That, if you’ll recall from last year’s BYU/Washington game, is what happens when you take apes, give them complex and sometimes poorly written rules, and ask them to navigate them 14 times a year under the live fire of crowd noise, bodies hurtling all over the place, and the confusion of real-life angles and blocked perspectives. Necessarily stated: officiating is hard, especially in football officiating, a job akin to being a traffic cop stuck without a car vainly trying to flag down speeders without the benefit of a radar gun or pistol.

There’s really just four sets of eyes out there to watch 22 players in motion, and this bad math leads to worse calls. Realistically, holding really could be called on every play, and every game contains a thousand variables being processed by very fallible brains working very quickly under immense pressure. Faced with an impossible job, most crews seem to stick to the big stuff, calling the most egregious penalties while letting little ones slide.

Unless, unless, unless: the crew is captained by Ron Cherry, the most annoying spotlight-slutty referee in the nation and a kidney stone of an official at best, or the crew actually decides to call the excessive celebration call. (more…)

The brave new world of EDSBS Live on talkshoe begins tonight. Click below to listen at 9:00 as we boldly trainwreck our way through the process.

Hear you tonight, provided our morbid fear of competently managing an online radio show doesn’t overcome us once again.

(PS. We’re scientific, even in our torture of others.)

We apologize.

You have no idea how your body works. None. You wake up each day for reasons you don’t understand, eat things you can’t name the ingredients to, drink beverages you can’t make yourself, and then pass out at an appointed time you can choose within certain parameters. (Like it or not, even Pete Carroll has to literally lie down for hours at a time like an unbelievable pussy. You do it for eight hours a night on average, you simpering mollycoddle.)

It’s probably for the best that you don’t understand how it works. Percy Harvin is the cautionary tale of going down the rabbit hole of anatomical connections, where you discover that the heel injury is connected to the knee, to the hip, and that if you so much as breathe on any of this incorrectly, it gets huffy–nay! Insulted, even.

“The bottom of the heel is filled with tiny honeycombs, lobules of fat and muscle that absorb shock. You have insulted those during surgery, so you’re not going to be able to bear weight on it the same way right away.”

In retrospect, our calling Percy Harvin’s heel “a fucking asshole” two years ago may have been a tactical error. We apologize profusely. On the upside, if Harvin jukes left against Tennessee and his head explodes, you’ll now have a very tangential and vivid illustration of how everything in the human body truly is connected.

Holly and Orson discuss the ins and outs of sex during football season in an important discussion of a sensitive family health issue that is relevant to everyone. It therefore should be listened to shamefully beneath several layers of covers in bed. Alone, that is. Without touching of the personal variety. God’s watching you. And he is ashamed.

The exact length of the podcast is ten minutes and fifty-four seconds, or just about the length of the average sexual encounter in Thailand. They’re Asian, and therefore efficient.

MP3 File

Basic rules proposed:

–Bank sex points on Friday night in between Thursday night and Saturday.

–Recliner head is acceptable for lower tier in-conference games, but not for big games.

–Halftime is there for a reason. Use it.

Any other rules and suggestions phrased in a classy way are acceptable below. By classy, we mean using the phrase “Boston Strangler” instead of “skirt scallop” for the vagina, and “lap taffy” or some other civilized term for the penis instead of “beef bayonet.” Join the campaign right now, and receive a free in-game abstinence banner after the jump.

(more…)

Bullshit…fucking drop step….Bullshit go again…you’re fucking killing me…get off the fucking line with your left foot…

WE’RE FUCKING PRACTICING! Aw, shit couldn’t crack a fucking egg.

This is Jon Tenuta practicing at Notre Dame. You should watch it before they take it down. As they say at the beginning, it’s not suitable for children or work, just like most of the good things in life.

And now, a weirdass commercial from Judy Tenuta in 1989, who is of no relation and curses less that Jon.

(HT: Matt.)