I'm SURE that if anyone who really pays attention to college football actually posted on here, you would have soemthing much more foot-bally to say, but since it's me/the biggest homer around, I'm doing it...since you all are the biggest slackers I know!
IT IS SO AWESOME THAT USC GOT BEAT BY AN UNRANKED TEAM.
I heard on the CNN this morn that they "have zero chance of winning a national championship now."
Of course, I read that as...."SO THE HORNS CAN WIN ONE AGAIN."
HAH! Bitches.
Friday, September 26, 2008
Thursday, September 25, 2008
raiderHORN: THE NEW MISSION
my new goal for raiderHORN is that it be a tool in the fight against world hunger. the strategy is to lower the reckless waste of food in america by converting bulimics into anorexics.
who's in?
no one?
okay.
i guess i can finish up on my thoughts from the weekend, not that any of you sons of bitches read this thing anymore.
some really good things happened at ody's while cappy and i were watching the game. for one, we got to witness a really hideous affair. it pretty much changed my view of what cheating in america truly looks like. cheating is ugly. especially in salinas, california. watching this man grope at handfuls of his luva's fat rolls while she downed corona after corona and professed her love for said man, who i believe was a friend of her husband's, was truly terrifying. and hilarious. they were ugly, they were dumb and they were oblivious to how uncomfortable they were making the rest of us.
another great thing involved shaggy. lot's of shaggy. earlier that day cappy and i were cruising 17 mile drive in the tourist mobile with the top down and complaining about the lack of radio stations in the area. it was really bad. when we popped out in monterey i told her that there were only 2 records in the world that i wanted to be listening to at that moment: 'satellite rides' by the old 97s and shaggy's greatest hits. fast forward to 10:48 left in the second quarter and boom!: sweet, sweet music to my ears. it was the intro to the greatest shaggy song ever, "it wasn't me." so just as i'm realizing that i'm being treated to a 3 minute 43 second long eargasm, i see a WIDE OPEN jordan shipley receive a 30 yard td pass from little colty. it was like being blown my a care bear in mid stare. so nice. and then, for the next 2 hours, the shaggy mix (with a few additions) played on repeat. it was perfect.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AR4PGt9oOto
then we had to watch blaine irby's knee turn inside out:
that made me sad.
then we met a man named wayne. wayne is a retiree from phoenix who had to come to the bar for white wine because the guy he was staying with is a pretentious prick who won't let anybody drink white wine. so we talked and wayne bought us shots and we will remember him forever.
we also met a bartender who was really rich and did internet pilates (porn) and spoke like an idiot. we liked her too.
as for the game: it was solid. colt was 19-23 with 4 in the air and one on the ground. they gave up 17 rushing yards and were scored on in the second half for the first time all season. the 301 in the air given up was a problem, but stopping rice on 11 straight downs from the 2 was pretty amazing. i have confidence in these boys.
who's in?
no one?
okay.
i guess i can finish up on my thoughts from the weekend, not that any of you sons of bitches read this thing anymore.
some really good things happened at ody's while cappy and i were watching the game. for one, we got to witness a really hideous affair. it pretty much changed my view of what cheating in america truly looks like. cheating is ugly. especially in salinas, california. watching this man grope at handfuls of his luva's fat rolls while she downed corona after corona and professed her love for said man, who i believe was a friend of her husband's, was truly terrifying. and hilarious. they were ugly, they were dumb and they were oblivious to how uncomfortable they were making the rest of us.
another great thing involved shaggy. lot's of shaggy. earlier that day cappy and i were cruising 17 mile drive in the tourist mobile with the top down and complaining about the lack of radio stations in the area. it was really bad. when we popped out in monterey i told her that there were only 2 records in the world that i wanted to be listening to at that moment: 'satellite rides' by the old 97s and shaggy's greatest hits. fast forward to 10:48 left in the second quarter and boom!: sweet, sweet music to my ears. it was the intro to the greatest shaggy song ever, "it wasn't me." so just as i'm realizing that i'm being treated to a 3 minute 43 second long eargasm, i see a WIDE OPEN jordan shipley receive a 30 yard td pass from little colty. it was like being blown my a care bear in mid stare. so nice. and then, for the next 2 hours, the shaggy mix (with a few additions) played on repeat. it was perfect.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AR4PGt9oOto
then we had to watch blaine irby's knee turn inside out:
that made me sad.
then we met a man named wayne. wayne is a retiree from phoenix who had to come to the bar for white wine because the guy he was staying with is a pretentious prick who won't let anybody drink white wine. so we talked and wayne bought us shots and we will remember him forever.
we also met a bartender who was really rich and did internet pilates (porn) and spoke like an idiot. we liked her too.
as for the game: it was solid. colt was 19-23 with 4 in the air and one on the ground. they gave up 17 rushing yards and were scored on in the second half for the first time all season. the 301 in the air given up was a problem, but stopping rice on 11 straight downs from the 2 was pretty amazing. i have confidence in these boys.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
raiderHORN, your time was too short
is it ike? is that why there hasn't been a post in over a week? robert, i mean raiderHORN, do you have power? and what about matt's da'anus? no picks. no insight-less, mind numbing, pre-football weekend choosings?
i know i haven't done my share, but i suck at this stuff. i lost my ability to freestyle when i lost my will to find new employment and gave myself over to the darkside of flash games and hulu. but, since no one else will do it, here's a weekend recap:
the ol' captain and i went to california to live like the 10% and to celebrate my 30th birthday and, consequently, the loss of any sexual prowess i might have remaining. (not really, this instrument's got a lot sweeter with age... and viagra... tell'em, cap) i'd love to go into detail about the accommodations (wow), the views (super-wow), the meals (pretty damn wow) or the fact that it's the wednesday after and i don't even feel like it really happened (shit), but the only part that matters on this here blog is the game time experience.
we were faked out by the fox channel in the hotel that led us to believe that the game would be on in our room at 4pm. cap went down for a power nap around 3pm and i settled in with a stiffy (drink) and waited out the hour or so before kick off with a couple inconsequential football matches and highlights. when 4pm rolled around, much to our dismay, the fox sports channel was showing an infomercial involving a magic book that could heal all wounds. no, not the bible. some book full of home remedies for everything from diabetes to erectile dysfunction.
SHIT!
where the hell do you find a sports bar in a stuffy, yuppy haven like carmel?
i went down and asked the lady at the front desk who seemed disgusted that i would even ask such a question. as she gave me a list of places that "might" have tvs (she wouldn't know because she would never!) she told me a quick little tale of when arnold palmer came to the hotel bar to watch the masters and they went out and bought a tv for the bar so he could watch it. (why wasn't arnold at the masters? you might ask... he's an idiot)
it turned out the first place on the list, ody's, was perfect. there were four people in the bar, none of them watching tv, they had satellite, and the bartender handed the remote over so i could find the game. yeah! 3-7, texas. yeah!
bartender! couple of drinks!
here's how the rest of our game watching went...
"don't make eye contact."
ewwww!
oh shit. i'm going to throw up.
"like, totally."
"thanks, wayne."
and a lot of me hollering for the horns in between.
it's after 5pm and i need to go home. i'll explain the rest tomorrow.
i know i haven't done my share, but i suck at this stuff. i lost my ability to freestyle when i lost my will to find new employment and gave myself over to the darkside of flash games and hulu. but, since no one else will do it, here's a weekend recap:
the ol' captain and i went to california to live like the 10% and to celebrate my 30th birthday and, consequently, the loss of any sexual prowess i might have remaining. (not really, this instrument's got a lot sweeter with age... and viagra... tell'em, cap) i'd love to go into detail about the accommodations (wow), the views (super-wow), the meals (pretty damn wow) or the fact that it's the wednesday after and i don't even feel like it really happened (shit), but the only part that matters on this here blog is the game time experience.
we were faked out by the fox channel in the hotel that led us to believe that the game would be on in our room at 4pm. cap went down for a power nap around 3pm and i settled in with a stiffy (drink) and waited out the hour or so before kick off with a couple inconsequential football matches and highlights. when 4pm rolled around, much to our dismay, the fox sports channel was showing an infomercial involving a magic book that could heal all wounds. no, not the bible. some book full of home remedies for everything from diabetes to erectile dysfunction.
SHIT!
where the hell do you find a sports bar in a stuffy, yuppy haven like carmel?
i went down and asked the lady at the front desk who seemed disgusted that i would even ask such a question. as she gave me a list of places that "might" have tvs (she wouldn't know because she would never!) she told me a quick little tale of when arnold palmer came to the hotel bar to watch the masters and they went out and bought a tv for the bar so he could watch it. (why wasn't arnold at the masters? you might ask... he's an idiot)
it turned out the first place on the list, ody's, was perfect. there were four people in the bar, none of them watching tv, they had satellite, and the bartender handed the remote over so i could find the game. yeah! 3-7, texas. yeah!
bartender! couple of drinks!
here's how the rest of our game watching went...
"don't make eye contact."
ewwww!
oh shit. i'm going to throw up.
"like, totally."
"thanks, wayne."
and a lot of me hollering for the horns in between.
it's after 5pm and i need to go home. i'll explain the rest tomorrow.
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