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SUGAR BOWL LIVEBLOG, FIRST QUARTER

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Orson, 7:55 p.m.: Welcome to the Sugar Bowl liveblog. In Fox's Manichean world, we are forced to choose between Regis Philbin and James Carville tonight. We're sticking with the squinty Cajun Gollum if we have to choose.


Regis: creepy.

PB, 7:57 p.m.: Damnit, I'm on West Coast time. Which means I have to do math to post my timestamp. The 20 ounces of whiskey in my right hand wonder whether this will prove problematic. On the upside, I'm eating IN-N-OUT. You win some, you lose some.

OS: 8:00 p.m.: The starspangledanthmepalooza begins. If there's any such thing as progress, we'll all be singing "America, Fuck Yeah!" at bowl games in fifty years.

PB, 8:02 p.m.: Better yet - Trey Parker and Matt Stone calling the broadcast. Carrtman voice: "Aaaaand... Quinn is sacked. Quinn. Is. A. Pussy."

OS, 8:06 p.m.: I just want to say that we think Bill Parcells actually does hang out in tollbooths at night. It just seems right.

For the record, I'll go ahead and predict Notre Dame's getting turned into tasty andouille tonight.

PB, 8:08 p.m.: I'd might as well make my official prediction, too: Howie Long's acting career gets revived... starting tonight. I expect big things.

OS, 8:12 p.m.: If the crowd is singing along to the LSU fight song, the lyrics are: WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

PB, 8:16 p.m.: One more thought on Guys I'd Like To See In The Booth: since we're gonna see two hundred ads for 24 tonight, can we just note how great it would be to have Jack Bauer calling one of these games? Or coaching? "TACKLE THE BALL CARRIER, DAMNIT!!" "TELL ME WHERE THE PLAYBOOK IS!!"

OS, 8:19: We're all for bringing Andy Dick into the booth, if only to watch him successfully seduce Terry Bradshaw. "I'm just so lonely, Andy..."

PB, 8:23 p.m.: For the record, O - I'm not going to make a single Charlie Weis fat joke tonight. I'm just not gonna do it.

OS, 8:28 p.m.: We're pros. We don't need the training wheel stuff.

Did you see Les Miles give Jeannie Zelasko the stinkeye when she touched him? We guess Mrs. Miles carries a brick in her purse.

Dennis Haysbert, who has no connection to this game at all, comes in and graces us with his velvet thundery voice for the coin toss. Fox hates you. Though I would always like my name to be associated with the words "THE UNIT," wouldn't you?

PB, 8:30 p.m.: This depresses me, but - look at this. It's Les Miles.

OS, 8:36 p.m.: Reverse to white wideout against LSU. Sure.

PB, 8:39 p.m.: That was a 9 play, 15 yard drive. This strikes me as a poor way to attack LSU.

PB, 8:40 p.m.: Charlie Weis is a genius.

OS, 8:47 p.m.: Jamarcus Russell's hugeness is indescribable. You could roll fine, wide-gauge cigars in the creases of his skull.

PB, 8:51 p.m.: Can one of you SEC folks explain to me the pom pom phenomenon? How the hell did this happen?

OS, 8:54 p.m.: They're not pom-poms, according to Paul Westerdawg. They're shakers. Pom-poms have handles, shakers have sticks to stir your drink. I think both are unmanly.

OS, 8:58 p.m. ND gets another personal foul. Why? Are they trying to drop the choirboy image like when Kobe became the post-rape charge Black Mamba? Or Mc Hammer when he just became "Hammer" and wore a speedo? It's not convincing.

OS, 9:00. JESUS JAMARCUS IS RUNNING GET A TRANQ DART!!! NO! GET FIVE!!!

PB, 9:01 p.m.: The Ent strikes again. Would you honestly draft Brady Quinn over The Ent? I wouldn't.

OS, 9:03: Jamarcus Russell must be too large to transport via jet or bus. They probably just floated him in the Mississippi, put the team bus on him, and floated him down to the Big Easy.

PB, 9:05: There is, of course, no reason for ND fans to give up hope. Charlie Weis may not be a genius, but Les Miles is most certainly an idiot.

OS, 9:07: Howie long not only whips out the "deceptively fast" tag, but says Samarkdinsldkjfa is Loooooong. So loooooong. (Giggle.)

PB, 9:10: I love watching football with my Dad. During the last break, he says, exhaustedly, "You can tell everything about American society from the commercials. The fascists in the country are truck drivers. The pussy whipped are the beer drinkers. Marketing isn't complicated, obviously."

OS, 9:13 p.m: Quinn throws into velcro coverage for a TD. Notre Dame only mildly doomed at this point.

OS, 9:17 p.m.: Don't ask us why we know this, but something in our soul tells us Terry Bradshaw will go home after this, crack out a gallon of lowfat frozen yogurt, and go to sleep weeping gusts of tears into it.

ND forces a Jamarcus fumble, toppling the tree. They take over at the break. End liveblog, first quarter. NDNation, step away from the noose.