Via the good Doctor, holy shit: Ole Miss stars Greg Hardy and Dexter McCluster got themselves in a car wreck over the weekend that involved open flames:

According to Nutt, another driver pulled out in front of the vehicle Hardy was driving and made contact with the front right tire, pushing it into the engine. Nutt said the vehicle caught fire but the players escaped serious injury.

A likely story (little is known of the Rebs’ “Fear Makes You Fast” offseason conditioning program), but for the moment we’re just glad both guys are up and about and in possession of all their limbs and functions. Next time, Boss Hawg, hire some pros. Those boys should’ve been drunk in a pool somewhere.

Best Actress in a Supporting Role: Sarah Jessica Parker Tripp Thornton Oh God Why The Fuck Do Southern Bourgeoisie Insist On Giving Their Children Eight Thousand Names John Parker Wilson. Naked, exposed, and vulnerable: all the things an actor fears, but must embrace in a role. In him, we see our own demise, but gorier and more painful than could possibly be imagined.

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Join Swindle and dashing cohort PB tonight at NowLive with special guest Bruce Feldman, he of ESPN, the fine book Meat Market, and being told to say bacon pants “like you wanna fuck a pig” by Peter on live air.

Time to shake off the pain of last weekend’s bloodbath, but not before we pick at the scabs a little.  Rightchere. 9 PM EDT.

The Alphabetical, our grand attempt to summarize the week’s action in 26 pieces, is up at the Sporting Blog. it’s a lovely day: the sun is shining, the birds are really and literally singing outside the window, and the Dane is lying comfortably in the grass. What more could one ask for, really?

Besides a yard? ONE DAMN YARD, DAMMIT.

This house is going to be spotless by the time we’re done with this. Like, Joan Crawford spotless.

Clean up THIS MEEEEEESSSSS!

Our only consolation is that across the state of Georgia there will be thousands of other spotless homes by the end of the day, too. Nifty thing: our cleaning makes them feel better, too, via the endless loop of mutually reinforced schadenfreude.

Meanwhile, Ole Miss, don’t lift a thing today. You should spend the day drinking, and drinking heavily and eating on the reddest and velvetiest of red velvet cake. Ragin’ Cajun Rebel texted us at 1:30 in the morning last night with the question: “Does it still sting?” Yes, which means your football team did somethin’ right, son. Giggitys all around.

Enjoy your Sunday. We’ll see you tomorrow.