We wish we had been home-schooled. Home-schooled kids get this great leash length normal kids don’t get on their behavior: flapping your arms after winning national spelling bees, engaging in hobbies like playing the bassoon without getting said instrument shoved up your ass after school, being a creationist without having your teacher flunk you.

Taking your dad to football practice might have to be added to this list after we read this editorial in the Alligator about Tim Tebow’s father and his involvement with the program. Student editorials sometimes read like little test-tube Colberts wagging fingers they just discovered at the end of their hands, and this one’s no exception.

Bob is so fanatical about making sure his son succeeds, he doesn’t even have time to talk to this writer after practice, saying he has to “talk to my son about what he needs to do.”

Supposition + assumption + snub of reporter/ youthful indignation= wag wag wag!

Deep in that jungle of wag is a nugget of truth: Tim Tebow’s dad is at every practice. All of ‘em. And that’s kind of weird, frankly, for a father to express such attachment for a son. It’s almost un-American, dammit. Why can’t Bob Tebow just give him a stack of McDonald’s gift certificates, a loaded gun, and a 20 dollar bill before dropping him off at the bus terminal like everyone else’s dad when he turns 18?

Makes ‘em strong: Tebow’s dad should consider following more traditional American parenting practices.

In its quest to become a top flight football program, Maryland has sold its stadium naming rights to Chevy Chase. In addition to the $20 Million bucks, the team will be supplied with an endless amount of back pills.

Sporting his Maryland colors.

Don helped us move the whole damn site to a new server-all the posts, the EDSBS pool table, the codes, the autographed Smokey and the Bandit 2 freestanding liquor store promo piece…yeah, the whole damn thing, actually. When we say that we “helped,” we mean only in the same sense that you “helped” your parents discover a motivation to go to work for fear of starvation.

Don, noble guy that he is, asked for only one form of payment: a post giving all the reasons USC-the University of Southern California-is superior to the University of Florida. Don, the bill is past due, so here’s the fifteen reasons USC kicks Florida’s ass.

Fifteen Reasons USC Is Better Than Florida.

1. Legendary Running Backs. While UF grad and running back Emmitt Smith has cashed in his dignity and possibly his man-permit by appearing on Dancing With the Stars, famous Trojan O.J. Simpson has held on to his killer instinct in retirement, slashing through golf courses, cutting across different multimedia ventures with zeal, and knifing through the morass of middle age with aplomb.

Hasn’t lost his edge.

2. Mascot name association.

Gators: prehistoric killing machine, horrible swampy death, bad pimp shoes.

Trojans: illicit sex with someone you can’t trust enough to share fluids with.

Advantage: Trojans

3. The University of Florida currently boasts the most alumni in congress of any university in the nation. USC doesn’t. Advantage: USC.

4. USC: located in the heart of Los Angeles. UF: located in heart of Gainesville, once known as “Hoggetowne.” Advantage: USC.

5. Will Ferrell, USC grad. Will Ferrell, motherfuckers. Eat that, UF grad Bob Vila.

6. USC alum Frank Gehry’s spiky, curvaceous buildings double as architectural wonders and as convenient bottle openers in a pinch.

Stirring. Revolutionary. And can pop the top off a Coors Light 40 in two seconds.

7. USC’s band wears body armor, which is soooo totally metal.

8. USC’s band also never did this:

[NAME REDACTED] didn’t fit?

9. Florida never had George Tirebiter as their unofficial mascot.

The late, great George Tirebiter.

10. USC students may attend home games without fear of heat stroke, dehydration, or “jort burn,” a condition caused by wet jean friction common among Florida fans.

11. Proximity to adult film industry allows USC dropouts a quick and convenient fallback plan. Florida dropouts, in contrast, must go to work at the battery plant in Alachua, an alternative that makes gay porn sound like a viable and appealing career option.

12. Trojans mascot Traveller stands proudly on sidelines as noble alabaster symbol of campus pride. Florida’s mascot rolls in swamp muck, lives mostly on carrion, and cannot possibly be handled safely in a crowd. Advantage: USC.

13. Song girls.

See? Stranko’s not the only one capable of posting cheesecake.

14. Pete Carroll’s hairdo: an eighty dollar masterpiece of carefully constructed, devil-may-care man-plumage. Urban Meyer’s: Fantastic Sam’s three minute restaurant manager’s special protected by centimeter-thick glaze of hair gel. Advantage: USC.

In L.A., hair matters.

15. Divine judgment category: despite being total dick to teammates on three different teams, God rewards Trojan great Keyshawn Johnson with lucrative NFL contracts, a fling with Serena Williams. Despite piety and outstanding work with poor urban youth, God sends Danny Wuerffel to the Saints, kicks him out of the NFL after a mediocre career, and then destroys his house with Hurricane Katrina. Conclusion: God likes USC better. Advantage: USC.

Take that, Mr. Heisman.

There you go, Don. Thanks for all the help. Now we’re going to go light some candles to our shrine to Kerwin Bell, since we’re pretty sure Jack Youngblood’s on the way over here to kick our ass as we speak. Hope you enjoyed it.

Willie Williams has enrolled at West Los Angeles College. His new coach, Craig Austin, coaches football as a part-time job when he’s not working his eighteenth year as an L.A. County Sheriff’s deputy. Willie Williams now plays for a sheriff.

That. Is. All.

Can’t…move…irony…too…strong…

The House Rock Built makes a fine podcast, or “prodcast” as he calls it towards the end of the discussion. Nathan from Golden Tornado reveals that he’s not an engineering major-gasp!-and Irish Outsider discusses Trev Alberts’ fascination with Oregon Trail. It’s not that Trev doesn’t understand computers; they just frighten and confuse him.

Trev, for the love of god, don’t.