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A few notes on the weekend to come:

1. Apologies for the lact of Factor Six Six Factoring. Real life has kept us unfortunately busy. This business would also explain the slow delivery of the Michael Lewis Interview, Part Two, which we'll go ahead and say will be a feature next Tuesday, since there will be much to review on Monday, especially if Florida wins and we can get our gloat on proper like.

2. If not, we'll resort to posting happy kitties.

3. EDSBS BARSITTING!!! Come what may, we will be hanging out with the EDSBS Board of Trustees this weekend, including our consigliere Weo Tai, kung fu master of tax law and official Shadowy Figure Of Intrigue coming into town. Come say hello to us and the assorted cast of EDSBS characters at The Brewhouse in Little Five Points, where we'll be watching the ACC Championship game and "preparing" for the game as of Noon-thirtyish on Saturday.

4. Go. Gators. Beat Arkansas by a point or thirty points--we do not care. We don't care if it takes a crippling, career-destroying fumble while running out the clock by Casey Dick, or an intercepted option pitch taken back for a 95-yard touchdown. We do not care if it involves making genetically modified humans illegal in the state of Georgia in shady midnight proclamations purchased at great cost from Sonny Perdue, effectively removing Darren McFadden, a.k.a. Humanity Advanced, from the game.

Most of all, turn Chris Leak loose. It's his last game with any real meaning. Let him pitch until his arm falls off. Let him run the two minute offense for a half. Allow him to craft the coda he so richly deserves, whatever it may be. With no run game to speak of, why not let your senior throw to seniors? (We heard that on the Urban Meyer show in between fits of narcolepsy induced by Meyer's comments. Perhaps some go-go dancers to lighten things up would help? And that's a nice tackle by Siler...GROOVY FREAK OUT TIME!)

He's been the battered mate of the abusive Florida fanbase for four long, hellacious years, taking blame for every half-assed effort, disappointment, and slight hiccup along the way without complaint.

We're more guilty than most. That's a matter of public record.

Since we've played the part of Ike Turner for years to Leak's Tina, and now that the end is near and we realize how cruel we've been, we want to say that we've fucked up royally. Like Sultan of the Universe-big royally. Even when we were nice to you, it just ended up going horribly wrong. Like that time with the cake, baby. We didn't know what we were doing, so hopped up on the speedy demon of your potential were we, so blistered by the fumbling of [NAME REDACTED.] We lashed out, and you were the first thing in our way. (Plus we couldn't see through those little John Lennon glasses everyone was wearing then.)

So know now that you were good, and we abused you, and that it was wrong, wrong, wrong. We're evil and insatiable. We're fans, and not particularly good ones at times. And we wish you nothing but the best in whatever comes next, even if it's a quiet career warming a bench in NFL Europe, a spot many Gator quarterbacks end up claiming. (Barcelona's nice, we've heard.) And when we call at 2 in the morning, we won't hate you for not answering, or even for enforcing the restraining order you'll take out against us on graduation. We know we deserve it, because we're evil, greedy fans, and no amount of therapy will cure it.

But don't tell the new guy any of this, okay? We're still in the honeymoon phase--the part where we can't blame him...yet. We don't want him thinking he's special or anything. He'll eat the cake just like everyone else since Shane Matthews. But go beat Arkansas first. Then we'll sign the papers and let you go solo without so much as a whimper.