Hanging out with some family down here.
Yesterday I went for a run. I was wearing my tight, white Badger tee-shirt, cut just above the nipples in order to minimize chafing and maximize sexy. It was a chilly morning for
So I just finished the run as twelve short school buses pulled into the stadium complex. The buses were carrying the Big Ten Championship Losers. The
I ran to the area that appeared to be populated by the guy wearing the Outback Steakhouse clothing waiting to greet the team, because even though I hate
As the entire team - coaches, trainers, managers, parole officers, designated test takers, etc - all came off of the busses, I clapped for the team like a crystal-methed seal and stuck my hand out for five. Some of the Spartans liked it - couldn't help but see my shirt, laughed a little, tickled my nipples and then gave a nice, soft, sensual high five. The great majority were totally devoid of any brain activity yet still gave a perfunctory five once their blank, thoughtless eyes were able to detect my hand in the air.
A couple were total douchebags, and tried to physically attack me but were prevented from doing so by a group of armed men wearing "Spartan-Handler" jackets who shot the players with stun darts that left the players lying asleep in the parking lot. Other than the dozen players sleeping in the parking lot with darts sticking out of their necks, the rest of the players were walking up to a brick wall outside the stadium that had a piece of cardboard stating "Outbak Bole" (sic) taped to it. Although the brick wall prevented the players in the front from advancing, the players in the back continued to march forward, reenacting the parade scene from Animal House. The
Then, as they started to sprint past me, I started clapping feverishly again and barked out "Uagh! Uagh! Uagh!" I stuck out my hand as I sort of leaned forward. A couple of the parole officers and Spartan-Handlers actually gave me an "Ah - thanks, dude, these thugs are really tough to monitor!" Then, bringing up the rear was - and I now confidently say this – a coach who wished he was Brett Bielema. It was Mark Dantonio.
Dantonio looks right at me with my hand out as I'm saying, "Okay, Coach, we're pulling for ya, I know that the Outback Bowl is a crappy bowl and that it’s like the fifth best bowl a Big Ten team can get and that the Spartans had their best team that they will ever have and still don’t get to go to the Rose Bowl and Wisconsin always gets to go to the Rose Bowl and Michigan State will probably get beat in their bowl game by 60 points like they did last year and Michigan State is a joke of a school attended by total morons and…”
He interrupted, with tears welling up in his eyes "Are you done? Please….stop. Please". That's a direct quote.
And he dug in his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. “Please…give this to Brett Bielema?”
It was his resume.
I told him I would do what I could.
This was witnessed by a Tampa Meter Maid, who was providing the security for the Spartans football team (the great majority of the security being provided from the team). I walked over to her.
“That was just pathetic,” she said. “That was not a man, and that whole program looked like a bunch of losers.”
I told her that I actually wanted them to beat