Ahem. Be prepared to be totally wrong, college football fan. There are no pundits. (Except for Phil Steele. He’s a macheeeeen.)
Why? Because there was no possible way Chris Leak was going to win that game for Florida. None. He’s not that good, and never will be. There’s no anger in saying that, no resentment, and no bitterness. It’s just what he is, a statement made free of predjudice, irrational reasoning, and malice. Off the field, he’s everything you’d want a player to be: polite, a good citizen, and a dedicated member of the community. On the field, he’s Doug Johnson with slightly better wheels, and there’s three and a half years of game tape to prove it.
–EDSBS, 10/15/06. Brilliant stuff, there.
I’m…sailing awayyyy…
Looking for a fade route
Or my hot read slant…
In four days, we all go sailing with the Dread Pirate Leach.
Today’s affirmation reminds us that animals may be trained to hate total strangers.
Reader Thor submits today’s Daily Affirmation. Those are tremendous ears.
Today’s affirmation brought to you courtesy of the greatest play nullified by a penalty ever. Lamar Thomas, that shit is mine. Love, George Teague.
(HT: Paul.)
He parachutes into stadiums. He conducts the band. He’s got a thorax. He’s been known to show up unannounced at black-tie functions.
Ladies and gentlemen: your daily affirmation starring America’s most bizarre yet lovable mascot.
Today’s daily affirmation comes courtesy of mattsledge from Miami Hawk Talk and one lone defacer of federal currency. A reminder that in 12 days, value is all that matters.
(Mattsledge got this bill as change after buying a six-pack of beer in Ohio.)
Somewhere, his unblinking head sits in a closet. Never sleeping. Always staring. Waiting.
(Courtesy of Brian @ House Rock Built)
Forget? Hell, no!
HT and cocktails to Holly, our pinch-photoshopper.
Today’s Daily Affirmation brought to you by Curmudgeon Motors of Ann Arbor.
When you’re tired of all that bullshit, come to Curmudgeon Motors. I’m Lloyd Carr, and I don’t give a rat’s ass whether you buy a car. God, I hate this shit. Where’s my windbreaker? Jesus…these people…
Our belated daily affirmation will be our last post for this week, which has been a very, very fun one. Bid adieu to the twenties, since as of next week, we’re into teens–just like half of our filthy, depraved readership (male and female, of course.)
On that note, we give you the lewd and lascivious reminder that with the return of Luther Campbell and the phrase “butt buddies” working itself into their coaches’ lexicon, Da U looks primed for a return to being Da U. To celebrate, we remind you that if they do return to the days of five-minute choreographed touchdown dances, then we’re all getting a ride on the trunk from the 7th Floor Crew. On the trunk? On the trunk.
Play the song to get you in the mood.
(HT: Anonymous brillant poster who wouldn’t want us to use his name–Beano.
MP3 File
Enjoy your weekend. We have an appointment with some green drank to keep.
The unstoppable advent of college football will mean pain for fifty percent of the people watching the game. And when that pain comes, some of us will be wearing jack-o-lanterns.
(HT to Paul, who dug up these photos of Clemson fans during the 2000 Georgia Tech/Clemson Halloween game. He’s also figured out exactly how UGA knew what Virginia Tech was going to run during last year’s Peach Bowl, too.)
We bring you two great tastes that taste together: hope and mustaches. Not that Pitt fans display a lot of hope these days: they’re having such difficulty selling season tickets that if you purchase one full slate of seven games for $120, you can get a second set for just ten dollars. IT’S JUST THAT EASY!!! One operator named Dave Wannstedt standing by, drumming his fingers and looking for a new recruit to replace Pat Bostic and keep himself from telling trippy ghost stories about Ricky Williams to blue-chip qbs.
Happy Mustache Wednesday, motherfuckers!
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