EIGHTBALL THE TIGER SAYS THIS IS YOUR OPEN THREAD FOR CLEMSON/GT NO I’M NOT HUNGRY BUT I WANT TO CALL SOME FRIENDS YEAH LET’S CALL SOME FRIENDS IT WILL BE AWESOME WE’LL ALL GO TO THE MARINA AND STEAL SOME BOATS AND RIDE AROUND AND SHIT I LOVE BOATS THEY GO SO FAST AND THEN WE’LL JUST LEAVE EM IN THE MIDDLE OF THE LAKE AND SWIM TO SHORE AND GO GET SOME MORE BLOW FROM MY FRIEND RODNEY HE’S SO COOL THEN WE’RE GONNA PLAY DARTS UNTIL WE PUT TOO MANY HOLES IN YOUR WALL HOPE YOUR OLD LADY DOESN’T MIND ME STAYING OVER ON YOUR COUCH I CAN HEAR MY HEART IN MY EYEBALLS IS THAT BAD?

And you think I’m injured? I WILL FIGHT YOU RIGHT NOW UNDERTAKER. Tim Tebow pulled off his sling to prove he was fine at a basketball game after his recent shoulder surgery. Call him an attention whore all you like, but you’re only a successful whore if you have thousands of customers. This is what we call a “demand side” issue, and in Gainesville we’re afraid prohibition or choking off the demand is out of the question.

Myles Brand sanctioned by pancreatic cancer. A small cancer joke among friends, of course. Myles Brand, head of the NCAA, has pancreatic cancer and the long-term prognosis is “not good.” Brand, who actually once answered a question sent to him by proxy from EDSBS, will know the results of the chemotherapy he is undergoing later this month. Happy thoughts to him, even if we still aren’t sure what he does as president of the NCAA.

Your completely logical user comment of the day: Is here.

Hows that hand me down coach working out for you guys? Too bad he couldn’t pull off with your program what he pulled off with ours in 2004. Maybe he’ll turn tail on you guys like he did to us in the postseason and try to come back now that we are national champions. We won’t want him though.

Love, Utah fan. His email address was “nofrickinwayyougetmyemail@areyoukiddingme.com.” Frickin’ clever!

De-Croomification has begun. Dan Mullen has started the process by getting three four-star commitments for Mississippi State, thus doubling the number of theoretical recruiting stars Sylvester Croom ever got on the offensive side of the ball at the school. If you’d like to get excited (or alternately despondent) over your school’s prospects, we suggest you examine that Rivals summary.

Our faculty is energetic. Don’t ask why. The University of Florida: makin’ it snow, baby.
]]> http://www.everydayshouldbesaturday.com/2009/01/19/curious-index-11909/feed/ 25 http://www.everydayshouldbesaturday.com/2008/12/04/just-in-time-for-my-contract-renegotiationjob-search/ http://www.everydayshouldbesaturday.com/2008/12/04/just-in-time-for-my-contract-renegotiationjob-search/#comments Thu, 04 Dec 2008 18:17:32 +0000 Orson Swindle http://www.everydayshouldbesaturday.com/?p=7996

De’Shon Sanders is the snowman, and he’s gonna melt under the interrogation lamps: the reserve defensive back for the Texas Tech Red Raiders was arrested at 1:30 in the morning today in Lubbock by DEA agents. Please note the scary Federal acronym. That’s the DEA, as in “pound-you-in-the-ass federal prison” Feds. Sanders, caught with over 50 grams of cocaine, is trouble spelled with a capital DAMN.

Sanders is also a housemate of Michael Crabtree. Crabtree has not been implicated in the case in any way.

It cannot help Mike Leach’s efforts to sufficiently gain leverage to bleed some extra booty from the rules of his home port to have this happen, and it is a marginal distraction for Washington, who might be the team most serious about hiring Leach as a head coach. As for Auburn, who probably has a booster who is already literally throwing money at him and crying into the phone to him, this won’t matter OH GOD WHAT HAVE WE DONE PLEASE COME COACH OUR FOOTBALL TEAM HOLY GOD WHAT HAVE WE DONE.

Georgia Tech at Boston College

HOLLY (QUASI-RATIONAL): What do you call it when you’re picking a team for completely unsound reasons but they’re the better team anyway? I like Georgia Tech because I also like yelling, “BEEEEEEEEEEES!!” on a crowded sidewalk, but that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.

ORSON (RATIONAL) Tech by creeping strangulation. Even against Jacksonville State the flexbone moved with grinding, almost infuriating pace, like some kind of giant horseshoe crab filterfeeding its way down the field, except that this horseshoe crab could occasionally make huge leaps, so really, it’s like a tarantula in armor, but underwater, and…goddammit, just take Tech and Dwyer, and add in Tech’s defensive line to pressure BC’s suspicious passing game into mistakes. Money spent on the Tarantulaleapingcrab-Bot is money well spent.

Southern Miss at Auburn

HOLLY (QUASI-RATIONAL): Southern Miss is plucky, upstartish, moxiefied, and fresh from knocking off Louisiana-Lafayette. This will not save them. Auburn has the devil’s own luck when it comes to close games, but they don’t need it this week. (The chop blocks will continue, y’know, to stay limber.)

ORSON (QUASI-RATIONAL): Southern Miss to cover, but Auburn will pull this out despite some horrific staggers because, after Chris Todd puts them in danger of an upset he will save them from all evil by boldly handing off to Ben Tate and Brad Lester. If you have not seen Brad Lester run: he kicks up his knees to mid-stomach on every stride, making tackling him in close quarters as appetizing as bringing down an Emu at a full run. Emu knees for the win, since we’re so big on transmogrified animal metaphors today.

San Diego St. at Notre Dame

HOLLY (IRRATIONAL): Because I had a perfect record in picks last week until MY OWN SCHOOL torpedoed me, I’m allowing myself one PureSpite (patent pending) upset pick to meet my emotional need for suffering in others. The Irish are going down like sweet muffins. (Please?)

ORSON (IRRATIONAL): OH set forth the banners flying and send telexes to the relative potentates! Don your short tie, place your hat upon your head as a gentleman would, and catch the early train bound for South Bend to watch OLD NOTRE DAME and the floating, seventy-pound head of Tom Hammond plow one of the ten worst teams in all of college gridiron creation.

Note: not because Notre Dame is good, which we don’t know, or because San Diego State is bad. (Which they gobsmackingly are.) Mostly because we’ll do anything to get the mesmerizing head of O’Brien Tom Hammond off our television screen, and an early Notre Dame lead means clock running and a quick game.

Like Harvey Birdman if he were a Mexican street hustler/exotic dancer.

Oregon St. at Penn St.

HOLLY (IRRATIONAL): I’ve tried everything—hypnotherapy, electroshock, black tar heroin—but there’s absolutely no way, empirically, that I could care less about this game, barring Paterno cannibalizing an errant receiver on the sideline. Penn State. I mean, I guess.

ORSON (IRRATIONAL WITH CAPITALS WTF) Sometimes, you drop your pants and make the revolution happen. In a weekend where only the personal blood is on the line with Miami/Florida, you have to throw a few molotov cocktails around to keep things interesting. See, I’m a man of simple tastes. I like gunpowder…and dynamite…and gasoline! Do you know what all of these things have in common? They’re cheap!

Air Force at Wyoming

HOLLY (QUASI-RATIONAL): The Falcons had 508 yards of offense in their season opener (against something called “Southern Utah, but still, god bless the Mountain West). Wyoming had problems putting away Ohio (not the good one). Advantage: Air Force.

ORSON (QUASI-RATIONAL): Air Force runs the triple option with streamers and bells on it over Wyoming with gleeful ease. While we are not aware of any serious research on this issues aside from eyeing the box scores and saying, “Wow, you barely beat a Frank Solich Ohio team,” there is also the issue of critical escalator shortages in Wyoming, which just has to have something to do with their football difficulties as of late.

W. Virginia at E. Carolina

HOLLY (QUASI-RATIONAL): Pat White is a machine. And he’s getting smarter. [SFX: CHCH-CH-CHCH. Metal skulls and glowing red eyes appear on the horizon.] He also piloted much of last week’s offense on the strength of his passes instead of his twinkle toes. East Carolina’s no Villanova, but neither are the Mountaineers the Hokies. West Fuckin’ By-God Virginia FTW.

ORSON (QUASI-RATIONAL): East Carolina–not Eastern as we usually insist on calling it for Junior Corso points–enjoyed the privilege of facing Sean Glennon at quarterback last week. This week, as our colleague pointed out, they will be facing Pat White, who is to Sean Glennon at qb Jennifer Lopez’s 2000-level back-bumper is Lara Flynn Boyle’s buttular concavity: an entirely different species capable of performing witchcraft, serving as an air-traffic controller without wearing a headset, and currently serving as Minister of Culture in several African nations. Couches, ignite!

J-Lo, Stuff Magazine, the frilly rumba panties: Pat White’s that kind of quality at qb.

Arkansas vs. UL-Monroe

HOLLY (IRRATIONAL): Bobby Petrino makes this face when his team is in trouble that looks like he’s trying to clench a hot lump of coal in his ass. We get to see that face a lot. But not tomorrow. Hawgs (sp?).

ORSON (QUASI-RATIONAL) Arkansas big, but ugly, in the kind of way someone can become filthy wealthy, garner massive success, and still purchase a PT Cruiser because “It’s campy.” No sir, it is not. It is a Geo Metro covered in extra plastic. We may have found our metaphor for this year’s Arkansas team, a big, drive blocking lummox of a team going through it’s first week of kung-fu class under a very unpleasant and demanding sensei. Pain training continues.

Miami (FL) at Florida

HOLLY (QUASI-RATIONAL): Gators over ‘Canes, again just for showing up to the stadium. Reformed MIA, you begin to bore me with your “suspensions” for “violating team rules.”

ORSON (IRRATIONAL BLIND HOMERISM): Florida, if only because Miami’s got 13 freshmen on the two-deep and nary as senior to be found. Still, we’ll believe they’re dead when flames go out and we see the bones. Shame has no date of expiry:

Stanford at Arizona St.

HOLLY (IRRATIONAL): Programming note: I’ll be pulling for Arizona State the rest of the season, if only to prevent any more shots of Rudy Carpenter in HD looking like the subject of a botched-kidney-operation reality show. (Fridays on FOX.)

ORSON (RATIONAL) Arizona State, since Stanford’s all blitz-wacky and Arizona State spent the better part of the offseason running screens and quick hitters to keep Rudy Carpenter from peeing his very favorite kind of urine, blood. Lyle Moevao was pressured into grievous mistakes by the Cardinal, but he also made some dunderheaded ones himself that Rudy Carpenter will not make under pressure. Remember: Rudy Carpenter doesn’t make too many mistakes, mostly because he spends the majority of his games lying on his back holding in the tears.

Texas at UTEP

HOLLY (IRRATIONAL): Aww, hey there, Colt! Sleep well? What’s that? You want to play like a quarterback this season? Good on ya. Hook ‘em.

ORSON (QUASI-RATIONAL): Texas by miles and miles and miles and miles. Unless gunfire from nearby Juarez wanders over and nips any of the Longhorns’ starters, we’re looking at one of the more lopsided, gutted, bombed-out and depleted matchups of the weekend. UTEP, who at one point claimed to have “Carson Palmer’s brother” playing qb, lost to Buffalo this past weekend. When you put both Buffalo and Texas on the Winnar bench, you truly have diversified the degrees of suck in your possession.

Really, don’t even tune into this one. You think you like to see people on fire, because it’s funny in movies and stuff. Then you really see it, and well…it’s funnier. We mean not at all. Yes.

Michael Irvin’s floating head will appear at the corners of your vision if you relax your eyes long enough. Then, it will snort anything white in the room.

Congratulations are due to your winner, with a total of 28 points. Some people would say congratulations to someone who just won such a prestigious award. For such an occasion as this, we won’t just crack out the standard Asti Spumante—no, only the Andre Cold Duck Pink will do, and only if we have buckets and buckets of it.

Pop the cork, take a bow, and let the celebrations begin: a champion arriveth. Congratulations to Alabama on their 72nd national title, which Nick Saban appropriately does not have time to accept in person. Roll, Tide, Roll.

Jimmy Johns must be noted for his outstanding work in making this happen, selling cocaine an incomprehensible number of times to undercover cops in Tuscaloosa, but he wasn’t alone. Jeremy Elder, while not particularly good at robbery, was certainly enthusiastic enough to rack up points for two counts of first-degree robbery.

Johns and Elder alone would have won the Copa del Malfeasance, but teammate A.J. Walker kicked in by walking around drunk on the strip. But we’ve done that, you say! Of course you have, and if you are currently on the roster of the Crimson Tide, we invite you to submit your points to be tallied with the rest.

(Note: SAS Wiki includes Rashad Johnson’s dismissed charges for disorderly conduct on their total. This is an error, but the point total is not: 20 for Johns, a conservative seven for Elder, and one for poor A.J.’s solo Jagermeister Tango down the strip.)

This leaves the Ellis T. Jones Award for Outstanding individual Achievement In A Single Crime, which this year must also be awarded to Johns, who racked up twenty points for having the persistence to sell cocaine to undercover officers not once, but FIVE times. That kind of stick-to-it-iveness gets you championships. And lengthy jail sentences.

Our petitions for an award ceremony rebuffed, we had to rely on hidden camera footage take of Nick Saban at home to get any reaction from the most powerful coach in sport. From appearances, the Fulmer Cup is just one more piece of motivation to put on your wall.

Thus concludes the Fulmer Cup 2008. Amen, alleluia, and hosannas all around. Special thanks to Brian, who remains hung like Reggie F’n Nelson, for the scoreboards, to Dave, who never neglected ot let us know of the smallest parking violation, and SAS Wiki, whose Fulmer Cup Accounting Station was an immense resource for someone as mathematically challenged as the editors of this site. You’re all coming to extra-crispy hell with us.

We prefer to think of them as an entrepreneurial youth group. Missouri redshirt freshman safety Gilbert Moye has interests including networking with other young urban youth, the color blue, and interpretive hand signal exchange. David Boren just told Bob Stoops to kick him off the team, and wants none of these excuses about him going to another university with an entirely different football team.

SMQ kindly points out to Stoops that no significant members of “the internet culture” called for Josh Jarboe’s removal; in fact, prior to the day of Josh Jarboe’s dismissal, neither did Stoops. The unsubstantiated but persistent rumor you will hear on the internets culture is that the order came directly from OU President David Boren, which makes sense. You would have to deliberate for days to come up with a response as harebrained and trigger-happy (get it?) as the decision to boot Jarboe; being a former Senator, bad decision-making and nitwit policy flow from him naturally.

(Big ups to Boren for the Boren National Security Language Fellowship, though. Let’s not be totally unfair, here…just slightly unfair.)

I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS. All-Caps Mike Gundy ENJOYS THE TASTE OF RED BULL. He says he sticks to coffee until around 11 in the morning. We assume “coffee” means “espresso poured directly into eyeball because HE IS MAN 40 ETCETERA RAAAARRRGGH.

Ed Orgeron was the last coach we could remember being an avowed Red Bull drinker. If Gundy loses his job after the season, we’ll call it a trend of two: declare love for Red Bull publicly as a coach, and then immediately lose job.

It also explains some things of course. Contrast exhibit A:

“When you combine those two together, you always have a risk,” he said. According to Clemens, some major concerns with mixing these two drinks include, but are not limited to, cardiovascular risk, impaired judgment, shortness of breath, dizziness, disorientation and rapid heart beat.

Exhibit B:

It gives you STROOOOOOOOOOOOOKES!!!

Joel, who has a thing for fonts and logos, analyzes both the scariest (eep!) and the blandest of logos. Air Force really deserves better, but our suggestion of a mushroom-cloud font would have only flown through the approval process at the peak of the cold war.

Cocaine is funny except when it isn’t. John Reaves, the one-time Gator great, is arrested for cocaine possession, but only after pointing a gun at two men in an altercation. How the hell do you get to 58 being a cocaine addict? Do you have a heart you use only on weekends and a removable septum?

George O’Leary speaks to the Orlando Sentinel for UCF’s Media Day. That’s so nice of him.

Jimmy Johns’ monumental arrest for powdered cocaine distribution nets Alabama a mountain of points as powdery as Breckenridge in February and just as immovable. Before any points are awarded, bear this in mind: while Johns may be eligible for the Ellis T. Jones III for individual achievement, the points may not be discarded as “just one guy” thanks to Alabama already having several offenses on the board. The judgment is that Alabama keeps the points, and there will be no debate, because this is not democracy. (Those who object will not be waterboarded, but rather “aqua-cuddled.” It’s not torture if you have a good word for it!)

The tally, as assembled from Johns’ weighty entry at the Tuscaloosa County Jail:

Five counts of unlawful distribution of a controlled substance times three points each= Fifteen points

One count possession of powdered cocaine: three points

Two unreported traffic citations= two points

The final tally: TWENTY POINTS, a score deserving of all-caps hyperbole, except that it isn’t hyperbole if you even come close to halving Ellis T. Jones 13 felony charges (somewhere around a forty point score by itself without any bonus points. Quantifying his achievement almost demeans its greatness.)

Alabama now sits proudly with an oxygen bottle on an Everest of points: 28. The prayer flags flapping in the breeze, the Himalaya all around you…it would be beautiful if we were talking about mountain climbing, and not a college linebacker caught selling blow in an undercover sting operation.

One point not to be forgotten is that if you sell to one person five times, the actual number of transactions Johns made with customers was likely larger. No one sells coke experimentally or on a lark, especially when you’re diligent enough to make five sales in a row. Johns seemed to be pretty serious about this, and to imagine some of his teammates did not know he sold yayo from his apartment is insanity.

There’s a fine line between dumping off a few grams for a friend for extra cash and being a responsible, diligent, and responsive coca dealer. And yes, that’s an abominable pun we shouldn’t have even sniffed at. Sniff! Cocaine is funny! Except when it destroys your family and eats your house, car, and septum!

In addition to this, a website suggests Jimmy Johns may have been selling pit bulls using his name, something Will points out is a possible violation of NCAA rules. For all we know the site may be a mockup for a class, since there’s only an email address and no phone contact. Further digging required, but further proof all football fans in the state of Alabama sleep with a bible on one nightstand and a copy of the NCAA rules and regs on the other.

One final note on this: Johns allegedly had tabs of Ecstasy on him, too, but it pops up nowhere on the charges, meaning so many charges are in play here that adding the E onto the tally is considered overkill even by the prosecutors here. We follow their guidance and stick to the arrest record for points, and award no style points because, really, some things speak well enough for themselves on their own.

In what would be big news any other week, Washington State picks up a three point adjustment for this unreported (or totally missed, perhaps) incident from February, which eventually resulted in a series of misdemeanor pleas:

Andy Mattingly, a linebacker coming off an outstanding sophomore season, was in Spokane in late January when a friend called for help. His front teeth had just been punched out in an argument with some soccer players from North Idaho College, he said.

When police arrested Mattingly and Mooney, Mooney was so drunk he vomited while being booked.

Frying pans are the new kettlebells!

From Al.com:

Asked for the specific charges, Kosloff said he believed the Brookhaven, Miss., native was arrested and charged with seven “drug-related” charges, including selling.

Police allege cocaine and marijuana are involved, Kosloff said.

Johns had moved from running back to “linebacker,” a term with numerous double entendres in light of the alleged charges. More to come, but we won’t use this as an excuse to post Dr. Rockso videos no we won’t we I DO COCAAAAAAAAAINE!!!! GONNA MAKE YOU A BALLOOOOOOON ANIMAAAAAAL!!!!

Seriously, he does a lot of cocaine.

Update: Mug shot with fierce beard. Worse news still: we’re going to have to have Brian rework the board again, because Alabama may have just taken a huge leap forward in the Fulmer Cup standings. (Five felony possession charges alone= FIFTEEN points. Digits, baby!)

A Smooth House. The whole idea of smooth is to pretend you’re living on a houseboat in California, or in a ski house in Vail. (Not Aspen–that’s so 80s, man.) If you don’t have a houseboat in California, that’s fine: purchase a houseboat somewhere else. The houseboat should come equipped with a hot, lanky woman who wakes up in a bikini on it four or five days a week. She should be a marine biologist, or failing that,

If you can’t find a houseboat equipped with a hot, lanky woman in a hip-hugger two-piece, or just can’t find a houseboat, you must consider purchasing a home in the woods. The home should be made of pine cut into boards set at 45 degree angles, and it should feature wraparound decks, huge bay windows in geometric shapes, and an irregular offset roof with a window across the top. It should be decorated in mostly browns, feature lots of rugs and wicker furniture, and have a hot tub you can go into naked with some pink champagne and a brunette majoring in ecology or some shit like that.

Oh, and a fireplace with a rug in front of it, because that’s where you get your smooth lovin’ on. It’s as key as blow, backgammon, and Dallas on Friday nights.

Fondue. No class smoothness can happen without fondue. It’s important if you’re classing up to the Smooth Life to have a primo fondue set. It’s beyond question that the highest calling of a the sophisticated smooth gentleman of 1980 is satsify woman in the smoothest but still indomitable way. And what shows your controlled but steady heat of your Sterno-hot soul like fondue, which combines something classy and foreign with something completely American: covering tasty shit in low grade melted cheese.

Hot, but smooooooooth.

Plus there’s all these forks and shit that go with it. It’s sort of like purchasing a knife set–manly!–that you can use to impress ladies with while eating cheese. If you called that a hat trick, brother, then smooth is in the very marrow of your bones.

Raquetball. Gyms are for gay guys, and though you’re technically cool with that, you wear the bait-and-tackle-revealing jean cutoffs for the ladies and for the ladies only. And who wants to get all muscle-y and ripped? Again, you’re about being a lean, smooth-sailin’ vessel, and all the Hawaiian shirts, ski vests, Swedish ski sweaters and Izod shirts you just purchased didn’t come cheap, hombre. (Thus explaining the Velveeta used instead of the more expensive Emmenthaler, baby.)

So get some male-bonding time, exercise, and another excuse to buy some more shit with all that sweet money you’re making with your Texas Instruments and Teledyne stock in one easy step: racquetball. You have to wear special goggles, use a racket, buy special shoes, wear short shorts to show off the legs, buy some new striped tube socks, and use a special ball that smells just like the aroma of a used condom heated by hot fireside action after some fondue and Champale. (Not that you use a condom, smooth guy. It’s all organic with me. The rest is her problem, man.)

The added bonus are the nasty scars and bruises you might get when your partner broadsides you with the edge of his racquet. See? I wasn’t meaning to be macho, because it’s ‘80 and we’re all past that now. But yeah, I kept playing. No, go ahead and touch it. It doesn’t hurt…too..much…

Adrenaline junkie? Go hang-gliding. It’s like sailing, but in the air.

Smooth Tunes. Now, we’re not going to hedge you in. Yacht Rock’s just one way to keep smooth. If you break jazzy and sinister intellectual, then you’re a Steely Dan man. Doing drugs makes you a Steely Dan dude, too, especially because they’re loaded with lots of references to blow and smoking opium. Don’t listen to the lyrics, because then you might start to think, and that’s most definitely UNsmooth.

If you’re a little country, then you’ve got to hybridize with some Buffett, because that guy is all about smooth, but in a beachy kind of way. Weed and booze is pretty much what you’ll get here, so you might have to get a nice couch to do it right, because you’re not really going to be moving for a few years. Go ahead and listen to the lyrics, too: they’re great for your soul, because they’ll tell you that no matter what you’re doing at this moment, well, that’s just what you should be doing, and it’s all good as long as you grab a drink and just look at the waves, man.

And if you’re a bit more urban, well, right on, brother! Earth, Wind, and Fire is your ticket.

Be careful with getting into soul and r ‘n b, though: you might have to start dancing energetically, and that’s bordering on UNsmooth.

Backgammon. You don’t know how to play it. That’s cool. It comes in its own suitcase and has dice and a shaker, and there’s lots of smooth little pieces, so it must be good. By the time you start to play it with the lady, it’ll be too late to figure out the game anyway, so hammered will you be on White Zin and the fine Thai Stick you’ll be smoking. Suggest you settle your dispute over the “rules” with a kiss, and you’re suddenly playing the game you came to play all along and taking off those corduroys, Captain.

Speaking of…

A Captain’s Hat. Ironic? Sure. Serious? Damn right, because this crazy ocean of a life may throw every wave imaginable at you, sailor. You have to be ready, both mentally and spiritually, ready to tack and go where the wind takes you. No fashion decision makes this statement more clearly than the Captain’s Hat, showing that while you have some outlaw spirit, you’re no pirate: a leader of men, a lover of ladies, and yet married to the sea. (Plus: covers receding hairline.)

An Audi. It’s not BMW pretentious, but it’s still German. Other acceptable displays of your commitment to the automotive smooth: A Volkswagen Karmann Ghia, MG, or Fiat, the smaller and more convertible, the better, since you don’t want all that flyover state bulk weighing you down, and the wind’s got to tousle your hair or what’s the point of breathing, man.

Cocaine. You think energetic is unsmooth, man? Hell no: you level out the booze with blow, just to keep it smooth but tight, baby. Makes fixing the fondue twice as fun both because of the sudden energy you’ll possess in getting the kitchen CLEANER THAN YOU EVER IMAGINED IT COULD BE, but also because once the fondue is done and you’ve gotten the hot tub cranking, you’ll be a mad tiger by the fireside…but only if you call the tiger out, baby. Otherwise, I’m just another lamb seeking refuge from the wolves, lady.

Also: cocaine and a cocaine habit makes losing the “contemporary” house or houseboat really, really easy later down the road. Easier, in fact, than you could have possibly imagined!

Dallas. Oh, you know it’s trashy, but J.R. is such an unbelievable badass you can’t look away. He impregnates his brother’s sister, and then has her sent away? And then turned into a spinoff? J.R. spellbinds you by ruining Cliff Barnes’ life weekly, banging every foot-tall hairdo that walks into the room before spanking them in gratitude and sending them on their way, and in one season by overthrowing a third-world government. Toss in the endless string of tailored suits, the ice-blue eyes of a stone-cold amoral killer, and the evil but irresistable grin, and you’ve got the perfect way to chill out with a cold glass of champagne on your massive an inevitably brown couch on Friday night.

“Are you telling me you had nothing to do with that counter-revolution?” God, we wish that would be asked of us just once in our lifetime.

The Offseason Survival Guide

SI’s got their archives mostly open and running, a boon for tweedy archvists like ourselves and something that had us sprinting straight for rock star Rick Telander at his most glorious: the February 29th, 1989 article “You Reap What You Sow,” which for the EDSBS underclassmen will serve as a cheat sheet (pun!) for what we mean when we say something is “Barry Switzertastic” in terms of program mismanagement and lax discipline.

We remember the exact instant when we read this article: sitting in a Fantastic Sam’s in a strip mall in Franklin, Tennessee, waiting on a haircut with Mom and vacillating between adolescent moral horror and unabashed admiration for the gusto Oklahoma’s football players displayed in their abuse of petty privilege.

A few of the finer cuts:

Earlier that week he had lectured children at a nearby grammar school about the evils of drug use. “Regardless of what anyone has told you about drugs,” he told the youngsters, “they’re the quickest way to end your life, the quickest way to be in jail.”

Three days later the FBI charged Thompson with having sold 17 grams of cocaine for $1,400 to an undercover agent on Jan. 26.

And:

Parks, who reportedly had been drinking, barged in and angrily confronted Peters about a cassette tape that he claimed Peters had borrowed. Peters told Parks he didn’t know what he was talking about. The two had gone to high school together in Houston, and Peters knew of Parks’s volatile temper. But Peters was much bigger—240 pounds to Parks’s 176—and once the shouting turned to shoving, Parks was on the floor.

In a rage, Parks bolted from the dorm and into the parking lot. He returned with a Harrington & Richardson eight-shot .22-caliber revolver. He threatened Peters with it and was taunted in return. “You’re not going to do anything,” said Peters. “I dare you! Go on, shoot me! Shoot me!” Peters stepped forward and pushed Parks yet again. Parks shot him. The bullet missed Peters’s heart by three inches. Parks fled to neighboring Jones Hall, where he was apprehended by university police officers. “I’m the one who did it,” police quoted Parks as saying. “I had no choice.”

The next time someone complains about “kids these days,” just send them this link and remind them that “crazy-ass motherfucker” has never gone out of style.

Remember: Illinois and Mizzou are both victims of one player’s outstanding contributions. Depending on your semantics, then they’re not really winning as a team effort. That award would, at this point, go to the West Virginia Mountaineers and the nine points they earned last week for a large “intent to distribute” marijuana arrest. Tennessee is just a disorderly conduct or DUI charge away from nipping into the team lead, however, a move that would restore the earth to its proper axis, return to the king to his rightful place in Gondor, and get Arrested Development back on the air again.

Missing in action: A few obvious preseason faves miss the list completely, making them sleepers just waiting in the weeds to explode onto the board, or otherwise tranquil programs with shockingly little to worry about in the discipline department. Where’s former champ Marshall? Or heavy preseason favorite Arizona State? Or even Purdue, a team with consistently high scores throughout the short history of the cup? And whither Florida, Florida State, or Miami? Florida’s already got a point for a piddling underage drinking charge, but none of the big three has anything to show in the way of taserings, drinking while flying a blimp, discharging weapons in crowded daycares, or trafficking in exotic animals.

The Florida points are on the way in an update, so don’t bitch about it in the comments. This ensures one person at the least will bitch about it in the comments.

The new charges, notes, and clarifications:

The Vols pick up two for Faison’s DUI and continue to win the team award: five arrests in total only have them at the eight point mark, meaning they may be kings of the junk bond market, but in points alone they’re trailing due to the spectacular tallies of Missouri and Illinois.

Oregon enters due to the weird charge of “running a drug house,” a charge that must be from the civil code of Oregon or something since we’ve never heard it before. On paper, it merely looks like receiver Derrick Jones was arrested for contempt of court, so for the moment we’ll assess the Ducks with a mere two points. If the charges blossom into something spectacular–JONES HAD LIVE TIGER, WORLD IS MINE NEON FOUNTAIN SCULPTURE IN DRUG MANSION–then we’ll modify. For now, two points it is.

Note that Missouri and Illinois are up there for individual accomplishments, and so may both end up being Ellis T. Jones III candidates for individual achievement, not Fulmer Cup winners.

Missouri earned points we neglected to include last week, mostly because we couldn’t believe anyone not named Robert Downey, Jr. could be caught with such a diverse array of recreational drugs. And yet he exists: late of the Missouri football team, backup defensive tackle John Stull was arrested on Jan. 11th and is charged with two felony counts of drug possession, one misdemeanor count of drug possession, suspicion of possessing drug paraphernalia, possession of intoxicating liquor as a minor and use of a false identification.

Felony drug possession is a step above your average weed-toting Gator-inhalator charge, especially when you’re talking about coke and pills, which is precisely the case in Stull’s case. Three points each for those, one point for the misdemeanors, and we’ve cooked up a 10 point kilo of points for Missouri that was miscounted as 3 last week. We, like the Gainesville Sun, regret the error.

The asterisk by the score is significant, though: it indicates an early watch on the Ellis T. Jones III award, meaning the award for the single largest score for an individual. If Missouri stays clean for the rest of the Fulmer Cup race, we would award Stull the ET3 award, and give the program award to someone else. The point is to account for programmatic, patterned bad behavior ind a single program, not one outlier on an otherwise well-behaved team. Thus the little octopus hovering in the northeast corner up there.

Officer, I don’t like your tone. Tennessee lineman Anthony Parker picks up a bullshitty disorderly conduct charge, but a point is a point is a point here. Why is it a a bit bullshittish? Because Parker’s biggest crime seems to be hollerin’ and cussin’, a time-honored pasttime in Tennessee from what we can remember from our tenure in the Parallelogram.

Knoxville Police Department spokesperson Darrell DeBusk said Parker, 21, was arrested in the parking lot of the Sutters Mill Apartment complex just after midnight Saturday morning.

Henard then arrested Parker and took him to the detention center . . . .

That’s why it’s bullshit, but you don’t quiet down when the cops come a-callin’, and you get-a disorderly conduct charge and one point for the Vols, who are already making an outstanding claim in the early paces of the Fulmer Cup race. Tradition never graduates! WOOOOOOOOO!!! This is ourrrrrr country…..

And remember…Ole Miss picks up points for disorderly as well. We still think they’re blameless due to the intoxicating effects of erotic chicken.

P.S. Texas A&M’s points were an error, as well–the incident occurred during the season, and is not eligible.