A little less than 24 hours shy of an Auburn/West Virginia showdown that, records be damned, has us musket-firin’ excited, we give you a mustache fit for the Coal Belt: the smoldering Tommy Seebach, Danish organ genius and the man behind the oft-sampled cover of “Apache.”
Håppy Mustæche Wednesday, møtherfuckers!
To see Seebach’s sexy dancing and Scandinavians pretending to be Apache War Maidens, click the jump.
Graham Watson writes that the Weis/Willingham feud is soooooo 2005. Agreed. Washington football’s all about meticulous lawncare in 2008.
As someone who got married far too young for his spouse’s or his own good: please, Casey Dick and the future Mrs. Dick: don’t do it yet. (Mrs. Dick: reason for pause alone there.)
Oh, sure the site’s cute and all, right down to the story of how they met and how the future Mrs. Dick’s “ear fetish” drew her irresistibly toward the Arkansas quarterback like some kind of fleshy wrinkled tractor beam.
…but don’t do it. You know about as much about yourself at 22 as you do about the nation of Namibia: it’s there, you’ve seen pictures of it and perhaps a few maps, and you imagine that it probably exists and has a few odd beasts in it. In your twenties, you’ll actually go to Nambia, and discover that it is full of beasts, has very few resources, and is mostly empty space. If you’re married, surprise! You get to share that disappointment with someone else discovering much the same thing at the same time, only with the omnipresent pressure of keeping the lights on simultaneously bearing down on you or, should you have a career crisis or mental breakdown of sorts, on your spouse.
(That is a statement made by someone who’s somehow still married to the person they married at a young age, a feat made possible through the patience and accomplishments of the author’s spouse, and most definitely not the author.)
So, to review: don’t get married before 25 at the least, kids. It’s dumb, even if you are second in the SEC in passing yardage.
Of all the unholy things our eyeballs never need nor want to see, this would be in the top ten. We didn’t know it would be in the top ten, but lo! it was said, and it appeared right there. Courtesy of the suddenly off-the-cuff John Chavis:
He had this to say about being afraid, drawing chuckles from around the room: “I can’t wear my wife’s dress right now … but if I ever get afraid, I’m just going to stay at home and probably start cross-dressing.”
And suddenly, we realize we liked him better when he didn’t talk and give us erection-killing images for the ages. But we don’t judge, John. You could probably actually coach in a dress right now and escape all scrutiny: the Tennessee defense is 11th in the country in total defense. The hate-rays directed at Dave Clawson’s booth have the eyes of Vol fans fully and completely occupied. There is one advantage, though: all that booze-fueled infrared energy is saving a bundle on heating bills at Neyland.
It is a common motif in interviews for [NAME REDACTED] to be just cleaning up after a shower. For some reason, he is forever just entering or exiting a bath of some sort during interviews, leading us to think he wishes that, like a cat, he could just self-clean on the go. Science eventually prevails, though.
GAMEDAY, 2012.
File footage from 2008 Gameday. Lee Corso head-in-jar not pictured.
Graying Chris Fowler: Big matchup coming this Saturday when the Illini go to Camp Randall to face the Badgers. We’ll be right back with Coach [NAME REDACTED].
Director:…aaaaand out.
Head of Lee Corso in Jar: CHANGE THE LIQUID IN HERE! I CAN SMELL MY OWN FACE!
Kirk Herbstreit: Hey, can we get LC some fresh head punch here? (more…)
…notes on the impossibility of hating Tim Tebow and how even having a female kicker on the field will result in mass sodomy in seconds (look it up! It’s in the Bible!).
Damn you, female kicker! Ooomp-chick-Ooomp-chick-Ooomp-chick-Ooomp-chick-Ooomp-chick…
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Tic tac OOOHHHHH. Jim Tressel and the Buckeyes will be having a “Scarlet Fever” Red-Out of sorts to not only convince the Penn State Nittany Lions that they have descended into a piss-scented semi-circle of hellfire on Saturday, but also to raise awareness of Muscular Dystrophy. Attention Buckeye fans: this does not require acquiring a nasty case of actual Scarlet Fever before the game. DO NOT WANT. Also, it gives an excuse for Tressel to show off the coat he pulled off an unconscious and bleeding Wink Martindale in a Los Angeles alley. That bastard fought, but you can’t take down the Senator with a few weak Muay Thai moves. Pete Carroll: Flight Risk. Proof positive that if you stay awake longer, people will simply bug you about more stuff: Pete Carroll, now classified as a flight risk, has to put up with the mewlings of Allen Bradford and Vidal Hazelton’s parents, who claims Carroll never calls, never stops by, and only emails them annoying forwards without any personalized notes or anything. Other parents, Brian Cushing’s in particular, say Carroll is ridiculously communicative, and that sometimes they answer fake calls on the other line just to get Chatty Cathy off the phone. Carroll also, in the course of his 20 hour days, also has to get his team together for a daunting game on the road at Arizona, preserve a 138-0 scoring streak going back to the Oregon game, continue his refusal to discuss the 49ers gig, and remind Tommy to stir the sauce KAREN!!! We’re not not looking. Plane-watching gone awry: yes, there was a plane in Raleigh, North Carolina from the University of Tennessee, but it was not to talk to David Cutcliffe, but to drop off the Vols’ prez for a South U.S./Japan conference. (Tennessee actually has pretty decent Asian business ties as a school, including an MBA program all up ons in Taipei. Don’t look at us like that: it’s true.) In other big orange news: “real men don’t wear orange” is now part of a ticket package at Georgia Tech, something Ian thinks is rich an irony too rich to verbalize fully. BCS.BCBG.BGA. Whatever. Joe Paterno last night on Penn State’s prospects in the current BCS system as a possible undefeated: You know me, I’m for a playoff. But that’s not gonna happen whaddya whaddya whaddya We’re playing Ohio State this week, not the BC…BG..BGS…whatever it is whaddya whaddya whaddya. Sometimes we wonder if he knows precisely what he’s talking about, but consults the Old Guy Handbook of Humorous Inaccurate Sayings and Verbalisms and adds accordingly. He’s at least as lucid as Penn State safety Anthony Scirotto, who has been cleared to play after suffering a concussion in the Michigan game. Snap the damn ball. A little-known obscurantist program in the middle of nowhere has figured out the arcane secrets of the new 40/25 clock: snap. the. damn ball. |
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Orson Swindle and Stranko Montana are two men pushing thirty who should know better than to run a college football blog, but evidently don't. Both graduated from the University of Florida, and both agree that college football is far too important to be left to the professionals.
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