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Every day should be Saturday.

This is true for a few reasons: First off, we don't do anything with the rest of the week. To wit:

Mondays: hung over.

Tuesdays: thinking about dinner. Hmm...dinner

Wednesdays: weeping softly.

Thursdays: Scattergories, anyone?

Friday: caught thinking about Saturday.

Sunday: Meet the Press, followed by Bourbon Pancakes. Later we ditch the pancakes altogether.

Second, we really like Saturday because that's the day most college football games occur. People who don't get paid for their work (unless you're a Buckeye) running around in coordinated, team-based schemes attempting to work for the length of one hour to outscore the other. It's so wholesome, passionate, and supremely American, isn't it?

Actually, it would sound like some serious Bolshie shit to me, pardner, if I didn't know how damn good it actually was. And in all seriousness, if we didn't have it, half of us would be left with the porn, gin, and weekend trips to Biloxi that get us through the rest of the year.
Third, Saturday is the truly a balanced day. No set time to wake up by, since you're off...and no real time to wake up, either, since you've got Sunday ahead of you.

(I know, some of you go to church. And some of us sit at home, so stick it, Flanders. When I'm roasting you can talk. 'Till then I'm watching the Sports Reporters, silently willing Mike Lupica's head to explode and nursing a Bloody Mary.)

And there's the best reason to watch college football: lunacy. Fans root for teams named after animals that would, in the wild, devour them and hang their limbs from trees as garland. The alcohol content at games would make a Scottish soccer fan wince, and the weather could be anything from steambath monsoon in Gainesville to howling wintry hell in...wherever they have that snow crap. No matter the weather, they play.

(Apologies: I'm an SEC guy. Totally clueless on snow. I'd run screaming, fly my American flag upside down, and set my house on fire if I ever saw more than three inches of it.)

And did I mention the traditions? The run down the hill at Clemson...the kickass USC Trojan Band, complete with armor-clad drum major and giggle-inducing phallic symbol...waking up the ghosts (and the fans) at Notre Dame...the festive pregame stoning of the infidel at's all too much for a single nation, really.

It's also too much for a single forum, too. So don't expect serious news, credible sources, or detailed analysis. Expect juvenile humor-seriously, there aren't enough jokes about the USC Trojans-and plenty of cheap shots at those who deserve it, the editors and writers included. Go somewhere else for the prime rib-we're strictly Chee-tos and Miller High Life for the time-killing set stuck at work.

And in conclusion, let me say: welcome.

-The Editor, 2.10.05