We’re finishing up a column on why people hate Duke basketball. In the meantime, please accept the fond wishes of Ric Flair, who has been set to music by Atlanta’s own local genius, Poodleface.

Just like that, you’re not doing work. Those women in the video are truly the finest women in the world: the high cinched belts, the crimped hair, the pounds of makeup.

Today is Repeal Day! Hip Hip, Hooray!

On this day in 1933 prohibition was officially repealed when Utah, of all states, signed on to the 21st Amendment, paving the way for nearly a century of great tailgating. I’ll drink to that.

Mississippi State owns their country attitude: cowbells in the stands, a buttoned-down gameday decor, and that entire section of the stands reserved for those who’ve lost limbs in gruesome farm injuries. (Not true! That’s actually a section in Kinnick Stadium in Iowa.)

How much do they really own it, though? So much so that the flyover for the Alabama game was done by what appears to be a crop duster or the Baron Von Richtofen himself flying all the way from Hell for the game.

Gadzooks! Was that the dashing Wiley Post? Or the rakish Jimmy Doolittle? Or perhaps Amelia Earhart, who overcomes the crippling handicap of having a vagina every time she bravely enters an aircraft! O, those wily aviators! Someday, might they fly to sun?

The little hysterical WOOO! at the end may be one of the most nuanced crowd noises we’ve ever heard: part shame, part acceptance, and part ironic barbaric yawp. Whatever–they can tie weather balloons to pigs and let the recreational shooting crowd loose on them as long as Mississippi State keeps winning. Bowl-eligible means you can fly whatever you want over the stadium, even if it does sound like a motorized go-cart with wings.

A clarification: From reader Bulldog, who invites us to eat him.

That was our President, retired Air Force commander Gen. Robert H. “Doc” Foglesong. It is his Mississippi State biplane. He always buzzes over the stadium before the game. So eat me and the rest of the bulldog nation.

Their president buzzes the stadium in his own biplane? Is he a botanist/humanitarian with a penchant for archaeology, arctic exploration, and jujitsu? Does this man have limits, we ask?

We don’t have anything unkind to say about the Tennessee Volunteers; losing 59-20 to Florida in hellacious heat and noise on Saturday was unkind enough. (Why was Florida still throwing deep in the 4th quarter up by 20 plus? Because you were still on the field. This is Sparta.)

Instead, we wish to praise the one person we saw besides Rico McCoy working his asscheeks off for Tennessee: the Tennessee Water Boy.

Look at those perfect circles!

Not enough can really be said to praise the whirlwind diligence of the collective Tennessee hydration squad on Saturday. Prepping a team for the Dantean furnace of a full game in the Swamp is to the sideline support team what K2 is for a team of mountaineers: the ultimate challenge. Despite a full squad of players and coaches sweating a collective Lake Okechobee of perspiration in the spongy bermuda grass of Florida Field (on a day so mercilessly hot they ran out of Gatorade at the concessions stands on the student side of the stadium,) the Tennessee sideline crew not only lost no one due to cramping, but also managed to:

a.) Keep the cups in those perfect little circles the entire time. We’re not exaggerating. In between watching Tim Tebow throw balls through the chests of Tennessee defenders for long gains, we maintained a steady eye on those circles. Not ten seconds passed before the removal of a cup and the replacement of a cup. Obligatory comment by our brother-in-law Boridicus: a circle is the same shape as a donut, natch.

And b.) The Tennessee crew was moving fast enough to not only hydrate the whole team with the precision of a SEAL team knifing their way through a jungle encampment, but also hand out beverages to the Tennessee fans sitting in the first four rows. Of all the comments we heard on Saturday from Gator fans to Vol fans, two stick out: “Stay hydrated!” and of course, the obligatory “Fuck you!”

So 100 COCKTAILS TO YOU, Vol Hydration squad. Know that on a day of great loss for your team, you played like champions and others took note of your tireless efforts to make thirst your and the team’s bitch. Which it totally is.

Week’s two’s open thread reminds you that:

1. Your schedule: hyah.
2. Your therapy session: EDSBS Live. Sunday night, 7 p.m. EST to 9 p.m. EST.
3. Win or lose against Georgia, the OBC’s playing through, slowass. FORE!!! CLICK-CLACK!!!

Leave your thoughts below. We’ll talk to you Sunday night.

Begin.

The winner of this year’s Fulmer Cup for the Most Feloniously Frisky College Football Team is…

…Illinois, who rode the diligent efforts of Jody Ellis and Derrick McPhearson to victory in this year’s competition. (Yes, they were dismissed from the team. Good for them. But they were on the team at the time this happened.) This means the solid gold AK-47 Dennis Erickson Trophy Sponsored by Hosea Williams’ Bail Bonds Fulmer Cup Trophy now makes the long trip from Huntington, West Virginia to Champaign-Urbana, Illinois, where it will reside in a local Arby’s until next year’s competition.

Illinois went up by a huge score early and then fell into a soft zone, nearly allowing the competition to catch them (as Penn State nearly did.) This sounds familiar to anyone with an understanding of [NAME REDACTED]’s NFL-tested coaching philosophies. Yet Illinois got this on the cheap, we think–the points add up, but fine work by other programs deserves mention, as well.

The Ellis T. Jones Award Golden Taser for Individual Achievement goes to… Florida’s own Ronnie Wilson, who ensured that we’d get at least eighty annoying emails with the subject line “CHANGE THE NAME OF THE CUP, ASSHOLE” by firing off an AK-47 in downtown Gainesville, Florida. A nine-point offense pales in comparison to the award’s namesake, but sometimes merely discharging automatic weapons in front of horrified nightclub-goers is enough to get you the award.

The Golden Taser is yours, Ronnie. Use it well.

The Ben Siegert Award for most amusing arrest goes to Stephen Garcia, Gamecock rapscallion who keyed a visiting professor’s car in Columbia just weeks after arriving on campus and thus gave us this beautiful mug shot.

Chill, baby. Just chill.

With that, we feel obligated to mention that it, too, does not live up to stealing a gay sheep. Still, the Golden Ram With Leather Guy Hat goes to Mr. Garcia, who will be riding the bench for the Click Clacktacular one in Sakerlina this year.

Thanks as always to Brian, who maintained the board this year and is hung like Reggie Fuckin’ Nelson, and to the boys at SAS Wiki, who assisted with the scoring. Both were indispensable. Readers are owed thanks for their diligence as well: Tomek and Dave W. in particular deserve our thanks.

College football may have found its first great conceptual artist. Note that we said “conceptual artist,” since “Daniel Moore,” the Norman Rockwell of Alabama football history, rightfully claims the title for good ol’ fashioned, hang it next to the Olan Mills family portrait kind of art.

Chum, the conceptual artist who created the rave-fantasy video of the Kansas State mascot jamming like Macaulay Culkin in Party Monster, has outdone himself with this custom video for BearMeat. Really, if you’ve never done acid, you shouldn’t, because that shit takes for-eeeeevvver to wear off, and even the hallucinated sight of the walls bleeding gets mundane after eight hours.

Just watch this instead. It’s shorter, cheap as free, and frankly, a bit more powerful than LSD.

Massive hat tip to BearMeat.

EDSBS Live. Tuesday. 7:30 p.m.

Phil. Steele.

Note: buy Phil new t-shirt.

You are not ready.