendency of Cox in the rankings of “soon-to-be-ruthlessly-stalked.” Buy options now.

Most importantly: DAVE LIVES. One of them, anyway. The new agreement effectively turning Jefferson Pilot/Lincoln Financial/Nigerian Space Program Television into ESPN Regional brings along one Dave, Dave Neal, who was forced to fight the other Daves to the death with the broken end of a pool cue by Norby Williamson dressed as the Joker. Neal emerged, bloodied and wild-eyed, and could be visibly shaken as he works with Andre Ware and Cara Capuano on the regionals.

This requires revision: The reverse negative of Ole Miss fan Shepherd Smith–Brock Huard–will proved commentary for the new Saturday night SEC game on ESPNU along with Eric Collins. Ron White belongs in this booth as a third banana, and be promises he’ll keep his Scotch off-camera.

On-Screen options: Press Y for team celebration/Go join the mascot to celebrate!/Press B to stalk sideline reporter.

Erin Andrews will join the cast of NCAA ‘10 for this year’s edition of the game that effectively spelled the end of our personal growth and development as a human several years ago. (Let’s be frank: it was scheduled for cancellation anyway.) She will do the sideline work in the game, and will be featured in a major mode in the game.

What that mode will be is unspecified, but if you’re thinking something along the lines of “Boonga Boonga,” you’re a terrible, sick person who needs some sunlight. You also will not be able to grind up behind her like Rey Maualuga did, though if you could in the game, an extra real bonus would be Rey vomiting up a six pack on her shoulder in celebration. [/superparanoiddraftguys!]

And now for the requisite page-whoring of typing Erin Andrews’ name twelve times in a row:

ERIN ANDREWS ERIN ANDREWS ERIN ANDREWS ERIN ANDREWS ERIN ANDREWS ERIN ANDREWS ERIN ANDREWS ERIN ANDREWS ERIN ANDREWS ERIN ANDREWS ERIN ANDREWS ERIN ANDREWS .

It’s been three months since Todd McShay and I updated our mock drafts. It’s time to shake them up a little bit and review our first three rounds.

Detroit Lions, Number One.

Winston Churchill, Great Britain. A true malevolent madman in the making. Comes from good genocidal madman stock, and a program–Cambridge–that knows how to develop and train that stock. Thick. Mean when he has to be. Superb skill set. Like all good genocidal madmen, prefers to wear suits.

St. Louis Rams, Number Two: Teddy Roosevelt. Another slam-dunk pick in the making. A hunter, not a gatherer. Killer instinct. Eyesight may be weak, but so is a rhino’s. They kill things all the time.

Kansas City Chiefs, Number Three: Joseph Stalin. I’m not sold on him: he lacks killer instinct, and thanks to his associations with the clergy may have too much mercy in him for the job. Poor communication skills with teammates. No cult of personality skills. I call bust, but he’s going here.

4. Seattle Seahawks. Woody Hayes. Has the rage you need for the position. Likes titles and uniforms. Dedicated to the powerful kind of ground game you need to go yard by yard in exterminating millions of lives for no reason. Born in Ohio and raised there, so already filled with the urge to murder. A sleeper pick that could yield big dividends for the Seahawks.

5. Cleveland Browns. Pol Pot. A baffling pick here. He’s the ultimate tweener. No idea where his skill set puts him. Another disastrous Browns pick, since he’s more of a third-rounder. Who ever heard of a French tech school grad doing big things?

6. Cincinnati Bengals. King Leopold of Belgium. A bit too old for this high a pick. Has a reputation as a prima donna. Is from Belgium.

7. Oakland Raiders. A scary-looking Dogue du Bordeaux Al found in an email from one of his grandchildren.

I’m not going to talk about the Raiders’ picks in the draft. I have no idea what Al Davis is doing. I do like the dog’s strinth, agility, and toughness, though. Maybe we’ll all be surprised, but I don’t think so.

8. Jacksonville Jaguars. Andre Smith, Alabama. Another sleeper pick. Clearly shows the poor decision-making and gluttony for a real genocidal monster, but the lack of obvious killer instinct shows. They’re clearly hoping he grows into the role and becomes a heart-eating Idi Amin type. A project pick by the Jags. I don’t like project picks at the eight spot.

9. Green Bay Packers. Brett Favre. An unconventional pick? Sure. But he’s got the demonstrated ability to hold thousands of people hostage with dictatorial flair. Also, has a reputation as a gunslinger who doesn’t care who he hurts with his wild ways. This is a must for he position. An innovative pick sure to click for Green Bay.

10. San Francisco 49ers. Adolf Hitler. Undersized. Definite physical issues. Good durability, and has anger issues. Has focus issues, though–is he going to be a genocidal madman, or an artist? Not one of the stronger picks in the draft, in my opinion. The 49ers would have been better off taking a player for a need position, like Jimmy Carter or Francisco Franco. They both make more sense here.

“Clever girl.”

Former Alabama lineman Andre Smith is not currently floating off the Straits of Hormuz as previously reported in Monday’s Curious Index. Smith is in fact feeding several hundred miles south of the Solomon Islands, and is neither blocking commercial shipping lanes nor infringing on any fishing grounds. Sailors are warned to steer clear of the waste release valve on his stern. Capsizing may be a danger for smaller vessels.

We regret the error.

To boost his draft standings following Wednesday’s Pro Day at Alabama, quarterback John Parker Wilson will release his own self-produced aerobics tape, but it will be titled the “Bama Bangs Blaster Workout”, not the “Toss Your Way To Shapelier Hips And Thighs With John Parker Wilson Workout” reported previously. We regret the error.

On Thursday, our interview with Ron Franklin alarmed some when a photo of Franklin on the sidelines of the 2000 Georgia/Auburn game appeared to show him urinating on the sidelines with his penis exposed for all to see. Franklin’s representatives called to clarify that Franklin was not urinating, and as a professional would never show disrespect for his hosts like that. Franklin suffers from the medical condition known as penile claustrophobia, however, and frequently has to ventilate his member in order to provide relief from the condition. Other notable celebrity sufferers have included Charles Haley, Terri Hatcher, the Reverend Charles Hagee, and Andy Richter.

As penance, this post is brought to you by the only drug on the market to help men face the demons of penile claustrophobia, Enclosium. Enclosium: because good fences make good neighbors.

We regret the error.

Contrary to information from Florida’s press office used in our “Better Know An SEC Lineman’s Religion”, the Koran does not promise 72 virgins in heaven to any player making a solo tackle. Urban Meyer makes this promise himself, and is said to select the virgins personally. We regret the error.

In Wednesday’s “Taigatin’ With O,” the koala fricassee recipe has been deleted, as koala is both a protected species per the CITES international compact, and is in fact too lean a meat for in the recipe. (In addition to this, those little bastards aren’t an easy slaughter. It’s like wrestling with a teddy bear made of switchblades.) Substitute braised condor or fatty aged panda in a pinch. We regret the error.

Thursday’s profile of Maryland head coach Ralph Friedgen described him as being “thicker at the bottom than at the top due to slow flow over centuries…an amorphous solid at room temperature”. This passage is actually lifted from the Encyclopedia Britannica’s article on stained glass. We regret the error.

On Tuesday, our profile of ERIN ANDREWS NAKED did not feature ERIN ANDREWS NAKED in any form, and was not an interview with ERIN ANDREWS NAKED. ERIN ANDREWS NAKED was not the topic of the post, which instead focused on Northwestern’s plan to take advantage of a more mobile group of quarterbacks in their offensive gameplanning. We regret tactics like using ERIN ANDREWS NAKED to mislead readers, and promise to continue our efforts in not blatantly catching eyes and search results with things like ERIN ANDREWS NAKED.

ERIN ANDREWS NAKED ERIN ANDREWS NAKED ERIN ANDREWS NAKED

Last Friday’s “ACC Voodo And You” feature claimed that Clemson quarterback Willy Korn is the Bell Witch. Although indescribably beautiful and known to appear in mirrors when his name is spoken, Willy Korn is not the Bell Witch.  We regret the error.

Typographical errors, cont’d. Evan Lawless, prize recruit of Texas’ 2010 class, wrote in to correct the spelling of his high school and their team. Lawless attended Canal High School in Houston, and played for the Warriors as a star running back. We misidentified this alma mater in a post that appeared Wednesday on this site.

We regret the error.