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    <iframe width="560" height="315" src="" allowfullscreen="true"></iframe>

    Yes, this is a few months old, but fathering this legendary has no expiration date. You may see this as a child's simple joy, and it is. But respect the brilliant harness work on that seat. The man appears to have strung a four point harness through a carseat, a feat that anyone who's shed tears trying to properly install even a regular child's safety seat knows is a feat of engineering. Look at it: it's perfect. The seat only wiggles a little, and what doesn't when you're melting four perfectly good tires in the name of making your child scream with pure joy? I am a failure as a father after watching this. We are all failures as fathers as long as this man can frolic in his roaring drift-beast of a Subaru. I am going to find this man. I am going to hunt him down and either defeat him, or learn his ways and surpass him. I have no other choices.

    (Via Jalopnik)

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    "Push Gatorade cart up ramp"

    Give us a widget that turns tweets into actual structured poems, and we will give you the best accidental poetry of college football.

    1. @finebaum FinebaumPoem

    2. @DavidPollack47


    3. @CoachLesMiles


    4. @CHECKDAT6

    5. @IlliniFootball

    6. @FauxPelini


    7. @unklelukereal1


    8. @TomahawkNation


    9. @dannykanell


    10. @CoachSumlin


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    I'll never get a chance to win an SEC Title.


    I'll never get a chance to learn to fly, or sail around the world with my best friend, The Sugar Bowl Trophy.


    I'll never have a chance to get married, or win another national championship.


    I'll never get a chance to do any of that, because my athletic director hired Will Muschamp as my head coach.


    Nationwide: never forget that your children and your football program could die at any second of any day. Never.

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    The school tried to make Waco sound as if it's right on the cusp of a food renaissance, but it already offers so much for hungry athletes.

    Recruiting means telling lies, but really, Baylor? REALLY.

    Pappas Restaurants group Spokeswoman Christina Pappas on Monday debunked the claims that the company would be building an eatery in Waco. "We are not building any locations in Waco," Pappas said in an email to the Tribune-Herald.

    That came from a poster used on a Baylor recruiting visit that listed several chains as "COMING TO WACO SOON," only two of which were confirmed by the Waco Tribune as actually coming to the area: Potbelly Sandwich Works and Uncle Mario's Brick Oven Pizza. The rest? Pure "speculation," per Baylor associate athletics director Nick Joos, including the listing of In-N-Out, Pappasito's, and Whole Foods.

    Since it is recruiting season and lying is technically legal for a few months, we'll let it slide. But why lie about things you don't have, Baylor, and instead focus on important real assets?

    Like, say, a real, outstanding stat you have in your favor that matters to young recruits fond of fried chain restaurant food: the all-important Chick-fil-A Per Resident Ratio, or CFAPRR.

    Big 12 CFAPRR

    1. Morgantown, West Virginia: 1/30,293
    2. Lubbock, Texas: 1/38,957
    3. Waco: 1/42,232
    4. Stillwater, Oklahoma: 1/46,048
    5. Manhattan, Kansas: 1/52,281
    6. Norman, Oklahoma: 1/56,636
    7. Lawrence, Kansas: 1/88,727
    8. Fort Worth, Texas: 1/264,262
    9. Austin, Texas: 1/273,537
    10. Ames Iowa: 0/0, does not have Chick-fil-A (No we're not counting the one 27 miles away in Ankeny.)

    Baylor's third in the conference in CFAPRR. The Bears can honestly say they can offer the deeply personalized, custom chain food restaurant experience athletes crave, and all without having to go to the closest thing college football has to the Moon (Lubbock) or Mordor (Morgantown) to do it.

    That's practically an artisanal fast food experience you've got there, Waco. Eat that, snob-ass Austinites.

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    FLORIDA IS GETTING (checks notes) RE-CRU-ITS?

    A recruit newly committed to the University of Florida shows up in Gainesville.

    Shoo! Get out of here! I'll get the hose!

    [calls HP customer service]
    No, I can't find the serial number. I just need you to send me the driver disk? I think?

    I...I gave him ibuprofen four hours ago. Can I give him chocolate milk? Is he like a dog, and can't have chocolate? Is chocolate protein powder technically chocolate? Is this running back a dog?

    [looks at IKEA instructions for LEFTGUÅRD] Wait, am I supposed to hammer the dowels in? And why do I have two extra cam locks? Is it supposed to lean that way? Why didn't I listen when it said I should assemble this with a friend?

    Just shut up and Google "is a recruit dryclean only."

    Does he have a trial period? Can he be returned? Does he return me? Are there receipts involved? If he has water damage, does insurance cover it? What if he has mold? Or is a Florida Panther? WHAT IF HE'S A FLORIDA PANTHER WITH MOLD? There's not a law written that explains what to do with that.

    What if this isn't even for us? Things get misdelivered all the time. Should we just leave him out on the stoop with a note that says "WRONG ADDRESS - SORRY" on his forehead? Do we need to put stamps on him too? And what if he's left at the delivery center all night? I should strap snacks to him. Give him batteries, too. In case it's a cyborg. That's what they eat.

    Does it go to school? I mean, where does it go in the daytime? It's gonna need so many things. It can't just have a backpack, it's got to have, like, a cool backpack. Like one shaped like R2D2 or something. He'll need those light-up shoes, too, because those are still awesome. WAIT. Maybe it's nocturnal. Is a recruit like a kinkajou? I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH ONE OF THOSE. Maybe I could just drop it off at school and say he had a gland condition and that if you said he was maybe actually a kinkajou it'd make him cry.

    That's what I'll do.Hold on, I'm going to try to make contact with it. Everyone stand back.
    [clicks laser pointer on and off repeatedly]
    [plays "Karma Chameleon" on Casio]

    Hmm. Let's try it with "Eternal Flame."

    Wait. What if this is a trap? What if this is just a humanoid shell full of tiny Florida State students shrunken down, waiting to burst out of it in the middle of the night like a wasp's nest full of 2.8 GPAs?

    I'm going to give it the Jon Voight test to make sure it's not a replicant.

    Is he going to need an allowance? I-[looks off-camera]
    OH HE WON'T NEED MONEY. JUST THESE SNACKS AND CLASSES WILL BE ENOUGH. THAT'S ALL HE'S GOING TO NEED. [/cranes neck at man sitting at nearby Waffle House and smiling] GO GATORS

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    WE BACK. The National Signing Day podcast discusses, among other things:

    • the unfortunate weight gain of recruiting season for coaches,
    • the inevitable squandering of talent by brand and by team after all the excitement of getting it
    • the most exciting 8-4 Sun Bowl Team Steve Sarkisian will ever assemble
    • who's cheating and/or improved their benefits package this year
    • how Mike Leach recruits via conversation, the worst football plays we've ever seen, and the only proper way to declare your intent to attend Notre Dame.

    Listen in the Soundcloud player below, subscribe on iTunes under the Sports tag on Podcasts, or download directly here.

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    Congratulations to Head Coach Toilet, and all the other Coach Toilets out there on a successful Signing Day.

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    10. Wazzu.

    [/Mike Leach voice]

    There's a lot of ways to recruit, you see. The Navajo, they used to say that if something was touched by lightning, well then, you'd have to purify that. Well see, this recruiting class was like an eagle, just way over what we were doing, soaring high and up into the stratosphere where we rarely go. Then lightning struck, and yanno, you know how that goes when millions of volts of electricity meet tender living flesh.

    It's not good. It's just not good.


    So we caught fire, got up on the scoreboard, caught fire in a different and bad way,  gave up a bunch of points, and still ended up winning. Sounds like Coug football to me. Great class, just needs a Navajo purification ceremony. Funny thing about those...

    [/three hour discussion of Navajo purification ceremonies]

    [/end Mike Leach voice]

    9. Florida. The only people giving you any real, stupid drama on Signing Day, and perhaps for a few days afterwards. You're welcome. Signed, The Biggest Ongoing Inexplicable Car Crash in College Football For Five or Six Years and Running.

    8. San Jose State. A 3-9 Spartans team managed to sign approximately a thousand three-star recruits and bested a whole mess of Big Five programs, so let's assume they're either opening an elaborate blackmail operation at SJSU or funneling Silicon Valley money into player development. They even recruited a better class than Iowa! This doesn't really say anything, but it's still fun to point out! (P.S. Iowa signed Brady Reiff, the brother of ol' Tiny Arms, but did not recruit a long-snapper or punter. A bittersweet class, in other words.)

    7. Tennessee. We don't really care about the estimated particulars and stars. They recruited Preston Williams and signed him, and that is all that matters here.

    The rest of the SEC is so, so fucked, and that's before we tell you that they signed a jolly defensive linemen in a bucket hat. A BUCKET HAT. DO YOU NOT RECOGNIZE FEAR, AND ITS PROPER FACE?

    6. Arkansas. Signed a giant Danish dude named Hjalte Froholdt, which is something we would write into a fanfic/erotica piece about Bret Bielema's ultimate signing day wet dream scenario. That includes not signing an offensive linemen coming out of high school who weighs less than 280 pounds. Bret Bielema's going to eventually have the Arkansas locker room looking like the leisure deck on that space-cruise liner in Wall-E by the time he's done.

    5. Virginia Tech.  Signed this dude, a large man in a bucket hat, and another guy named "Mook Reynolds", so it's an automatic classic without any further examination.

    4. Notre Dame. Not just an objectively perfect class because they signed a multi-lingual prodigy named Equanimeous St. Brown, but because they filled so many slots Notre Dame loves to have. They signed Nicco Fertitta, who checks off the required boxes of a. Italian safety Northeastern ND fans will automatically love, and b.) is already rich as an heir to an MMA fortune, and thus not contaminated with poor person germs Irish fans live in mortal fear of catching. A class that fulfills general and specific needs, and also features a Bo Wallace impostor named "Bo Wallace"? Rousing success all around.

    3. Alabama. Has a signee named "Christian Bell," and dammit--

    kristiaannne baaiiillllle

    2. Ole Miss. Signed Chad Kelly, thus automatically ensuring Ole Miss will be The Most Chad Kelly Team Available.

    1. BYU. Now has a gigantic and not-at-all-fat and surprisingly jacked 410 pound man from Tonga who primarily played rugby in high school. Either he'll be a bust and get a free education, or he'll be the first man to throw another football player into the side of the Wasatch Range like an errant mortar shell. The winners by default.

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    1. Someone had to do it, and of course that someone is an asshole who lives in Brooklyn. Fortunately, this particular asshole did a really good job of channeling Florida Man. It's a hair under 50 minutes of long stares into cameras, random discussions about fighting, pills, taking three naps a day, dogs, watching the sunset, getting arrested, how we're all just stardust, and about the difference between being dumb and stupid.

    2. The following points are things that are completely fucking on point here.

    3. Dudes who got DUIs toodling around on bikes.

    4. Random guy outside a hotel toting a car battery into a room

    5. Random guy at the laundromat with his pit bull talking about busting another guy in the face with brass knuckles.

    6. Same random guy talking about hopping a train to escape the police.

    7. This guy and his wife, who appear to be the happiest people on the planet.


    8. A huge chunk of this being shot in Tampa/St. Pete.

    9. The biker guy doing tai chi in the parking lot of a tattoo parlor at night

    10. The liquor store owner just talkin' about the Lightning's chances in the playoffs while smoking

    11. The guy talking about how dirty a pond is and how people litter and throw garbage everywhere

    12. That same guy pointing out a bike he just threw into the pond

    13. Dude getting deep philosophical in front of a Waffle House

    14. This guy:


    15. The bike-throwing littering guy saying "life can end at anytime" while wearing a Jets hat.

    Good morning, you can watch it, you didn't need to get anything done today.

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    Tom Crean can't help himself, so neither can the general public from ridiculing every defensive breakdown and bad haircut.

    What is wrong with Tom Crean? That's a great question. That's what you say when someone asks a really good question, i.e. one you you do not have the answer for at all. You can start with this: Basketball coaches are categorically strange. They live indoors and rarely see the sun in a way that would bother even the most callous military officer. I'm saying that because I remember reading about soldiers on the Maginot Line during World War I, and how they would lie under lamps to simulate the sun their jobs stole from them. The French grow mushrooms in those buildings now. You could probably do the same in what we imagine to be Tom Crean's dark, horrifying office.

    Okay, well, how about we start with his hair? Tom Crean in a group of strange people seems especially strange. Gene Keady, an otherwise competent and successful person, chose to do this to his hair on purpose. It took two decades for Rick Pitino to go easy on the gel and stop doing the Wall Street '88 special with his hair. His protege, Billy Donovan at Florida, still hasn't given it up, and probably never will. Tom Izzo's hair seems to be the default, the result of washing it, placing it as far back as it can go on the head, and hoping it dries in a neat, even swirl like he's just gone through a human version of a car wash. (This is when Tom Izzo is not playing accordion in a Kiss cover band. I told you: weird.)

    Tom Crean in a group of strange people seems especially strange.

    Even here, you have to give Tom Crean some special mention. Tom Crean's got what can only be best described as a "butt cut." It's the hair of a demented stableboy or cartoon knight's squire. The last person who had Tom Crean's hair was the French composer Gabriel Faure, or maybe Nicholas Cage in Next. It's the greatest of mysteries: the strange thing done not on accident once, but repeatedly and on purpose.

    And what about his pants? I don't know. They never fit, and he's forever in a war to cinch them somewhere between his nipples and his hipbones. They might be haunted pants, wandering his body in search of vengeance on the tailor who wronged them by putting them on Tom Crean. They don't fit, and never will. Tom Crean has terrible pants, and after three crap seasons of rebuilding finished his fourth season in Bloomington with a Big Ten regular season title in 2012-2013, the school's first outright regular season conference title since 1993. Crean was also successful with his horrible pants at Marquette, leading them to a Final Four. He's a very good basketball coach and there is lots of evidence to back up this assertion.

    Then why does this happen? You're pointing to a real-time search of "Tom Crean" on the Internet during Indiana games. You're suggesting we look at Twitter and see the anger of Indiana fans who, even during Indiana wins, see Tom Crean's bad hair, worse pants, and inability to deal with a zone defense and scream bloody murder. Well, we did, and it was extremely entertaining.

    This is just a dip in the waters:

    That doesn't seem very fair, even by the standards of coach-hating, does it? No, not at all. That's above your usual standard of coach-hating. It means somewhere along the way, working next to the great industrial shredder of coaching, some part of Tom Crean got stuck in the machinery.

    Multiple parts, actually: first the letdown of the 2013-2014 season where the Hoosiers finished in the bottom half of the Big Ten, then the erratic 2014-2015 season where the losses, when they've happened, have been rank clanking fiascoes. The Hoosiers lost by 12 to Ohio State, by 16 to reviled in-state rival Purdue, and by 20 to Michigan State. In all of them, it's not just that Tom Crean looked lost. He looked like a lost Tom Crean, a thing more lost-looking in the moment than most lost-looking things, tugging at his horrible pants, swatting around his hopeless haircut, and driving Indiana fans to the brink of madness by refusing to take timeouts.

    That may be why he's so fascinating. All coaches serve as brick-eating targets for fans. It is part of their job, and certainly part of Tom Crean's extremely lucrative, millionaire-grade pay as Indiana head coach. Most coaches handle this by blanding down and creating a veneer of coachspeak, grim nodding, and wordless, stony stoicism. It makes winning a little less bloating; it gives something close to dignity in defeat. (Even the famously individualistic Pete Carroll works in a healthy amount of pablum, something that helped him tamp down the furor in the wake of one of the more controversial NFL play calls of the millennium.)

    He's a jock with twerp DNA, a middle school principal sweatily dropping the mike at an assembly.

    Then why doesn't Tom Crean do that? Probably because he can't. Tom Crean simply can't do that. He's too successful to be dismissed outright as a long-term solution for Indiana, and too flawed not to worry over. Worse yet for Crean, he's one of the least-bulletproof coaches around in terms of how he looks just standing there.  Tom Crean is the kid in class who you almost can't help but bully, because really: once he annoyed you, his pants looked worse, didn't they? His hair, his oddball expressions -- they all got more punchable by degrees once he lost to Purdue, right, even if you didn't care?

    That's the marvel of Tom Crean. Even in a time when all coaches serve as paid punching bags for fans, Tom Crean is the one that makes a whimpering sound and lights up when hit. He's a jock with twerp DNA, a middle school principal sweatily dropping the mike at an assembly, a shooting range target that's 100 percent center mass. He's uniquely mockable in spite of his talent as a coach, even with Indiana at 17-7 this year, and probably comfortably bound for the NCAA Tournament. The man responsible looks seconds away from a nervous breakdown at all times. I hope they win it all, if only to watch Tom Crean hike his pants up to his neck while chewing on the net he's just cut down and eaten whole.

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    If Rutgers is thinking about hiring a recruiting coordinator whose only real contribution to the program has been money and financial consulting, it's time to take the next step in college football evolution with them. Your football program has hired a MAN WITH CASH to recruit players, and it's long past time for it.

    What are MAN WITH CASH's talents? He has money, and will give it to recruits. In exchange for money and the services it can purchase for the recruit, the recruit will work as a football player for the university's semi-professional football team.

    What will MAN WITH CASH do when he is out of cash? Easy. He will go get more, probably from lucrative TV contracts, or perhaps from the rich-ass people who support the football program because they are bored, and like to own things and push them around the playpen they call life.

    What, besides money, will MAN WITH CASH bring to the program? Nothing. He will bring nothing else to the program but money. He will easily be the most popular and beloved person associated with the entire program so long as he continues to dispense money.

    What if other people also find a MAN WITH CASH? Other programs will, and then they will have to create a new position called MAN WITH MORE CASH. This will escalate until a market is created. Subsequent interactions will likely follow that market.

    This sounds like how everything else in the world works, for the most part, right? Yes. This is how we've agreed to do things in most of the world. You do work, and you mostly get paid for it at discriminatory rates depending on who you are, and whether people hate you because of your gender or race. It's bad. It's a terrible system and like most terrible things it is wildly popular.

    Isn't this what we have in college football already buddy? Alabama gets most of the recruits in college football and has an economy the size of Iran's. You go look at the number of houses in Alabama without doors or electricity and tell us whether that's a realistic market economy where big money at work wins out in the end.

    How do I apply for the MAN WITH CASH position? Show up to the football program with money. They'll do the rest. And get on it: Stanford and Vanderbilt needs to start flexing for real.

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    He did it. Most of us talk about maxing out our potential in such vague, aimless, and hopelessly ambitious ways, but this creature--this creature did it.


    This crocodile lived longer than you probably will, making it to an estimated one hundred years old living in the wild. They did something else you probably won't do, living a life as a demigod fed by passing locals who believed throwing a chicken down his throat would lead them to good fortune. This crocodile had three settings: eat, sleep, and survive, and it did all of them so well that it did something which is only a failure in mankind's realm: it became gloriously, smugly obese. It even outlasted others in the art of gluttony: three other crocodiles who couldn't hack his boss lifestyle in the same pond died from croco-gout, or whatever ridiculously ballin'-ass crocodiles on the demigod route die of in the half-wild.

    It even died a celebrity's death: found bloated and unresponsive in a pool, basically. This Crocodile is the most successful animal we know. It did not die from undereating, but instead auto-terminated after determining that this planet, even at its most luxe, still could not meet the limits of his voracious demands for luxury. Live at half its level, and consider yourself a rampaging success.

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    That's Ole Miss wide receiver Laquon Treadwell running. This is what athletes do normally and without much fanfare, but Laquon Treadwell is the guy you last remember running towards the endzone for a game-winning TD against Auburn on November 1st before...well, before he was tackled from behind, suffered a horrendous leg injury, fumbled the ball as a result of the pain, and played a brutal role in the worst ending to a football game we've ever seen. So this is running, sure. It's also a fantastic sight to see just four and a half months after utter disaster.

    (P.S. That's Denzel Nkemdiche running next to him. He is not a slow man.)

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    George Washington. Famous for being first, but hasn't done anything in centuries. RUTGERS

    John Adams. Sort of forgotten and small and lost to Thomas Jefferson so...WAKE FOREST

    Thomas Jefferson. Bought Louisiana, had zero scruples, drank hard, and invented the disgraceful sex scandal. LSU

    James Madison. Tiny, but punched well above his weight, and lasted way longer in the game than he had any right to via craftiness. BOISE STATE

    James Monroe. Known for having financial difficulties. MARYLAND

    John Quincy Adams. Thorny bastard who swam naked in rivers for fun and had big-ass sideburns. WEST VIRGINIA

    Andrew Jackson. Completely insane. Noted for exaggerated sense of hurt feelings versus imagined, fantastical notion of honor. Played weak schedule versus outnumbered opponents. Didn't graduate high school. Wildly successful and generally reviled. FLORIDA STATE

    Martin Van Buren. Tiny alcoholic without much of a record from New York. BUFFALO

    William Henry Harrison. Was on top for like, thirty days once. BYU

    John Tyler. Would have rather been farming, honestly. IOWA STATE

    James K. Polk. Blew up the tiny United States from the WAC-sized niblet it was prior to his Presidency to a full Power Five-sized behemoth. TCU

    Zachary Taylor. Died mysteriously. PITT

    Millard Fillmore. "What's he doing on this list? Was he ever President? That wasn't just a thing they made up just to name schools on television shows after him? Really? He was President, of our country? Why is Dan Hawkins running away from his body with a dagger?" COLORADO

    Franklin Pierce. A "popular and outgoing" man with dismal luck, a ferocious drinking problem, and a scanty resume. WAZZU

    James Buchanan. Poorly organized, ineffectual, and harbinger of disaster. The dreary Forever Alone of American Presidents. PURDUE

    Abraham Lincoln. Perhaps our greatest President, savior of the Union, and dead. NOTRE DAME

    Andrew Johnson. Known primarily for "secluding himself in order to avoid public embarrassment." ILLINOIS

    Ulysses S. Grant. Spectacularly corrupt, wildly popular, prone to drinking, and known mostly for being good at something else entirely. KENTUCKY

    Rutherford B. Hayes. Got where they are via shady backroom politics; big fan of gold standard to back all that green. BAYLOR

    James A. Garfield. Spoke a lot of languages, was super smart, and didn't do much because he died before he could ever get to the endzone. Would have been the first person to tell you how smart he was, too. NORTHWESTERN

    Chester A. Arthur. Didn't really try to do anything other than pay the bills. The well-considered punt of Presidents. IOWA

    Grover Cleveland. Big, unremarkably remarkable, forceful, and suffered horrendous defeat before reclaiming the title out of sheer will and tenacity. Once wrote: "sensible and responsible women do not want to vote" in an article in Ladies Home Journal, which is really the most Michigan Mansplaining thing to do ever.  MICHIGAN

    Benjamin Harrison. From Ohio and didn't really do much. OHIO

    Grover Cleveland. Big, unremarkably remarkable, forceful, and suffered horrendous defeat before reclaiming the title out of sheer will and tenacity. Once wrote: "sensible and responsible women do not want to vote" in Ladies Home Journal, which specifically is the most 1891 Jonathan Chait thing ever. MICHIGAN

    William McKinley. Was goaded into war by the press, wound up being shot by an unemployed anarchist. THE NCAA.

    Theodore Roosevelt. A raging, half-mad, football-obsessed egomaniac obsessed with war, shooting people, being shot, killing animals, punching people, being punched,  and generally proving himself to be the baddest man in the room despite being born into every advantage on the planet in his chosen sphere. Counted more territories as his than he actually had. ALABAMA

    William Howard Taft. Any ambition and talent the man had was overshadowed by his very public battles with self-defeating behaviors. OKLAHOMA.

    Woodrow Wilson. Made up nonsensical garbage conferences to serve his own needs. TEXAS

    Warren G. Harding. Beloved criminal with absolutely no talents besides being handsome, charming, and prone to corruption and infidelity. SMU

    Calvin Coolidge. Kept a low profile and said as little as possible, which allowed him to dodge responsibility for any problems that began during his tenure but did not manifest until after his departure. NEBRASKA..

    Herbert Hoover. Should probably just have stuck to his first love of mining. UTEP

    Franklin Delano Roosevelt. Won multiple titles; waged war in three directions; not afraid to try to pack a few courts to get what he wanted. MIAMI

    Harry Truman. Cussed a lot, won close contests, had the occasional disaster. Known mostly for a famous tie with North Korea. MICHIGAN STATE

    Dwight D. Eisenhower. Known for producing ineffectual subordinates and would rather be at Augusta National. GEORGIA

    John F. Kennedy. Spent a good portion of the day with his pants down or looking for amphetamines. Bought titles for the whole family? AUBURN

    Lyndon B. Johnson. Known for continuing a long war he could not possibly win. Like a certain mascot, was known for pooping in front of people. TEXAS A&M

    Richard Nixon. A vacated title, you say? USC

    Gerald Ford. Fell down a lot and was a good sport about it. Exhibited questionable judgment by showing exceeding generosity to a publicly disliked and disgraced leader. KANSAS

    Jimmy Carter. No one's still really sure how this happened. GEORGIA TECH

    Ronald Reagan. If you hate him, talking about him to one of his lifelong fans is the greatest waste of time, and the reverse is equally true. The simplest course is to just pretend you're not familiar with his work. PENN STATE

    George H.W. Bush. Turned a relatively minor political family into a dynasty only to watch some idiot who'd been stashed in Texas turn it into a disgraceful joke. FLORIDA

    Bill Clinton. Massive failures, massive comebacks, more massive failures, and a propensity for getting caught with their pants down in so many ways. Prone to bloat. ARKANSAS


    Barack Obama. Blows up people with illegal robots. Cardale Jones is basically an illegal robot, right? OHIO STATE

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    Mid-February in the South and its brutal fifty degree temperatures drive the spry young frat boys of the SEC to cabin fever. Cabin fever induces madness; madness begets behavior forcing the observer to break out the dumbass bingo card.

    For example: did two fraternities on the campus of the University of Georgia get into a fight? Yes, probably while peeing on nearby trees to mark territory, and rubbing freshly sprouted antlers on nearby cars. Did this fight result in gunfire? Of course it did. Did this gunfire allegedly take place from the balcony of a giant, ramshackle house painted to look like an antebellum mansion that still resembled a Branch Davidian compound home? You bet it did.

    Was this person the president of the fraternity? OF COURSE HE WAS. Golf-deprivation madness is real, and if it doesn't stop raining in Athens there will be real casualties. This man will be the governor of Georgia in 2032, and will be elected on a platform of pushing for the legal carry and implantation of guns in utero. "If you're serious about protecting the unborn, you'll let them exercise their god-given rights from the moment of conception. Also, we're gonna invade Tennessee for their water." [RIOTOUS APPLAUSE]

    The other example shows how far-flung that wintry madness can fly. That guy who was gored in Pamplona Ciudad Rodrigo this year? Oh man I bet he's an SEC frat boy. You bet your ass he is. He's from Ole Miss, isn't he? Check. But he's not even one of those dudes from Mississippi who's just trying to get a degree, but one of those guys from like Franklin, TN or Marietta who goes to Ole Miss to try on the casual racism brand they think they're gonna get there? Where they can listen to David Allen Coe unironically, and get cheap coke from Memphis on road trips? Yup, this gentleman is from Marietta, Georgia.

    Did the bull get him in the ass? Well, here's the AP.

    Miller underwent a three-hour operation to repair damage to thighs, sphincter and back muscles, Crespo said.

    There's photos, too, if you want to see the face of someone realizing in real-time what a terrible idea it is to dare a bull to do something. This has been your latest in SEC Frat Boy Farm Reports. Good morning, and expect obvious, terrible updates as Mardi Gras comes to a close today in New Orleans.

    [/cues up "Rednecks" by Randy Newman]

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    The Westminster Dog Show reviews its most massive and terrifying group tonight, the Working Group.

    Thus follows a terrifying review of the working group, mostly comprised of dogs designed for war, controlling huge animals, the pursuit of frightened humans, and for invasions of other planets.


    Japanese breed whose name means exactly what it is: "large." Stoic, silent protectors bred when a lonely 17th century woodcutter carved the first Akita into existence to make his only friend in the world. The Akita leapt from the picture and killed his creator, but not before the lonely woodcutter croaked out his famous last words: "At last, friendship." Akitas should not be left alone with children; together, their conspiracies will be your undoing.


    Will eat nothing but frozen horsemeat for months at a time, thus earning it the nickname "The Novak Djokovic of the dog world."


    Bred for protecting livestock against the wolves of the rugged highlands of Turkey, the Anatolian Shepherd is right behind you. No, don't move; he'll only chase you, and will die before giving up. Just breathe slowly: a racing pulse only makes your fear more delicious to him.


    Gentrification with four paws. If you put more than four in one space, a coffeeshop with three craft beer taps appears on the nearest streetcorner.


    Bred with a great cascade of black fur over its eyes to shield the world from the laserlike contempt it holds for human frailty. Highly radioactive, but only when it is in a good mood. Is never radioactive.


    The Boerboel is WHATEVER IT WANTS YOU TO THINK IT IS because the phrase "African farm muscle car dog" doesn't even really come close to describing it. It guarded the mines against diamond thieves in South Africa so I'm pretty sure its preferred food is "terrified diamond thieves." This one wants to be thought of as a unicorn, and it's a unicorn. It is. Just say it, and back away slowly without making eye contact. JUST SAY IT BEFORE IT NOTICES YOU'RE HESITATING.


    X-Rays reveal its interior contains no organs, only springs, chewed up shoes, and huge clouds of pure fart gas.


    Per Wikipedia, these are "quiet dogs that very rarely bark." If they do, you are seconds from an imminent death or from being sat on like a lawnchair by a 150 pound dog. Depends on the day, really.


    A "light sporting mastiff" for the dog owner who wants a Bronze Age war dog, but with modern styling and performance. Described as "dominant," so not recommended for owners incapable of deadlifting twice their bodyweight.


    The state dog of New Hampshire; can turn into a Subaru Outback at will.


    Bred by a German tax collector, so you know it's going to be bulletproof and incapable of empathy or pity. The Doberman's tail is often docked, as the adult's tail matures into a fully functional submachine gun. Delightful with kids.


    Once you find out they're French, it's impossible to shake that Frenchness. This dog should be given cigarettes as a reward in the arena; the breed description should read "must be balanced through its powerful flanks, and committed to a vague but militant atheism it jettisons on visits to its grandmother in Toulouse." Despises America; has never been to America.


    This dog is tiny compared to the other beasts in this group, so assume its heavily armed at all times, and wanted for murder in one of those states that don't really seem to find murder suspects very often like South Carolina or Illinois.


    This dog exists only to prove that the dream of a Giant Dachshund remains real and attainable.


    Deceptive in that they are actually aliens piloting giant dogbots designed to commandeer the most important territory on earth for colonization: the most comfortable couches or beds in any home.


    A very amiable line of brown bears dyed white by corrupt Spanish breeders for centuries.


    The try-hard, insecure, title-obsessed brother of the merely Great Swiss Mountain Dog, evidently.


    The giant white dreadlocked thing running around the ring tonight, the Komondor uses its unique threaded coat to protect its skin against the teeth of predators trying to eat livestock, and its feelings against those who will never understand its need for individuality in an increasingly homogenous society.


    Breed traits include cartoonish racism.


    An affable, giant goofball of a dog, the Leonberger was bred in hope of making a dog that looked like a lion.

    German illustrators of the 19th century SUCKED at drawing lions.


    Would knock over an AT-AT simply by pissing on it. Breed traits include "plodding," "window-rattling steps," and "drool trails reminiscent of whole beached jellyfish."


    Mastiff left in the oven too long.


    Dogs strong enough to pull swimmers in distress out of the water, the Newfoundland is often referred to as the "nanny dog" for its boundless affection for children, and also because it, too, goes undisclosed on tax records. (P.S. It is not legal to leave a child with a dog no matter what Good Dog Carltold you.)


    Its hypoallergenic coat made it an ideal choice for President Obama's family. Please share this dog on Facebook immediately for best results.


    "The dogs are said to have been used by traveling butchers at markets during the Middle Ages to guard money pouches tied around their necks." BUTCHERS MUST HAVE BEEN THE WEALTHIEST PEOPLE IN GERMANY IN THE MIDDLE AGES.


    Hailing from Siberia. Has antifreeze for blood and will eventually settle in South Florida once it attains oligarch status through a copper mining scheme.


    Also hails from Siberia; also will pursue relocation to South Florida, where it will DJ two nights a week as opener for DJ Rony Seikaly.


    Not really a fit with the rest of these, but the Germans made it so it must be designed to absolutely destroy something.


    The Lhasa Car Alarm! You're supposed to throw a fistful of gravel in the face of one of these if they come after you during a trip to Tibet. A friend did this as instructed, and the dog ran through it like so much buckshot off the hide of a tank. He had to camp out on top of a car for ten minutes until someone came and got the dog. I assume that person was either the mayor, or the mayor's assistant in a scenario where the dog was mayor. (The dog was undoubtedly the mayor.)


    Unusual in this category in that it is used for "Search and Rescue," and not merely "Search."

    SB Nation Video Archives:Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show Petting Challenge (2012)

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    Trust this advice from a fan of a team whose players and their interactions with dogs have never gone well: leave the dog alone. Yes, that is an adorable dog. All dogs are in their own way adorable, even the Xoloitzcuintli. That's the dog in the Westminster that looked like a hellbeast birthed from the unholy union of a doberman and a sentient, burning oil slick. They're used as living warming pads by pain sufferers, and seem to be perfectly happy just laying on people and waiting around to be fed despite their obvious demon genes.

    So yes, even if you are walking to class and see an adorable dog and it turns out to be a service dog, Auburn football players, DO NOT PET THE DOG. Also, don't run up and yell WHAT at the person when they ask you to stop petting the dog, because it is Auburn, and there are plenty of dogs to pet. Brave, fearless dogs there to advance the researches of Auburn's School of Exploding Dog Studies. Dogs that don't belong to a veteran with PTSD who has the dog for that exact reason, and who goes to a local television station and tells them all about it.

    P.S. Why you gotta specify "female" veteran, We mean, a veteran is a veteran.

    P.P.S. Okay maybe Auburn players should just give up on being close to dogs at all, ever.

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    Florida football is on a three victory streak. First: a triumphant win over East Carolina in the Birmingham Bowl, complete with what turned out to be literal pants-shitting effort from Adam Lane. This is never meant to embarrass Adam Lane. He simply did what others only talk about doing: working yourself so hard you leave it all on the field.

    The second victory: Jeremy Foley vs. window.

    AND YOU CALL YOURSELF DOUBLE-PANED. Foley won that staring contest easily, and hired a coach who was not an overhyped gym teacher with ADHD and an office full of empty Monster Energy Rehab cans. That's almost like a third victory. (Almost.)

    The third victory? Getting out of the 2014 NCAA bump violation case with no penalties beyond what Florida has already self-imposed. That's three in a row, and damn near what we'd call a trend. That coach is not named in the NCAA report, but he is outlined by position and experience and role, and his name definitely does not rhyme with Poker Billups. "Poker Billups," again not named in the report, also was tipped off to the recruit's location by a recruiting writer, which is not at all an unseemly and weird look into the dark world of collegiate recruiting, but whatever THREE WINS IN A ROW.

    If we get through the spring game without five ACL tears and with more than one quarterback on the roster that's like four in a row. Practically a dynasty at this point, really.

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    Why aren't there any college football games on Fox News?

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    Are you watching Florida-LSU, Oregon-Washington, BAYLOR, or other?

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