Really? Yes? This is happening? He saddles up: shoulder pads, kneebrace, helmet. He reviews his playbook, the script for the first fifteen plays, and takes a quiet knee to collect his thoughts and ask God for protection and the wisdom to make the right decisions on the field. He rises, and the click-clack of his cleats against the concrete floor are his metronome: the symphony is about to begin.

He takes the stand, a conductor in full possession of his powers. Assmann, ready to go.

Capital quarterback Marty Assmann and Ohio State backup quarterback Todd Boeckman are total strangers, but they should do lunch sometime. Chances are the conversation wouldn’t have to start with the weather.

The conversation would probably begin: “Holy shit! You’re name is ASSMANN? YES!!! (fistpump/awkwardmoment)” Because his name really is Assmann, and he plays quarterback for Capital University, a D-III Evangelical Lutheran school in the suburbs of Columbus, Ohio. Assmann is the second-leading passer in the Ohio Athletic Conference, and is totally and completely actually named Assmann.

Capital University, if you make the jersey, we will buy it…so long as it’s made with the Original Assmann Quality we’ve come to expect from all things Assmann. You don’t want to ruin a fine name like that. Like Assmann. Assmann. (Giggle.)

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.)

Context is everything. We know, for example, that it’s likely that the first available photo of Antonio Henton the local station could find once they found out he’d been arrested for attempting to contract a little street lovin’ for himself on Monday night was a crappy old team program photo of dubious quality. It is, in fact, a photo so bad it resembles a mugshot photo taken after the arrest.

I-O! H-O! If we do this, that is.

We also know that Henton wasn’t arrested wearing shoulder pads. However, our imagination has the habit of attempting to make the world more interesting than it actually is, and in this case it’s rolling the tape in our heads of Antonio Henton, standing on a street corner in cleats and pads, trolling for rental pussy in full Ohio State regalia and yelling about somebody needing to put the “H-O” in “Ohio” before his 10:00 p.m. curfew–which, by being arrested at 8:30 p.m., he was clearly not violating.

(A note to the ladies: a man who wears his shoulder pads to bed is damn serious about sixty minutes of full-contact action, ladies. This being the Big Ten, that would be a pounding run up the middle 60 times a game for two scores or so…which ain’t bad.)

UPDATE!!!BULLETBULLETBULLET!!! Charges dismissed!

UPDATE!!!! BULLET X 4 File accidentally closed–new file open, charges NOT dropped, prostitution jokes may resume.

We’ve deviated from what made Friday Cheesecake great: bunda. You like the bunda, we like the bunda…the whole world loves the bunda.

We return in force with a fresh crop this week, especially necessary for Stranko since he did attend a Morissey concert last night, and likely needs a dose of raw heterosexuality to counterbalance the bi/curious vibe from the show.

First, Ms. Reef, whoever that is:

And second, bunda that’s work-safe, but likely not work advisable after the jump.

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