I get in around 8:00 PM right from my last client of the day. Agent XI lives near a Domino's so I pick up some pizza. The new Domino's is pretty good. I don't notice the difference in the sauce but the crust is better. Kudos Dominos for making your pizza less sub par. Still cheap. Of course Agent XI and his friend Portland made the rookie mistake of grabbing the Buffalo Kickers with his pizza. They call those things kickers because it feels like someone was using your stomach as a soccer ball after you eat them. The poor boy is probably still on the toilet.
I grabbed my first Coors Light (left over from the Rodeo Festivus Holiday Party), checked on my bet (Alabama), and decided to play Modern Warfare for the first time. Game is pretty cool if you don't mind things like ridiculously stupid plots. The game centers around Russia paratrooping into the United States. That was a stretch in 80s with Red Dawn. However the constant cry of Wolverines! made you feel a bit better. Nowadays? Terrible. Strict to historical wars Call of Duty, thinking it is not your strong suit.
After dominating some sweet helicopter missions, I grabbed my second Coors Light and began taunting Colt McCoy. Apparently he must have heard me because he wussed out of the game pretty quickly. I also starting taunting McElroy, possibly the worst QB to ever lead his team to a national title, but McElroy must have been too busy screaming like a massive prick to hear. No wonder Nick Saban love the kid, he is a intolerable jerk and a Rhodes Scholar to boot!
After watching Texas get literally get run over by Ingram, the game became pretty uninteresting in the first half. To fill the time, we discussed the attractiveness of the Taco Bell Chick. You know the one that said she lost weight only eating Taco Bell. It was unanimously decided, that she was in fact extremely doable "fat" and may even been better in bed fat since she was pretty uppity thin and may lost that fat girl fervor.
Then came halftime. I proposed that we made a bet at halftime to keep the game interesting. Agent XI and Portland agreed, however I should have noticed that they were under the influence of Domino's Buffalo Kickers. At first I wanted to bet the over at 14 however as I distracted myself with thoughts of taking the Before Taco Bell Diet Chick out to a nice seafood dinner, the Buffalo Kicker Twins somehow convinced me to bet the line for Alabama. Thankfully I was not under the influence of those spicy colon destroying hallucinogens and only made a small bet instead doubling up my bet for the game. Honestly betting +9 instead of 14 under/over? Jimmy the Greek would beat us with Howard Cosell's toupee. But I suppose people under duress do crazy things, and right then Agent XI and Portland were losing an intestinal war.
Right around my third Coors Light, Mark Ingram's vagina became very sandy. He decided to go hang out with Colt McCoy in the Ladies Locker Room. And that is when my new man crush emerged, Garrett Gilbert. I am not going to lie. I laughed my ass off at Gilbert in the first half. Why not? The man was winning me money. But considering the fact that this kid hadn't taken a hit since high school (huge jump from high school to the FBS championship game) and his coach was Mack Brown (who spent twenty minutes trying to tie his shoe), that second half was the most literally unbelievable performance I have ever seen in college football.
I starting cheering for Gilbert at the end. This guy has balls and considering McCoy is a raging pussy and McElroy might cry even more than Ben Roethlisberger, Gilbert looked like the man out there. Too bad Mack Brown was a edging out Saban for worst coaching performance ever in FBS game else you might as well had Gilbert walk out to the Foo Fighters playing in the background. It was better than a crappy Hollywood football movie. Gilbert just tore apart an amazing Alabama defense. It wasn't until Mack Brown was trying to remember what the rabbit ran behind and forgot to put in a blocking scheme that Gilbert gave the game up. The last interceptions was just a receiver handing the ball off to a corner.
Now I hate the Big 12. I find their fans insufferable and the conference horrendously overrated. I will go with SEC over the Big 12 15 out of 10 times and twice on Sunday. But I am instituting a Gilbert exception right now. For the next two or three years I will cheer for Texas on the sole reason Gilbert has massive balls. Even though their schedule next year is softer than the sweet touch of my new imaginary girlfriend Before Taco Bell Diet Chick, I will cheer for Texas unless by some miracle they go up against Notre Dame. I will even take them over a Big East team. Sure some part of me feels like cheering for Texas will be like trying to digest Buffalo Kicker but in the end I still get to hate Bob Stoops and that is what really matters.
Pretty soft Thursday but I am going to Fenway tonight for BC v. BU hockey game. The beer there should be cold.
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