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Delays ironed out and the server is up and running. Caffeine and anger=not good, currently injecting self with thorazine to stabilize manic blogger. Bystanders: HORRIFIED.

I'm the coach of your team, whoever it is.

Dave Wannstedt does not know what team he coaches. This is the only logical conclusion one can come to reading these remarks from his press conference this week regarding Cincinnati's opportunistic defense this year and Pitt's defense's puzzling lack of turnovers created in 2007:

Hey, their (Cincy's) offense is doing great and scoring a lot of points, but it all ties together," Wannstedt said. "It truly does. You look at [their] game against Navy. "Navy turns it over three times and throws two interceptions in the end zone. Is that the difference in the game? Maybe. That's how we can help our offense, come up with some turnovers on defense."

Borrow some turnovers from another defense--it's an innovative strategy, one only a mind fresh from the NFL could possibly invent. College kochez r sooo stoopid!

Dress your best with Steve Spurrier. The State has their own Flash sensation going in the Steve Spurrier Fashion Review, complete with dressable doll and sound bites.

Florida State v. Miami will not be nationally televised for the first time since the Spanish Influenza was the hot fashion accessory of the day. Weep quietly for exactly three seconds, college football fan, and then stand in amazement that it took this long for tv types to realize both programs were suffering from serious structural problems. Also: the three Daves of Lincoln Financial, home of the $35.89 broadcast budget, get a crack at a sacred nailgun-fight of a game with Tennessee at Alabama.

The game will not be broadcast in HD, which has ruined our eyes for lesser video standards in football--what was once acceptable quality now looks like watching a game through a dirty aquarium. For making the purchase of a television that costs as much as a new car inevitable: fuck you, HD.

Who says you shouldn't jump into bed with young men? It's one of the tactics that's worked like mad for maddish USF coach Jim Leavitt.

"He was recruiting in the area, and he came in and jumped in my bed and was like, 'Get up, go lift weights!'" Jenkins said, laughing. "I thought, 'Oh God, I'm never going to get away from him.'"

If you're wondering what it's like spending the evening at the Swindle household and waking up on the air mattress, it is exactly like this, but with dogs and sirens involved.

Kentucky, you're going to get your ass kicked in one way: with dance. Derrick, the current Florida drum major, will slay you with his fourth-quarter rhythms. Seduce you first? Of course. Kill you afterwards? Well, really, after you've had Derrick, there's no one else you want or require.

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