Penn State is having their “PSU Fan Rap Contest,” meaning they want Penn State fans and students to submit their own original compositions honoring Nittany Lion football. If you’ve watched Snowman’s video embedded above, you know that the contest is a foregone conclusion. (Hot finger snappin’ death: he’s got enough to go ’round, h8ers. SNAP. DIE.)

The best two aren’t actually bad. There’s Kake, who tells you he’s a rapper by drinking grape soda on camera, and Intrepid, who has the best balance of being task-focused (raps about PSU and gets the theme) and says of Joe Paterno: “dude’s been in more bowls than a spoon,” which is a cocktail-worthy line in any work. Neither of them snap semi-rhythmically, though, and that’s what’s gonna cost them in the end.

No one has taken advantage of the obvious “Zombie” sample, yet, but we encourage those who would like to do this to go ahead and do it. If you dress up as Joe Paterno and eat people dressed up as Jim Tressel and Patrick Fitzgerald, we’ll throw the full weight of our voting bloc behind your submission. Doubt the electoral power of Mingovia at your own risk, auslander.

(HT: BSD)

Hello, friend! I haven’t dropped you a line in a month ah Sundays! Howza the ah-spaghetti, paisano!

I just fuhst wanted to congratulate you on yah recent contract extension. If you spent money on the good thangs in lahfe–the plantations, the civil wah books, and the 18 part “The Real Vietnam”, you’d undahstand what to do with it instead ah givin’ it back to that leech of an employah you have. What have they evah done fah you, Joe, besides sign a coupla checks? You gotta considah your interests, you gotta considah your interests, that’s all i’m saying.

(Obscured and sloppy scribbling where Bowden fell asleep drooling on the page.)

Whe-yuh was ah? I say, I say, ah just wanted to finally shayuh the secret of my success with youuuu. Ah know as rivals we often play it close to the ve-yust, but ah think aftah yeahs of competition ah can shayuh the key to mah longevity.

In a single wuhd:

CIGARETTES.

Ah’ve been smokin’ um fuh yeahs, and theyuh invigoratin’ flavah and stimulating effect on the mahnd and body have kept me younger than mah peeers for decades now. That little hip problem you have? 16-24 of these a day, and you’ll outlahst me fa sho, son! Affordable, safe, and healthy. Ah wouldn’t lie to ya!

Gonna go on mah daily 28 mile run befo a bit ah recruitin’, Joe. May our Lord and Savyah Jesus Christ look oveh yah, even if you are a disciple of the Whore of Babylon, the Catholic Church. You’re half right, at least.

Three behind ya!

Bobby

P.S. The delicious and healthful cigahhrettes are available at any local gas station or convenience store.

P.P.S. Ah have enclosed a photo of myself from my most recent daguerrotype. I’m definitely ahead of you on the handsome side ah things, if ah do say so mahself!

The Sporting Blog. Not only does it have our interview with Ric Flair, but it will have our posts on what Vegas during the first weekend of March Madness looks, feels, smells, and feels like, including the part where we wind up drinking $2000/bottle cognac from goatskins with the sheikhs of Dubai at a live man versus panther death match in the hills of Nevada.

Step One, this. Step Two, fire up laptop. Step three: MASSIVE PROFITS.

Flickr. I’ll be posting photos live from the fracas, as well, so keep up by following here.

Twitter. For those too ADDled to even get through this blog post, we’ll be posting on the EDSBS Twitter feed muy rapido all day and most of the night.

Your guest host will be Oops Pow Surprise from Black Heart, Gold Pants , a demented gent who promises to not only provide the Curious Index, but an installment of “Things Black and Gold People Like,” the latest in our series of fan profiles. We will usurp the Iowa jokes by saying the only one we know for sure: meth.

Godspeed. And wish the same to us. If we fail to come back from this mission, know that we went to bat country happily.

Their names were shouted in exultation or bellowed in impotent rage across the SEC in 2007. You know their stats by heart, lived and died with their triumphs and tears. But in this age of bioweapons and nuclear experiments gone horribly awry, there are more important matters to ponder; namely, how each of these college football notables will aid your survival when the wrong red button is pressed and the zombie hordes rise to enslave us all. You’ll need the best of the best (SEC speed = fast zombies). The essential personnel:

Rich Brooks thinks the undead hordes are bullshit. This will not save him.

The Buffoon Who Got You Into This Mess: Michael Henig, QB, Mississippi State
How He’ll Save The Day: When jumping from rooftop to rooftop to reach the river/gun store/barricades, will carry the season to its logical conclusion by mistiming the flinging of his own form and being intercepted, so to speak, by a less than sturdy awning. As he is tugged with agonizing slowness from the canvas, the undead hordes will fall upon his flesh, allowing you to escape.

The Decoy: Blake Mitchell, QB, South Carolina
How He’ll Save The Day: Will be assigned as lookout while the rest of the party stocks up on ammunition/canned goods/fuel, and upon seeing an approaching zombie attack party, will inexplicably fancy himself a hero and run outside, waving his arms and capering about to distract them long enough for our heroes to lock and load and hop into an appropriately sized truck. The undead hordes are not amused by dancing, and will fall upon his flesh, allowing you to escape.

The Cloyingly Self-Effacing Hero: Erik Ainge, QB, Tennessee
How He’ll Save The Day: Sneaking past the gibbering masses in the dead of night, will slip on a discarded shotgun shell and break both legs in the fall. Will implacably insist on not being carried because He’ll Only Slow You Down, and will accept no comfort—but does gather all remaining grenades. After the explosion, the hordes will fall upon his flesh and the flesh of their shredded comrades, allowing you to escape.

The Hothead: Knowshon Moreno, RB, Georgia
How He’ll Save The Day: With tears in his eyes and an unearthly battle howl in his throat, by completely losing his shit and barreling into the penultimate wave of zombies at full force, ripping and tearing their limbs with his bare hands. A valiant effort, but the thing about zombies is there’s always Just Too Many. The undead hordes will fall upon his flesh, allowing you to escape.

The Shrewish Love Interest: Colt David, K, LSU
How He’ll Save The Day: After spending the entire ordeal displaying gradually more obvious signs of crumbling and generally slowing everyone down, will drop to his knees shortly into the sprint over open ground to safety, wailing that It’s Hopeless and We’ll Never Make It. The undead hordes will fall upon his flesh, allowing you to escape.

The Cheap Shot You Don’t See Coming: Kyle Jackson, S, Florida
How He’ll Save The Day: As you stagger over the final hill between your sleepy little borough and the haven of the convenient nearby military base/open sea/arms of Orgeron, will burst inexplicably into flames and fall in a shrieking, ineffectual heap at the crest of the ridge. Cold and raw or sizzling in the skull—brains is brains is brains to a zombie. The undead hordes will fall upon his flesh, allowing you to escape. Fade to black.

T-Tubb, if he can get his boys to aim those chop blocks at the neck, might stand a chance.