After two decades on this site, this is my NUMBER ONE RULE. Don’t do it.
If your making a claim, a statement, a posturing, a rule of thumb, an observation, if your staking a position, if you’re drunk, sober, high, scintillating smart or stunningly stupid, post it in someone else’s thread.
Because it is stupefyingly easy to make you answer for a stupid thread you create, and a pointlessly impossible effort to try and dig up your brain fart if it’s buried in either a game thread or even someone else’s stupid brain fart thread that you happen to wade into.
But. But. But. (Because everything is better in threes. Including buts). Rules are made to be violated, if those ways cannot be deemed violent or unpleasant. So. At the moment I am I’m drunk. A good hard food drunk on an excessive quantity of absurdly pleasing sushi along with a mild and very pleasant buzz associated with the accompanying saki I consumed as an important digestive.
Consequently, I am feeling my oats, as they say. Which just now for the first time in my life strikes me as one of the most bizarre things a person can say. I have no oats. I eat them. I do not possess them.
But I’m feeling that which I do not possess. In this case, oats. And wherever they are, I have both hands wrapped firmly around them.
And so I am going on record … and I don’t give two twats what any of you yahoos think, or bookmark, or hope to regurgitate in a poisonously spiteful future bump … I am here to say:
Sark killed it with the hire of Kenny Baker. Sark is a mage. He’s a rainmaker. He sees the future. And he knows that Baker is going to be extraordinary at Texas. As he has apparently been every stop he has taken.
On down the road, when he is a coordinator, then a head coach, when he is a familiar name that every internet board full of sports nerds who think they are smarter than the average bear covets for his services, you will be able to find me right here. Saying Yes! I’m an old fart, and am lucky if I can wake up in the morning and can remember how to operate a fork. But I called Kenny Baker’s success just 12 hours after Sark recognized his potential.
Every freshman who enters UT isn’t shit. What UT is great at is burping out extraordinary leaders, artists, chemists, theorists, philosophers, athletes and dreamers when they leave.
And speaking of dreamers, I’m going to bed. See you yahoos tomorrow.
If your making a claim, a statement, a posturing, a rule of thumb, an observation, if your staking a position, if you’re drunk, sober, high, scintillating smart or stunningly stupid, post it in someone else’s thread.
Because it is stupefyingly easy to make you answer for a stupid thread you create, and a pointlessly impossible effort to try and dig up your brain fart if it’s buried in either a game thread or even someone else’s stupid brain fart thread that you happen to wade into.
But. But. But. (Because everything is better in threes. Including buts). Rules are made to be violated, if those ways cannot be deemed violent or unpleasant. So. At the moment I am I’m drunk. A good hard food drunk on an excessive quantity of absurdly pleasing sushi along with a mild and very pleasant buzz associated with the accompanying saki I consumed as an important digestive.
Consequently, I am feeling my oats, as they say. Which just now for the first time in my life strikes me as one of the most bizarre things a person can say. I have no oats. I eat them. I do not possess them.
But I’m feeling that which I do not possess. In this case, oats. And wherever they are, I have both hands wrapped firmly around them.
And so I am going on record … and I don’t give two twats what any of you yahoos think, or bookmark, or hope to regurgitate in a poisonously spiteful future bump … I am here to say:
Sark killed it with the hire of Kenny Baker. Sark is a mage. He’s a rainmaker. He sees the future. And he knows that Baker is going to be extraordinary at Texas. As he has apparently been every stop he has taken.
On down the road, when he is a coordinator, then a head coach, when he is a familiar name that every internet board full of sports nerds who think they are smarter than the average bear covets for his services, you will be able to find me right here. Saying Yes! I’m an old fart, and am lucky if I can wake up in the morning and can remember how to operate a fork. But I called Kenny Baker’s success just 12 hours after Sark recognized his potential.
Every freshman who enters UT isn’t shit. What UT is great at is burping out extraordinary leaders, artists, chemists, theorists, philosophers, athletes and dreamers when they leave.
And speaking of dreamers, I’m going to bed. See you yahoos tomorrow.
