My daughter. I love that kid.

I wrote the most hateful post about Tim Tebow earlier tonight. She said I should delete it. So I did.

You should have read what I wrote. Woo! I would have gone straight to hell for that. It was R-rated and very hateful. But pretty damn funny, I must say.

Dinner in Atlanta.

Damn, that War Eagle appetizer was mighty tasty. I ordered it flash-fried, but the slow-roasted bird was surprisingly satisfying. I loved the way Chef Greg and the kitchen staff finished it off.

Now I'm ready for the main course. So many good choices in the ATL. I recommend La Maison de Deion.

Healthy appetite? Try the Swamp & Stomp (that's fried gator tail with a squashed T-Bone). That's what Terrence ordered, the Swamp & Stomp for Two. 

Wine? I'll be having the 1992 Frere Oliver (a truly memorable red). If you are a Gator fan, try a bottle or three of Rip Van Dunlap, then drive back to Gainesville. Right after I call the Georgia Highway Patrol. 

Those French chefs,  you've got to watch 'em. Deion is always trying to slip some snails, stomach, pancreas or something onto your plate. Just be careful. If you are partial to escargot, tripe and sweetbreads and willing to take a chance, you might like the Globes Oculaires de Bouledogue (bulldog eyeballs). Deion put those on the menu for the Florida fans hitting town this weekend.  They are fresh-gouged.

If you want to eat cheap, Florida's QB will be serving fishes and loaves at the Georgia Dome. And here's a great tip... if you want to catch a buzz during the game. Just buy a couple of bottled waters. Superman will turn those into wine for you, no charge. 

If you clean your plate, you get to have some of this for dessert:

A good read follows. Hit the link below:

Here's a great analysis by Ivan Maisel of ESPN.com

I thought the picture below was funny. My buddy T-Bone (no relation to the Chosen One) said it might make him root for the Gators. Almost, but not really.

THE END^^

Excuse me, I'm the one with the bragging rights here.

Aubs Bring the Dink JV Shit, Still Fall Short

Ah, enough about the moral victory already. I am just glad I didn't have to go over to the Potemkin Village on the Plains to see them foaming at the mouth after the onside kick. It's terrible to get a narrow win over an outclassed opponent. I feel like a Philistine who has been smote with the jawbone of an ass, but now I get to give Auburn fans the business for another whole year.

I only have one question... were we this pitiful as fans during the Shula years? I fear we were. Let us never, ever, go back there. And if we should, let us never, ever claim a moral victory.

Bring on the Gators.

So you're going to the Auburn game?

Survival Guide for ‘Bama Fans in Auburn

George Bernard Shaw, the great Irish dramatist and purported socialist, once said “England and America are two countries separated by a common language.” I always liked the quote, as much for its economy of words as its message. Being a fraction Irish myself, and 100% Southern, I fully understand being misunderstood and often ponder why people sharing the same language and lineage, who reside within common borders and even in the same neighborhoods, choose to turn against one another for no apparent reason.

Take Auburn University and its followers, the Aubs, for example. Yes, we share a form of the same language. We grudgingly share a state with them. We went to high school with them, share zip codes, go to church together and sometimes, out of some sense of noblesse oblige, even let our children play with theirs. Outside.

But tomorrow we will be strangers in a strange land – their land, not ours -- outnumbered and outgunned, hoping to leave Friday evening victorious and elated, but injury-free and with fully-inflated tires on our cars. We have to ask ourselves the question, like noted American social icon Rodney King did, “Can we all get along?” And since I’m quoting social icons and purported socialists today, the answer is a resounding “Yes, we can!”

Here are some BamaBing! tips that will enhance your gameday experience and increase your chances of survival:

1. Avoid the term “Cow College.” They are sensitive about their agricultural heritage, for some reason. I never figured this one out, since every time you eat a truly great steak it’s probably the result of some Aubs doing freaky cross-breeding experiments in animal husbandry class. And they gave us the McLean Deluxe. Don’t forget that.

2. Be careful who you hang with. If this guy (left) is at your tailgate, nothing good can happen. You wouldn’t spearfish in shark-infested waters with a bloody red snapper clipped to your belt, would you? So don’t strike up a postgame conversation with a piss-drunk Bama sidewalk alum who wants to roll Toomer’s Corner. At best, you will get your ass beat. At worst, they will rip you apart and sling your entrails into the trees.

3. Don’t ask about the basketball arena. Yes, they are spending $100 million on a basketball gym with fewer seats than their old one (which was already one of the smallest in the SEC). This is so they won’t have to hang a curtain across half the place to hide the empty seats. Just let them keep building shit they can't afford, trying to catch up with us. This is how Ronald Reagan crushed the Soviet Union.

4. Don’t ask why there are so many Alabama fans at the game. Sensing another steady dose of The Process, Aubs are in all-out sell mode and finding limited domestic demand for their tickets. This has sent them en masse into the open market, where the buyers are largely of the Crimson variety. Aubs rationalize the economic situation thusly, “I can pay for my whole season ticket package by selling my tickets to Bammers.” The irony of this escapes them.

5. If you must engage… ask if Eltoro Freeman is named for a lawn mower.

6. Don’t count your championships. They really hate it when we do this.

7. Don’t ask why their season ticket hotline number is 1-800-AUB-1957. Just don’t.

8. Bad topics of conversation: Colonial Bank, Mr. Lowder, sociology, the world famous Kenny Irons interview, the Martyrdom of John "Stump" Thrower, Iowa State’s bowl eligibility, mobile homes as student housing, SACS accreditation, lingering ex-coach hush money payments, Rev. Chette’s tax status.

In summary, give the Aubs praise where it’s due. Comment on the pristine nature of their field – they are very proud of it. If you wish, feel free to read them this little poem I wrote in praise of Aubs:

I’m raising my glass

To the Auburn vet

Who stuck his finger

In my Labrador’s ass

And the Auburn grad

Who cuts my grass

And his lovely wife

Paroled at last.

I’m drinking a toast

To the Auburn farmer

Who grows the collards

I like the most

And strings barbed wire

From post to post

And his cousin Donnie

Who tends the goats.

I’m buying a round

For the Auburn men

Who raise the cattle

And plow the ground

And build the bridges

And cruise around

On John Deere tractors

And roll their own town.

War Damn Eagle

I can't help it. I think this is funny as hell.

Took this in June 2006 while passing through Eclectic, AL on Highway 63. 

Bama 31 - MSU 3. Well, so much for the big "trap game"

Do you know why nobody ever really tries to stop those Mississippi State people from bringing their cowbells to the games? I think it's because nobody really cares.

Indisputable photo evidence CLEARLY shows LSU wuz robbed!

... of their MANHOOD.

I am tired of this Brady Bunch shit from LSU fans.

I've seen the high-def video over and over. I really think it was an interception, but I don't think the replay official could see indisputable evidence sufficient to overturn the call made on the field. I also don't think it would have made a difference. LSU was tired, hurt and whipped by then, but hey, they could have come back and won the game. We'll never know.

I do know this much though: if the idiot Les Miles hadn't gone for two when he did, the score would have been 23-16 when LSU did get the ball back.  Then the Bengal Tigers would have had plenty of time to win or send it into overtime. And if LSU was half as well-coached as your average high school JV squad, then maybe they wouldn't have pissed away all three of their time-outs like they did. So that left LSU with a short clock and no time-outs, but still a chance to score and get an onside kick. Hell, it worked for Tennessee. But the LSU offense gave up two sacks and an interception in a two-minute drill that looked about as crisp as underdone boudin balls, or whatever those people eat that's not very crisp. 

Why did LSU lose this game? Was it their tired, whipped football team that got physically dominated in the 4th quarter? Was it their cornerback with leg cramps? Was it their stream-of-consciousness head coach whose lucky horseshoe finally fell out of his ass? Was it their backup QB who throws like he's handcuffed? No, none of these items cost LSU the game -- it was the SEC ref conspiracy! And boy, do the Tigah fans have the pictures to prove it. 

Over the last three days I have seen a hundred still photographs showing indisputable evidence that BAMA CHEATED and that the SEC OFFICIALS WERE IN ON IT.

For example, the photo below was sent to me this morning by an LSU fan claiming it CLEARLY shows a facemask penalty. I agree, if it was a live play. Was this the play blown dead before the snap when the LSU right tackle jumped? If not, which one should've been flagged for the facemask penalty? Can you tell from a photo? I guess you can, so I'll play along.

The picture below CLEARLY shows #24 invoking the little-known "Dirt Clod Rule."

"If the turf got a hole, the game must be stole."

The photo below CLEARLY shows Jerrell Harris hugging it out (awww) with his Bengal Tiger BFF:

The photo below CLEARLY shows Jordan Jefferson sitting on his ass, thinking "Screw this." 

"Pffft."

This photo CLEARLY shows the enthusiastic and courageous team leader Jefferson, although injured and on the sideline with a terrible boo-boo on his ankle, using his infectious leadership skills to rally the Bengal Tigers to a victory:

"Please, God, don't put me back in there."

This is CLEARLY the newest Daniel Moore painting, entitled Make His Ass Quit. Regarding the photo version of this, one LSU friend of mine whined, "Our guys must have been blocked in the back." To which I replied, "Whatever."

There are a number of things going on in the photo below. First, this is what we commonly call an arm tackle, which can usually slow #22 down as much as a bug slows down a Mack truck's windshield. But notice that the LSU defender is CLEARLY LOWERING HIS HEAD, which is SPEARING and could have MAIMED our guy, so I guess the CHEATING ASS SEC REFS MISSED THIS ONE TOO.

This is CLEARLY a photo of Bama's Lorenzo Washington lowering his head to deliver a potentially life-threatening hit on the unsuspecting Jefferson:

No wait, wrong game. 
And that's one of LSU's altar boys on the stop.

This is CLEARLY an elephant.

This is indisputable photo evidence of a woman on the back of a motorcycle with flames CLEARLY coming out of her butt.

Below is indisputable photo evidence of my friend Thomas CLEARLY about to land a Great White Shark with a Zebco 33 on 8-pound test using a Mepp's #2 spinner. Notice he is about to use the net. What a pussy.

Lastly, here is indisputable photo evidence of Bruce Springsteen CLEARLY belting out the chorus of Hey Tigahs! We Just Beat the Hell Out Of You as the rest of the E Street Band band jams:

Oh, I almost forgot about the Brady Bunch reference. I remembered the episode (#60; I googled it) when Greg wanted to play football so he could get the girl, but Carol was afraid he'd get hurt, then Mike said let's let him play, then Greg wins a starting job and gets the girl (a real groovy girl). Then wouldn't you know it, Greg gets hurt in practice, not a bad injury, like an ACL or a sports hernia, but bad enough that Carol won't let him play in the big game. So the coach asks Greg to be the "official team photographer," but Greg is afraid the groovy chick won't go for some uncool photographer. But he winds up taking a picture of the other team's winning touchdown play and when he enlarges the photo we find out that the other team's receiver was CLEARLY out of bounds. Greg is the hero because the coach is going to "appeal" the touchdown call based on indisputable photo evidence. Greg winds up the hero, gets the groovy girl and learns the valuable lesson that you don't have to be a star ballplayer to score chicks and help the team win. So anyway, it's 1971 and I'm watching this piece of crap show with my two brothers and we call HORSE SHIT ON THAT because even as little snot-nosed kids we knew you can't reverse the outcome of a football game based on some fucking picture.