Part Two of the Golden Unicycle Diaries, a highly digressive discussion between Orson and Peter Bean of Burnt Orange Nation.
We discuss the remaining bowls of the early bowl season, and wonder out loud if Dennis Erickson will make it out of Hawaii and ever coach a game at Arizona State. Features stunning Fark of Erickson jumping into volcano on golf cart.
Part one is below. Read it if you dare.
"This might end before it starts."
Enjoy.
OS: Sheraton Hawaii Bowl. Arizona State and Hawaii.
PB: Now that has a nice ring to it.
OS: I love hotel sponsored bowls. Make me think of overbleached towels and ten dollar porn movies.
PB: Do we get our first shot of Dennis Erickson, mai tai in hand, two hot hawaiian babes on each arm?
OS: Switch the number of drinks and women.
PB: This may end before it begins. Right there in Hawaii.
PB: Berman and Erickson playing golf, getting wasted, a sexual assault. WOOP!
OS: Dennis Erickson drives equipment cart into volcano.
OS: Dennis Erickson goes on whale watch, attempts to beat up blue whale, devoured with camelback full of hobo wine still strapped to his back.
OS: OMG I am so glad he's coaching again.
PB: Your job as writer just got so much better.
OS: Hawaii has to play in ...Hawaii. June Jones must have been a dung beetle in his past life.
OS: Wait--he had to coach Jeff George. That explains a lot.
PB: No wonder he quit and went to Hawaii. Said, "F it. Let's just throw the ball. Over and over. If it doesn't work out, screw it. We're in Hawaii. Hawaii!"
OS: He gets paid six figures a year to coach wackyball in hawaii.
PB: Best job in America.
OS: No shit.
PB: That's so not America. That's manifest destiny + a lot.
OS: Hey, it gave us Magnum. Therefore I have no regrets for our imperial lust.
PB: Oh I'm not complaining. We should kept Japan while we could.
OS: Nah. Hello Kitty might have taken over our country, too.
OS: Kitty's really in charge of everything over there, you know.
PB: Or Dance Dance Revolution.
OS: Kitty's buying skyscrapers. Ordering Yakuza killings. Demanding stranger, more disturbing porn each day.
PB: I think Junichiro may have a sketchy porn past. That guy's hair...
OS: It's actually tasty, nutritious seaweed.
PB: And Papa John pizza oil at night.
Tasty seaweed. yum.
OS: Over/under on a Hawaii/ASU game?
PB: 80. No defense, plus high offense, plus "Screw it, we're all in Hawaii" = 80+
OS: I'm saying 90. Seriously.
PB: Hmm...
OS: It's Hawaiian state law. You only thought it was the pro bowl.
OS: They actually can't blitz, per hawaiian tribal law.
PB: Is that why they all go to USC?
OS: Yep. Defense isn't their strong point. But don't tell Captain James Cook that! Wocka wocka!
OS: Colonial death humor--the best.
PB: I think you were headed for a Pearl Harbor joke.
OS: No. If I can make an Enlightenment-era reference, I will.
OS: It's my default. I'm endlessly amused by the thought of sweating malarial Englishmen dying strange deaths because they were too bored to stay at home.
PB: "So Thomas Jefferson walks into a bar..." Is this how you serenaded TCOAN?
OS: Oh, yeah. I told her I was a Liberal.
OS:...a Jeremy Bentham Liberal.
PB: "You're... you're.. a utilitarian!" (blushes)
OS: Just like that. Our first date was a John Stuart Mill scrapbooking party.
OS: Next! Motor City Bowl.
PB: Ah, meaningful football in Detroit in December!
PB: Oh, wait. No.
OS: This game makes me cold just watching it. Used to depress the fuck out of me when they played it in the Silverdome. Dingy turf. Blue, moldy light.
PB: Ford Field is the bomb.
OS: Really?
PB: Girlfriend's dad has a luxury box there. So, it might've just been the free scotch.
OS: It didn't hurt. It never does (sip)
PB: Dennis?
PB: Wait, you didn't gulp.
Spencer: GERONIMO!!! (plunges golf cart into Kilauea.)
PB: funniest visual image i've had in weeks
OS: No shit. I'm taking a lap around the apt after that one.
PB: Have a chug of scotch, too. You're enfuego.
OS: In my Dennis Erickson hellcart.
PB: Man - in two sessions we've (you've) nailed the golden uni and the DE hellcart. If nothing else came of this, those make it worthwhile
OS: Coaches + absurd transport = PLATINUM, lawya.
PB: Some other time - when we're liquored up, we should create vehicles for all the
coaches.
OS: Mike Leach--Amphicar, like the one LBJ used to have.
PB: June Jones - bareback on a perfect 10.
OS: Rich Brooks: riding a burro and whipping it with an unrolled clothes hanger.
PB: Charlie Weis on a really, really little moped.
OS: NO--the minibikes those fat bearded twins in the Guiness Book used to ride.
OS: RIP.
OS: They had these awesome fat tires.
PB: The pictures in that book. The fat section, anyway. Just amazing. Blew my 10 year old mind out of the water.
OS: Fulmer saw the future, and dove for it headfirst. Into a swimming pool of frosting.
OS: Okay, home stretch. Must concentrate.
OS: (damn you hobo wine.)
PB: WOOP!
PB: Okay, emerald bowl
OS: For my pleasure...who's playing in this bowl?
PB: UCLA and florida state. Race to 3 points?
OS: That's Florida State University, right? In the Emerald Bowl.
OS: The Emerald Bowl.
PB: This isn't Emerald nuts, right?
OS: Oh, one and the same.
PB: Serious?
OS: Yes. But I just want to type this.
OS: Florida is playing in the national title game. Florida State is playing in the Chan Gailey bowl.
OS: (Drives hellcart into Kiluea WOOOOOO!!!!)
PB: There's some real humor to be had here:
OS: Even
Momma
Evinced
Real
Agony
Lettingyoucoachthis
Damnedoffense
PB: I'm thinking that little druid guy is Bobby Bowden when he hits the crazy old person home
PB: Still thinking he's coaching. Making faux phone calls.
OS: Talking to his fruit cup.
OS: "Jeffy, jump ball!"
PB: Do you think Drew Weatherford's mother is embarrassed yet?
PB: Like, when she gets together with her Chatty Cathys, they don't even bring it up? No "How's Drew doing?" conversations
OS: AH!
Even
Midgets
Eventually
Run
And
Level
Drew.
OS: Woo-hah!
PB: Hot damn!
OS: I hate them with my toenails. Do you hate Oklahoma like this?
OS: Like, Bob Stoops falls into a tree shredder. Does a small, horrible part of you break out the conga line?
PB: I hate Oklahoma like this. Probably more.
PB: I almost got sued by a bitchy Sooner this year.
OS: You are a king among fans, then.
PB: For posting a poster of her 10 year old child crying at the Texas game.
OS: His tears gave you great joy, didn't they? Seriously.
OS: You thought about catching them and drinking them for strength.
PB: They did. I burst into laughter. His sadness brought me strength. Sort of a Dark Side - Jedi thing.
OS: I'm like Michael Palin in A Fish Called Wanda for FSU. When Jamie Lee Curtis looks at Kevin Kline and says "He was beaten as a child,"
OS: I smile and mutter, "Good."
PB: You're a good fan, Orson. A good fan. Although you can't be happy about having Cowslut Sterger on your site right now.
OS: Visual penicillin required. But the Subcommandante commands it.
PB: Not that she does FSU any favors...
OS: No, and that's the greatest part of it. Florida's represented babewise by Erin Andrews.
OS: They get Melanoma Skanklet.
OS: It's life. The math works out.
PB: I wish I could recall that terrific phrase Ian (Sexy Results! Ian) used on her.
OS: Leathery funbags were mentioned.
PB: I believe Brian railed on her "faux lesbianism" - which made me laugh.
OS: Okay--ritalin think ritalin--PetroSun Independence Bowl!
OS: Shreveport!
OS: Lemsday!
PB: Zero real coaches!
OS: Is Gundy out?
PB: He's another Les Miles. Don't really count.
OS: I've lost count. I'm the shellshocked translator in the WW2 movie.
OS: "Coker?" "Gone, soldier."
OS: "Shula?" "Him, too."
OS: "Jesus, gimme a lucky strike." Either that or someone "slaps me for my own good."
OS: Not enough of that anymore.
PB: Bunch of sissies these days. Like... say... Mal Moore! "Fire everybody!"
OS: I would like to restate that I am not interested in the head coaching job at Alabama. But I am totally willing to take the Okie State U job.
PB: You've not been to Stillwater, I see.
OS: Doesn't matter. I could burn T Boone's money for warmth. And shoot peasants shot out of a catapult in my spare time.
PB: I want him to parachute into the game.
OS: This is a peanutty asslog of a game. No--those are memorable.
PB: The best part about the T Boone story is when they interview faculty at the university. You get some delightful quotes.
PB: "Well, we're teaching English out of an asbestos factory, but... um... pok 'em Cowboys!"
OS: Liberal arts are overrated these days, anyway.
PB: You can't win football games with purty words anywaya.
OS: Unless that pretty word is "LEMSDAY."
PB: That brings us to the Pacific Life Holiday Bowl. Which I'll be attending, btw.
OS: I'm sure this thrills you.
PB: I go every year. Annual tradition.
OS: Back to Whale's Vagina.
PB: This used to be the best named bowl, pre-sponsorship.
OS: The Holiday Bowl, right?
PB: You could only top it with something happier. Like if they had a Pinwheel Bowl.
OS: The Kickass Bowl. No! The Puppy Bowl.
PB: There you go. The Puppy Bowl. Something light and fluffy and adorable. Holidays: yay!
PB: Now? We've got a freaking sponsored bowl and an army of Aggies about to descend on San Diego. Where's Mike Leach?!
OS: He's in the booth setting Sean McDonough's coat on fire, right? (Why couldn't it be Joe Buck, dammit? Why?)
PB: I'll double the price to get him calling the Aggie game.
OS: Have him run on the field with a super soaker, blasting the corps of cadets with collie urine. "Yaaaarrrrr!!!"
OS: Cal's not the most motivated team in the Holiday Bowl.
PB: Cal's in a bigger rut than Ted Danson.
OS: (That's a rut, dammit.)
OS: You might remember them getting boarded and keelhauled by Leach's Pirate Trainees here.
PB: It's a standard Big 12 talking point, absolutely.
OS: Cal: we're so the next big thing. Nobel Prize! TT: Yarr, nerds. Yarr.
PB: Rooting for Tech is easy. Leach rocks. Rooting for A&M is hard.
OS: It's Frantastic! As a fan of tits--assuming here--you have to root for Fran.
PB: That guy was born in a rut.
OS: That's a harsh thing to say about his mother. Did she date Wilt Chamberlain, perhaps? Or Milton Berle?
OS: Brasky, dammit. It's always Brasky.
PB: Vince Young?
OS: His penis being so huge it exists in several decades at once? Perhaps.
PB: I've heard stranger things about Vince, believe it or not. From sober people, no less.
OS: Merrill Hoge, for example?
PB: You nailed it. He and Charley Casserley both.
OS: And that brings us to a fitting conclusion: the Texas Bowl K-State: do they suck?
PB: Yes.
OS: I kept hearing how balls-out dumb Ron Prince was. But then they beat someone big.....hmm...
PB: Only slightly less dumb than Texas' free safety!
OS: Whhhooooshah!
OS: BOOM!
PB: Rutgers: most pooped on team of this young century?
OS: No. That would be Notre Dame.
PB: Whale bowels.
OS: I'm convinced they're put in bowl games they will lose horribly by design.
PB: Yes, it's awful that they get relegated to the BCS every year. They're screwed by that silly BCS contract.
OS: Hmm...who''ll actually disembowel them, cut them to shreds, and make knockwurst of them on the field...LSU!!!
PB: This is the matchup of the bowl season, by the way - and we'll have to save it for later. But... beat nobody Notre Dame versus Les Miles. OUT-standing
PB: Who can suck more?
OS: You do realize they have an Ent at qb. A real live fifty foot talking tree.
Meet our friend Jamarcus. He wants your bike.
OS: He goes to Daunte Culpepper's house and steals his bike daily.
PB: If i could have any imaginary character in fiction, i would want an ent.
OS: I would name him JaMarcus. I think Rutgers kicks the shit out of Kansas State, for the record.
PB: I do too. Leonard's gonna plow some ass. And I mean that the good way.
OS: Well, as a policy we can't support the unsolicited plowing of ass. Unless it's Dennis Erickson on a bender attacking Chris Berman
OS: Then we support state subsidy of this activity, and perhaps an agency devoted to it.
OS: BTW, has there been any team historically who had offenses geared to retard their qbs than K-State?
PB: Hrmm...
OS: Every game I've ever watched their quarterback makes plays that result in brain cells visibly flying from their ears. "Hold the ball, son. For days, if necessary."
PB: We had some good momentum in Michigan State until Smith was let go.
OS: Don't forget Tom O'Brien.
PB: There's your winner.
OS: Matt Ryan was like Jesus going through the stations of the cross this year. Or Wiliam Wallace in the last ten minutes of Braveheart.
PB: NC State must be stoked. Eight wins: within reach!
OS: That would be progress. But O'Brien's never gonna have sweet tater tits like Amato, though.
PB: Exactly. And why get a guy with such a disappointing ceiling when you can get tater tits?
OS: All right, we came up a bit short. But we'll finish up next week.