Best Actress in a Supporting Role: Sarah Jessica Parker Tripp Thornton Oh God Why The Fuck Do Southern Bourgeoisie Insist On Giving Their Children Eight Thousand Names John Parker Wilson. Naked, exposed, and vulnerable: all the things an actor fears, but must embrace in a role. In him, we see our own demise, but gorier and more painful than could possibly be imagined.

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Chance Mock has all the timing. He came to Texas and lost the quarterback competition to Vince Young, who as Football Jesus ascended to the right hand of himself and won Texas a national title. Then, Chance Mock decided to go into finance just as shitty mortgage-backed securities and their subsequent implosion threaten to take us back to the barter age. What better time to dispense advice like “buy low, sell high,” and “stock up on ammunition, because when the mer-men escape from their capsules, their soggy vengeance will not be slaked even with rivers of human blood.” That last part is in there, but you have to read the subtitles very closely to see it.

Mock clearly oozes the confidence of a man with a deep understanding of chicken fingers high finance. Next stop: a chain of pager stores! This outfit we’ve heard of called Pajamas Media! Schmendemite: the extremely brittle building material/nutritional supplement made from equal parts asbestos, kitten paws, and radium! The resurrection of the giant shark! (HT: Daniel K, Holly.)

A double-thrusted post, much like the constant thrusting and smiling the entire city of Miami and associated territories makes at you every day. (That is Miami: constant thrusting and the question “Do you like what you see?” over and over again, perhaps occasionally punctuated by a gunshot or two aimed sloppily in your direction.)

The first point? Miami’s new coaches John Lovett and Mark Whipple ended up in the right place since they had a hard-partying bromance as young assistant coaches running game at St. Lawrence University.

“They were lively, to say the least,” said then-Union head coach Al Bagnoli, now the successful head coach at the University of Pennsylvania. “They enjoyed themselves. They worked hard and they played hard. They didn’t get much sleep.”

Lovett and Whipple, seen here in younger days. Not really. But it probably looked a lot like this.

And that the Seventh Floor is a Valtrex-prescription-having blessing on these internets:

Lovett will be found slumped on the bathroom floor at Black Sheep snorting birth control pills while wearing a half-unzipped Body Glove wetsuit and mumbling the lyrics to “Father Figure.”

Extra BC lines off the ladies’ room toilet are on us, lady and gentlemen.

Mornin’ everyone. Feelin’ good. Lookin’ good. You know it. I know it. Charger the Golf Cart of Victory knows it.

Just got a text message from a recruit telling me I’m the sexiest coach. Might be gay. I don’t judge. Just likin’ the intensity. Get him in the program. Have him pick out some shades. Maybe class up the coaches’ uniforms a bit. We need some pizazz. Some action. More lightning bolts on the sleeves.

LIGHTNING BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLTS!!!

(Flexes, calls trick play for a turnover on first play of game.)

Likin’ the effort. Players goin’ all out. Like Josh Brent. Gettin’ a DUI. Happens. Got pulled over with suspended license. Why’s it suspended? Too busy hittin’ the weights. Hang cleanin’ hogs at the Ag building. Hang cleanin’ every day. Can’t file the paperwork because he can’t get full extension at all three points pushin’ paper. Likin’ it.

HAAAAAAAAANG CLEEEEEEEAAAAAAAANS!!!

(Holds press conference with hair on fire. Insists hair is not on fire.)

That’s three points in the Fulmer Cup. Competin’. Scorin’. Three is more than two. Take two outta three and you get one. That’s Illini math. Winner’s math. Take one and divide it one. Guess what you got? That’s right. A winner. Every day, dividin’ one by one and getting one. Or eighth in the Big Ten. That’s one if you divide it by eight, which is really just a bunch a ones all stacked together. We get those sorted out and we’ll be good here at Illinoise. Gonna like it. Gonna compete.

COMPEEEEEEEEEEEEETE!!!

(Checks play card, gestures wildly, mismanages clock and allows time to expire on potential game-winning FG attempt.)