Tim Tebow can be a starting quarterback in the NFL. In fact, Tim can do anything he sets his mind to.
It is rare enough that I find such devotion as his in any of my children, much less among professional athletes.
But Tim is special; anyone who has watched him pray knows this. It was my Divine Will that he should lead his team to the Super Bowl and come away victorious.
I believe in free will for my people, however. It was Tim’s own choices that led to his eventual downfall this season. It was not I who told him to throw so many balls so poorly during his start against the Patriots, nor was it my hand that struck the ball from his when he fumbled the ball back to Tom Brady.
Obviously, I do take some matters into my own hands. For instance, Ben Roethlisberger is quite the sinner and scumbag. I did not want to grace him with another Super Bowl appearance. And in regard to the Saints, even if they were aptly named, there is no way in Hell I was going through another entire year of “Who ‘Dat.”
Many people seem to confuse “omniscient” and “perfect.” I am the former; not the latter. Tom Brady has never been the favorite of my children, and when he smote Tim’s playoff chances, I will admit that I lost my temper.
Yes, it was I who blew on Ahmad Bradshaw to make him fall into the endzone in the fourth quarter of the super bowl. I knew that, despite the talents Tom Brady was given by me, there would be no comeback for him in this game. You might say I did not have faith in him.
Tim was, and still is, my Chosen One. He will simply have to work more and pray harder in order to prove it next season. But, yes; Tim will come again.
God on Tim Tebow
Coach Franklin Recruited to Coach Other Stuff on Campus Too
After one of the most successful football seasons recent history, Vanderbilt is seeking to increase the role of Coach James Franklin.
The university, looking to improve various teams on campus, has been courting Franklin primarily to coach Men’s Basketball, Women’s Swimming, and the student workers who operate the omelet stations at Rand Brunch.
Two years in a row now, Vanderbilt’s Men’s Basketball team has stirred up quite a bit of hype, only to lose to a lower-seeded team in the first round of the March tourney. While many students claim this trend is a “typical Vanderbilt athletic performance,” the administration has admitted disappointment and a desire to improve.
“At many universities, the goal of sporting events is to win,” reported Vanderbilt athletic director, Lance Legstrong. “We want to become one of those universities, and Coach Franklin appears to be the best hope to create a winning tradition.”
It seems the university’s motivations in regards to the Women’s Swim team are similar. Apparently, at the most recent swim meet, attendance dropped from its normal seven fans down to three, with seemingly no explanation. “If we could get more people to attend these meets, we might be able to afford to build a real pool on campus to make the program more attractive to prospective athletes,” claimed Legstrong. “I assume the location is the problem, at least. I have not actually attended a meet to confirm this.”
The issues surrounding the omelet operators, however, are entirely different and much more severe. When searching for commentators on the growing catastrophe, initial attempts proved futile. Finally, one student, who requested to remain anonymous, was found hunched over a toilet. “It’s not even food poisoning,” he said. “It just tasted fucking awful.”
Preliminary examinations appear that student workers with absolutely no knowledge about what an omelet is, much less how to make one, were hired this semester. While hopes for a full turn around are slim, Legstrong and the rest of the community hope that Franklin can at least create a winning mindset and turn the program around, as he did with the football team.
Franklin has yet to release his answer, but is expected to do so in charismatic fashion so that people can post his video repeatedly on Facebook.
Azarenka-Sharapova game shatters record for most boners at a public event
Maria Sharapova’s defeat rocked the world of women’s tennis last week in her match against Victoria Azarenka. The outcome of this match has been deemed a step forward for the sport, as officials proudly declared that the record for most boners at a public event was shattered. During the back and forth moaning volleys of Sharapova and Azarenka, the two managed to accrue an astonishing 245 boners by male audience members.
Ron Jeremy was spotted at the match and gave his take on the historic event: “You know, I’ve had a few girls in my day, but there’s something about that Maria Sharapova that really spoke to this crowd and their libidos.”
What Mr. Jeremy was referring to was not Sharapova’s notorious ability in the sport, but more her penchant for letting loose overtly sexual moans like clockwork every serve.
Sharapova commented on her achievement by saying, “the two greatest moments of my life were when I became a professional women’s tennis player, and yesterday, when I looked into my mother’s eyes after she had heard about the record and said ‘that’s my girl.’”
The record for most boners at a public setting was first set by a determined group of acne-riddled Apple fanboys at Steve Jobs’ announcement of the iPad several years ago. Since then, people around the world have been breaking all kinds of boner records (“boner breakers” as they’re called in the industry), including the record for the least amount of boners, which belongs to the audience of a live screening of Oprah in 2003.
Indeed, there is a rich history of boner records, but the Azarenka-Sharapova match has set the bar high for future hopefuls in this truly unique arena.
Unfortunately, not everyone is as excited as these boner breakers, as grassroots feminist campaigners such as the boisterous group D.M. (Demonstration Menstration) have taken a stand against the attention that such records have been receiving. We spoke to the head of D.M., Hillary Rodham Clinton, who gave a statement about the level of immaturity in today’s media saying, “Erections aren’t everything in this world” and followed up with, “my husband never gets them.”
After we informed her of former president Bill Clinton’s attendance at the game (and subsequent participation in the record), she calmly rephrased her response with, “he usually goes for the huskier girls.”
In any case, regardless of your stance on the issue of boner exposure stories, one cannot deny that Azarenka and Sharapova can both go home winners from their match, knowing they’ve contributed so much to arousing interest in this oft-neglected sport.
Tales from Our Trip to The Liberty Bowl
5:30 pm- Depart from Dallas
6:00 pm- Wait in traffic outside of Dallas
6:27 pm- Drive along I-30, stare at plains on the side of the highway
X 6:59 pm- Pass by store called “Beer:30,” avoid swerving ’89 Dodge pickup exiting Beer:30’s drive through, question the ethics of a drive-through beer store
7:11 pm- Bored as hell
8:04 pm- Stare at the boring Texas landscape some more
8:39 pm- Stop for food and gas in Texarkana, wonder why the gas station is selling Florida souvenir shot glasses
X 10:01 pm- Hit deer just outside of Arkadelphia; who names a city “Arkadelphia?”
10:03 pm- Drag deer carcass to side of road
10:04 pm- Say a few words in deceased deer’s honor; offer our sincerest apologies to his deer family
11:30 pm- Arrive in Little Rock, spend the night at relative’s house
9:12 am- Depart Little Rock, prolonged silence for the next hour
10:17 am- There is literally nothing in this state
10:24 am- Make jokes about Arkansas, but at least we’re not in Louisiana
11:43 am- Arrive at hotel in Memphis
12:15 pm- Arrive at Liberty Bowl, turn down $10 parking in front yard of lady wearing Mumu
12:30 pm- Complete circumnavigation of Liberty Bowl through seas of Cincinnati fans to find friend’s tailgate
X 12:37 pm- Observe middle-aged people wearing Missouri gear playing beer pong and bald man wearing ammo belt loaded with 25 red hot shots
2:41 pm- Vanderbilt possession, offense goes 3 and out
2:50 pm- Vanderbilt possession, offense goes 3 and out
2:57 pm- Vanderbilt possession, offense goes 3 and out
3:58 pm- Preposterous halftime show featuring geriatric from KC and the Sunshine Band, women dressed as Cinderella, and giant marching band we couldn’t hear
4:35 pm- Excitement: Vanderbilt might win!
4:43 pm- Game dissolves into frustrating stalemate of decent defense and ineffectual offense
5:01 pm- Vanderbilt could still win…
5:53 pm- Vanderbilt loses; express utmost dissatisfaction using expletives; apologize to family with 3 small children sitting behind us
6:24 pm- Arrive on Beale Street. Seems fun, but they’ve sold themselves out a little
6:35 pm- Eat at barbeque joint
7:21 pm- Walk down alley to see outdoor blues concert; rethink our decision as shirtless men keep entering through shadowy gate topped with razor wire
7: 33 pm- Not sure if we should judge or admire people with 4-foot-tall margaritas
7:45 pm- Go to outdoor concert on Beale Street; singer of blues band wearing black cape and red leather pants sounds like he has eaten a bowl of staples in preparation for his career
8:32 pm- Punk metal band hailing from Tupelo, Mississippi takes the stage; concert attendants leave
9:01 pm- Observe enormous, unwashed man dressed as Santa Claus drinking 4-foot-tall margarita, take picture, careful not to let him see; run away, thinking he might have rabies
9:50 pm- Friend’s dad purchases Diver (aka Elvis Juice), a bucket of mystery libations from Silky O’ Sullivan’s Irish Tavern
10:32 pm- See preacher with sign condemning the sinful wicked of Beale Street for their debauchery
10:33 pm- Offer to buy preacher a drink, secretly ask God for forgiveness
11:40 pm- Irritating Cincinnati fans and general intoxicated public swarm onto Beale Street; claustrophobia sets in
11:59 pm- Novelty guitar outside of Hard Rock Café begins to fall–a shameless, sad mimic of Times Square
12:00 am- Celebrate yet another passage around the sun; wasn’t sure if the world would make it this time
12:40 am- Make it back to the hotel; crash
9:15 am- Depart from hotel, trying not to mention the bowl game
X 12:47 pm- Stop for lunch and gas at truck stop Subway in Arkadelphi. Seriously, what’s up with that name?
12:48:03 pm- Make Deliverance joke at truck stop in Arkadelphia
12:48:04 pm- Run like hell away from truck stop
12:49 pm- Sneak back into truck stop to retrieve forgotten sunglasses
5:03 pm- Tired silence interrupted by occasional conversation
X 5:05 pm- Arrive back in Dallas; cross our fingers that Vandy gets a bid to the Cotton Bowl next year
Even Deaf Basketball Players Need to Wear Dr. Dre Headphones
New freshman basketball stand-out Steven Pinnauricle was recently pressured into wearing Beats by, Dr. Dre headphones, around campus despite being completely deaf.
Pinnauricle, born in southern Ethiopia, lost all of his hearing in an accident involving a hammer, an anvil, and a stirrup. Not letting his disability impede his promising athletic career, he secured a scholarship to Vanderbilt some 18 months ago after a record-setting season at Ethiopia High.
Only a casual listener of music, Pinnauricle had no intentions of following the trend set by his teammates and wearing Dr. Dre’s now iconic headphones around campus, but the team had other plans for him. In a recent vote, his team unanimously decided that he would wear the headphones around campus and in dormitory lobbies.
When asked why his team would force this upon him, John Jenkins merely stated, “I don’t wanna be hearing all this talk about us forcing all this stuff on him. I’m tired of all this noise. We know what’s best for him.” When asked if he wanted to change this quote in light of the fact one of his fellow teammates cannot actually hear anything, he simply made several consecutive 3-point jumpers.
Pinnauricle apparently tried to get his teammates to agree he could wear the ear-bud version of the headphones, but all of his requests fell on deaf ears.
An interview with Pinnauricle was attempted, but when asked how he felt about the team’s decision, he simply said, “Huh?” Whether this was an indicator of a deficiency in his comprehension of the inquiry presented to him, or whether he is just deaf, remains unknown. I wrote my question of, “Do you have some ear muffs for your first real winter?” on a slip of paper and he scoffed at me and wrote back that he didn’t wear ear muffs, on principle.
I continued my research on his Facebook page, and things to note would be that his favorite artist is Picasso, his favorite composer Beethoven, and his favorite movie is Dumbo.
One other thing Pinnauricle related was that due to his humble beginnings, finding the money for such expensive headphones would be difficult, and when he asked his teammates if he could buy knock-off Dr. Dre headphones, they glared at him and told him to never mention something like that again and they would turn a deaf ear to it once, but only just this once.
Fatalities Allowed for UFC
UFC officials announced yesterday that fatalities will now be admitted for all fights in all weight divisions. President Dana White reported that the United Fighting Championship had been working toward this goal since its inception in 1993. “Until now, we’d been letting things like laws and public outcry against atrocities keep us from making this vision a reality,” says White. “But the future is here. And it’s a sweaty, testosterone-fueled future.”
“This is just what the viewers ordered,” said a UFC marketing official. “Studies show that our principal demographic, the thirty-five-year-old male, is not being exposed to enough violence in his daily life. The introduction of fatalities will serve to make the program even more mentally enriching, as well as bring in a boat load of money. Finally, we can start charging as much as the porn channels.”
Reaction among the fighters was overwhelmingly positive. Anderson Silva, current middleweight champion, has already begun formulating ideas for his signature fatality. “I was thinking I’d punch the guy’s head off and then shove it through his chest,” says Silva. “But I want to make sure it’s something unique to me, you know? Do you think somebody’s already thought of choking the other guy with his own nuts?”
“I can’t wait to choke Anderson Silva with his own nuts,” says former middleweight champion Rich Franklin.
Not all UFC competitors were pleased with the change, however. Perry Akers, featherweight fighter with a 2-23 record, expressed uneasiness concerning the consequences of the new policy. “By making fatalities an option, it’s like saying that only winners are important,” says Akers. “And I think that’s sending the wrong message.”
“[Akers] is completely misinterpreting the change,” White responded. “All we’re trying to say is that losers don’t deserve to live. That’s a statement we can all agree on. Unless you’re a pussy like Perry Akers, and then hopefully someone will do us all a favor and do a fatality on you.”
Fans are already gearing up for the first fatality-inclusive fights, beginning in January of next year. “I bought one of those new-fangled high-definitive televisions just for that,” says Agnes Mildrew, 78-year-old mother of five and retired JC Penny’s sales clerk. “When those greased-up giants start ripping each other’s arms off, I want to see the blood and the agony on their faces. I’ve been saying for years that they just don’t make brutal beat-downs like the used to, but it looks like that sweet boy Dana White and the other folks at the UFC are starting to get things right.”
The legalization of fatalities has brought with it several other changes to the fight guidelines. Tittie twisters, curb-stomping, and groin attacks are all acceptable under the new rules. “It’s great to see nut-punching make a comeback,” says Johnny Cage, movie star and world-famous mixed martial artist. “There’s really nothing like the feeling of balls exploding beneath your fists.”
Despite criticism from various humanitarian groups, White stands firm in the UFC’s decision. “This is the real deal. Either you like it, or you’re gay. Though I have nothing but respect for the gay community, I’m just saying.”
Foreigners discovered to lag in real life
Rio de Janeiro, Brazil—A traffic accident, with no driver claiming responsibility, took place this September. While normally a second thought wouldn’t be given to such an event, something sets this accident apart from all others: both drivers are blaming the accident on lag.
The American motorist, Zach Jewell, claims he was crossing the intersection, but he could see that the other driver’s car was several yards away and had no chance of hitting him. The Brazilian driver, Yara Melo, says she saw Zach’s vehicle crossing in front of her.
“I could swear it was already past, and then suddenly- crash! Our cars were crunched together in the middle of the road.” Enraged about the accident, which he perceived as Melo’s fault, Jewell screamed “Fuckin’ lag!!!! I swear I drove RIGHT PAST HER.”
This accident is only one instance of lag occurring between peoples “IRL,” or “in real life.” Lag occurs when events are slightly out-of-sync with one another, causing disrupted activity.
Lag was once thought to be confined to online gaming where slow internet connections caused players to miss shots at their opponents or appear to be stuck in the same spot.
However, sociologists at the University of Minnesota, in cooperation with engineers, have released a study linking several previously-mysterious real-life events to lag.
Stephen Turnet, Ph.D., author of the study, traveled around the world with his colleagues seeking evidence of real-life lag among foreign peoples.
He shared with The Slant some of his startling discoveries.
“I was walking down a street in the market,” said Joseph Catlin, an American tourist taking a walk through a busy market in Seoul, South Korea, “and all of the vendors were running in place, stuck in their spots. Some of them were running into walls for minutes at a time. I’d never seen lag so bad!”
Soldiers are having extreme difficulty with lag problems as well. Government sources confided to The Slant that the reason the United States has not committed to the war on drug cartels in South America may be because of lag between combatants which unnecessarily puts soldiers’ lives in danger.
Staff Sergeant J.R. Head admitted, “it’s one thing to have a soldier take a bullet, God forbid, if he makes a mistake. But when he makes it to cover and a bullet magically kills him by shooting through the spot he was in a few seconds ago, that really demoralizes the company. Fuckin’ lag.”
One man interviewed said he was purchasing a hot dog from a Persian immigrant street vendor. He said the vendor assembled his hot dog in intermittent jerky movements, then just dropped it on the ground, totally missing the customer’s outstretched hand.
“If I was just a second quicker, I would have caught it,” said the man. “It just felt like something was out of sync between us.”
While the issue can be serious, engineers involved in the study believe the best thing to do is suck it up and provide wider margins for error in all interactions with foreigners.
It may be tempting to blame our mistakes on lag, but we must be understanding and keep our cool in the face of foreigners calling us “n00bs” for screwing up. After all, not every country can afford good internet like America.
AJ Ogilvy ahead of the curve, anticipated NBA’s exodus to Europe
With a truncated or non-existent 2011-2012 NBA season rapidly approaching, several NBA players have received lucrative contracts from European basketball leagues. Derron Williams, point guard of the New Jersey Nets, recently agreed to play in Turkey for five-million dollars. Superstar Kobe Bryant has even been offered one to two million dollars to play a single game for an Italian basketball club, Virtus Bologna. However, according to some, players such as these are in contact with European teams a little late in the game.
For a unique perspective on the NBA’s lockout, or “high-stakes hissy fit,” The Slant’s sports section decided to interview former Commodore center, AJ Ogilvy. Ogilvy played on Turkey’s Besiktas Cola Turka alongside NBA wash-up Allen Iverson for the 2010-2011 season.
The Slant: You recently tweeted that you foresaw the NBA lockout, and planned accordingly. How did you know the contract negotiations would go so poorly?
AJ Ogilvy: I saw this coming a mile away. It’s pretty simple, really. A bunch of street criminals grubbing for money from a bunch of white-collar crooks that hoard money was gonna end badly sooner or later.
TS: Your decision to hire an agent and declare for the NBA draft was originally met with controversy by the Vanderbilt student fan-base who described you as “a weird-ass Australian who couldn’t get a rebound” and “some douche with highlights who wouldn’t jump to block.” However, in light of the NBA’s current predicament of poor negotiation, your career strategy in 2010 has now been described as “guided by foresight and an over-sized ego.”
AJO: Yeah, I got a lot of shit for hiring an agent at the time, but hey, I got to hit up Istanbul with AI. AI! So, yeah, people hated on me, but I could just text Allen Iverson and be like, “Hey, you wanna hang?” And then we could just meet up at Bayoolu and jam. Plus, like it or not, I’m a professional basketball player now.
TS: Do you think you’ll ever play in the NBA? Should the league continue its pathetic existence?
AJO: Nah, I don’t think the NBA is for me. I’m not a big fan of improving my game. It’s like, I can make it here in Europe with the marginal talent I have naturally. Look at Dirk. I don’t see the point in putting in so many years of tireless work just so you can be remembered as the German guy who shut up three arrogant assholes who couldn’t finish a game.
TS: We hear that you recently signed with Spain’s basketball team, Power Electronics Valencia. What does this contract mean to you?
AJO: See, I’m supposed to say that this is “an exciting opportunity to enhance my career and contribute to the great basketball scene of Spain,” but really, you just gotta take what you can get. I mean, hopefully both the Gasol brothers will stay in the states in case the NBA comes back. That way I can be the big center on campus.
As NBA owners and players continue to argue over millions of dollars for a sport that was invented to pass the time while it wasn’t football or baseball season, the prospects of a 2011-2012 season look grim with the first two weeks of games already cancelled. Ironically, former washout AJ Ogilvy might wind up playing with the NBA’s best after all.
How I learned to Football Good, Like a Man Does
As a woman, I’m kept pretty busy. Between doing laundry, cleaning things, and cooking three meals a day for my husband, Frank, sometimes it feels like I’m being pulled in every direction. So it’s no surprise that I’ve never had the time to learn the ins and outs of the complex game of football.
It’s not that I didn’t want to know about football. My husband and his friends always sounded like they were having a great time when they were watching the games. But of course, whenever the game was on I would be in the kitchen, working on all the fancy dips and snacks Frank and his friends would eat. And after each game was over I’d be so busy with the dishes that I’d forget all about silly man stuff like football.
But that all changed last week when I attended “Football 101 for Women.”
You see, the new football coach at Vanderbilt, Jim Franklin, figured out that there are lots of women like me who just don’t know how to football. So Franklin decided to offer an event where he could teach us all about it. I’m still not sure exactly what inspired Franklin to do this, but then again I’m only a woman, and it’s not my job to know why men do what they do.
I first heard about the event from a leaflet that was placed in my mailbox. As a woman, I obviously don’t know how to read. So I gave the leaflet to my husband and asked him to read it.
At first I thought the idea was rather silly. I mean “Football 101?” It almost sounds like a class! And if I had wanted to learn things, I would have been born a man.
But Frank seemed to really like the idea, so last Saturday I got all the vacuuming done early and headed out to learn about football.
I must say, despite my misgivings, this event was actually a lot of fun! Coach Franklin taught us all sorts of interesting things about the wonderful sport of football. Why, I’ll never forget when Coach led off the event by saying “Football is fun game HIT HIT HIT go!”
Franklin brought a lot of energy to the event and really made the sport come alive. “There are people and they go and like CRASH bang and it’s like a big hit and then he goes and TOUCHDOWN!” (That was how coach explained the opening kickoff.)
I was so glad that I brought my voice recorder with me so I could record every word of Coach Franklin’s lecture. That way I’ll never forget all the great lessons he taught us, like how football has a bunch of downs and kicking.
And the lesson didn’t just stick to football! About fifteen minutes into his talk Coach Franklin decided to give us ladies a few beauty tips. Franklin went around and told every single woman in attendance either “I wanna fuck your titties,” or “UGGO!” depending on each woman’s level of attractiveness.
Don’t tell my husband, Frank, but I must say I was pretty happy to be granted an emphatic “I wanna fuck your titties.”
I enjoyed my experience with Football 101 so much that afterwards I suggested a few more classes that the football team might want to offer. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if us womenfolk could have a nice group of men teach us about confusing topics like cars? Or “voting?” Maybe some man could even teach me how to read!
Just kidding, I know women’s brains can’t process written words.
Q&A with Mr. C
A few weeks after the recent boxing match between Mr. C and a student at the Vandy vs. Tennessee game on February 24th, we at The Slant decided to sit down and have a chat with Mr. C to discuss his future here at Vandy. When I approached Mr. C and asked him to talk with me, he punched me in the face like a bitch and ran away. After tracking him down in the old men’s locker room, I convinced him to talk, or else I’d reveal what’s really underneath his gym shorts. Let’s just say he needs the ExtenZe.
Me: I would like to thank you for taking time out of your busy boxing schedule to sit down and chat with us at The Slant, Mr. C.
Mr. C: Fuck you!
Me: First and foremost, I’m sure you want to get something off your chest, Mr. C.
Mr. C: Yes, I would like to say something first and foremost before we begin… I pity the foo’ whose nose I broke, so I just want to make sure he knows that he got what was coming to him.
Me: Whoa, whoa, Mr. C. That wasn’t quite what I was expecting. That sounds more like Mr. T. Don’t you want to start off with an apology to that poor fan?
Mr. C: (giggling) No.
Me: So why exactly did you punch him in the first place?
Mr. C: Well, there are lots of reasons actually. First of all, our basketball team was up by like 15 points over UT, and then we fell behind like we always do. That always really pisses me off. But anyway, being the mascot and all, I had to get the crowd back into the game so I decided to do my signature crowd surf.
Me: Yeah, I saw that. They were tossing you around quite violently if I remember.
Mr. C: Yeah, they were PISSIN’ ME OFF! They were throwing me around like a rag doll, and I was starting to get really dizzy. Not to mention I was already dizzy because I pregamed during the pregame warm-up. Then, near the end of my crowd surf, I felt someone grab my genitals.
Me: Whoa! So, the guy grabbed your Commodore?
Mr. C: Yeah, he grabbed Mr. Cock. I would have been ok if it were some hot sorostitute who grabbed me, but not THAT guy. I wanted to punch him right there on the spot except I was still being tossed around. Then, those fucking fans dropped me onto a bench! Why does that always happen?!?
Me: Well, you won’t have to worry about it happening too much longer considering you probably won’t be coming back next year.
Mr. C: (laughing) My thoughts exactly. I decided that I was tired of masquerading around in this 100-degree costume oven, getting tossed around and always being dropped by the fans. I thought I might as well go out with a BANG! Plus, I made it onto ESPN. I’ve always dreamed of that since I was a kid.
Me: Well, I’m glad to know that you lived out your childhood dreams, Mr. C. What do you think the future holds for you, and for Vandy’s next mascot?
Mr. C: For me, I just wanna graduate and settle down. Maybe I’ll eventually find a Mrs. C, and we can have some baby Cs, but I’m just gonna focus on not getting expelled from school for now. As for Vandy basketball and their mascot, good luck finding a new one. I dunno about you, but I’m tired of losing in the first round of the NCAA. It makes me want to punch someone.
Mr. C can be reached via his email address:
Mr.CuntIL_I_DIE@Vanderbilt.edu
