Good afternoon. Yes, it is very slow news-wise in college football, which is why this apex of Floridaness is making the hot rounds. Just...click it if you are at all curious about anything. NSFW, probably.
Lane Kiffin offense slammed two touchdowns into our side, chief. It was the Georgia Dome, just delivered the division title. The SEC East title. One hundred men went onto the turf. Vessel went down in twelve minutes. Didn't see the first shark for about a half an hour. Tider. Thirteen footer. You know how you know that when you're on the turf, chief? You tell by lookin' from the dorsal to the tail. What we didn't know... was our division championship had been so secret, no distress signal had been sent. Huh huh. They didn't even list us overdue for a week. Very first light, chief. The Bammers come cruisin'. So we formed ourselves into tight groups. You know it's... kinda like ol' squares in battle like a, you see on a calendar, like the battle of Waterloo. And the idea was, the shark comes to the nearest man and that man, he'd start poundin' and hollerin' and screamin' and sometimes the shark would go away. Sometimes he wouldn't go away. Sometimes that shark, he looks right into you. Right into your eyes. You know the thing about Nick Saban, he's got...lifeless eyes, black eyes, like a doll's eye. When he comes at ya, doesn't seem to be livin'. Until he bites ya and those black eyes roll over white. And then, ah then you hear that terrible high pitch screamin' and the Georgia Dome turns red and spite of all the poundin' and the hollerin' they all come in and rip you to pieces. Y'know by the end of that first quarter, lost a hundred men! I don't know how many sharks, maybe a thousand! I don't know how many men, they averaged six an hour. On Saturday night chief, I bumped into a player of mine, Luke Del Rio from Santa Rosa Beach. Football player, boson's mate. I thought he was asleep, reached over to wake him up. Bobbed up and down in the water, just like a kinda top. Up ended. Well... he'd been bitten in half below the waist. Midway the fourth quarter, Mr. Lundquist, a Chick-fil-A blimp saw us, he swung in low and he saw us. He's a young pilot, a lot younger than Mr. Danielson, anyway he saw us and come in low. And three hours later a big fat chicken blimp comes down and start to pick us up. You know that was the time I was most frightened? Waitin' for my turn. I'll never put on a whistle again. So, one hundred men went on the turf, three men come out, the sharks took the rest, December the 3, 2016.
Anyway, we delivered the bomb.